So very sorry for bothering you but will you please come back and post more really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Liz. I hope Liz will be able to talk to Max.
From:
L-J-L 76
Unbreakable - A Beautiful Lie (AU M/L ADULT) COMPLETE 5/5/17 + A/N 5/5/19
Moderators: Anniepoo98, Rowedog, ISLANDGIRL5, Itzstacie, truelovepooh, FSU/MSW-94, Hunter, Island Breeze, Forum Moderators
-
Morning Dreamgirl
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 368
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: United States
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 22, 7/29/15, p. 18
You're posting faster! Yay!
This of course means I need to formulate my responses faster so I don't miss a chapter. Definitely worth it!
Chapter 21 Feedback
Poor Liz - if you tried to write down all the questions and weird happenings it would take pages. Goo idea stopping after just the first few.
Also smart to put it down the garbage disposal. Burning it would be another option but not a practical one emotionally right now. 
I'm glad she's finally taking control of something back. So much had been spinning out of control the last few weeks it's amazing she hasn't snapped. "Gotta-have-a-plan-Parker" has been tossed from one end of the pool of the other and that's always difficult to navigate.
I'm immensely curious as to where Max is. Especially given that the last time he missed it was because of the Sgt. However, if Liz thinks investigating Max and his ominous warning will distract her from the fact that he's been MIA for five days she's sadly mistaken. Normally I would think it would be a good distraction from her mom's death but everything's so tired together behind the scenes that I doubt it'll "distract" for long.
I'm glad that Alex has made a reappearance again. I was beginning to wonder where he was.
It's good that he's willing to help her out and not pressure her. It's a little weird he didn't try harder to contact her though. If my best friend had a family member die I'd drive across country as soon as I could. Add it to the list of strange things I suppose.
I'm also curious as to his reaction when she asked about the public records. "Tentatively." Like I don't want to give you too much info where I could get in trouble and you could get hurt or like I'm not sure if they'll sneak charges in? The second option seemed obvious until you get further down the chapter.
What's interesting about Liz's research is that the 1949 Orphans could really blend in pretty easily. It would be easy enough for someone to open an orphanage or a school of some kind in a town that had become famous two years earlier for a spaceship crash without anyone thinking these kids would have anything to do with it. The question is where were they the two years previously and why wait only two years before "migrating" to Roswell? Were they in pods and had all finally come out? One discovery just tends to lead to three more questions. That's good though; makes for a better story!
Sean annoys me. Just go away already. You know she doesn't actually like you, your powers aren't working on her and she keeps giving you indicators that she wants you to go away. How much more do you need besides a girl running from you at the party and dismissing you whenever her friends come around? I think Sean and Max have their signals from Liz crossed. Or they're both purposefully doing the opposite.
I vote that we take Sean out to the middle of the desert and leave him there tied up. We can threaten to do the same thing to Max if he doesn't get his act together.
Interesting tidbit about Nancy and Steven. So if Jeff and Nancy fell in love at first sight then they had to have met after the yearbook info. But what was it about Nancy that made her "special" and what is it about Liz that makes her "special"? It couldn't have just been Nancy's relationship with Steven. That wouldn't account for the blood being drawn from Liz in the middle of the night at such a young age. What happened between Nancy and Steven today put more pressure on the next generation of aliens to keep outsiders away from any knowledge of the truth?
I have to say you threw me for a loop with Alex's grandmother. I remember reading a blurb about Alex's parents being relatively well off but didn't think too much about it. Obviously not every alien family is going to be wealthy but I would bet the majority are. They'd know what kinds of technology, etc to invest in. Plus if they're that tightly knit I can't imagine them letting one of their own live in squalor.
Alex knows something. The questions he asks, the way he leads into things and his reactions all point to the fact that he knows more than he's letting on (and not just in regards to there being a community of aliens living in Roswell). I wonder if he's not just Liz's friend but also sort of a protector given her status (whatever it is). It doesn't seem likely though or he would have shown up more when Sean was stalking her instead of leaving it to Max. So is he just part alien and (obviously) not allowed to say anything or is it something more? I feel for Liz; every time she thinks she's lost enough something else gets pulled out from under her. Sometimes the only way to see the truth is to pull out all the lies and cover ups though.
Loving the developments so far!
This of course means I need to formulate my responses faster so I don't miss a chapter. Definitely worth it!
Chapter 21 Feedback
Poor Liz - if you tried to write down all the questions and weird happenings it would take pages. Goo idea stopping after just the first few.
Also smart to put it down the garbage disposal. Burning it would be another option but not a practical one emotionally right now. I'm glad she's finally taking control of something back. So much had been spinning out of control the last few weeks it's amazing she hasn't snapped. "Gotta-have-a-plan-Parker" has been tossed from one end of the pool of the other and that's always difficult to navigate.
I'm immensely curious as to where Max is. Especially given that the last time he missed it was because of the Sgt. However, if Liz thinks investigating Max and his ominous warning will distract her from the fact that he's been MIA for five days she's sadly mistaken. Normally I would think it would be a good distraction from her mom's death but everything's so tired together behind the scenes that I doubt it'll "distract" for long.
I'm glad that Alex has made a reappearance again. I was beginning to wonder where he was.
It's good that he's willing to help her out and not pressure her. It's a little weird he didn't try harder to contact her though. If my best friend had a family member die I'd drive across country as soon as I could. Add it to the list of strange things I suppose.
I'm also curious as to his reaction when she asked about the public records. "Tentatively." Like I don't want to give you too much info where I could get in trouble and you could get hurt or like I'm not sure if they'll sneak charges in? The second option seemed obvious until you get further down the chapter.
What's interesting about Liz's research is that the 1949 Orphans could really blend in pretty easily. It would be easy enough for someone to open an orphanage or a school of some kind in a town that had become famous two years earlier for a spaceship crash without anyone thinking these kids would have anything to do with it. The question is where were they the two years previously and why wait only two years before "migrating" to Roswell? Were they in pods and had all finally come out? One discovery just tends to lead to three more questions. That's good though; makes for a better story!
Sean annoys me. Just go away already. You know she doesn't actually like you, your powers aren't working on her and she keeps giving you indicators that she wants you to go away. How much more do you need besides a girl running from you at the party and dismissing you whenever her friends come around? I think Sean and Max have their signals from Liz crossed. Or they're both purposefully doing the opposite.
I vote that we take Sean out to the middle of the desert and leave him there tied up. We can threaten to do the same thing to Max if he doesn't get his act together.
Interesting tidbit about Nancy and Steven. So if Jeff and Nancy fell in love at first sight then they had to have met after the yearbook info. But what was it about Nancy that made her "special" and what is it about Liz that makes her "special"? It couldn't have just been Nancy's relationship with Steven. That wouldn't account for the blood being drawn from Liz in the middle of the night at such a young age. What happened between Nancy and Steven today put more pressure on the next generation of aliens to keep outsiders away from any knowledge of the truth?
I have to say you threw me for a loop with Alex's grandmother. I remember reading a blurb about Alex's parents being relatively well off but didn't think too much about it. Obviously not every alien family is going to be wealthy but I would bet the majority are. They'd know what kinds of technology, etc to invest in. Plus if they're that tightly knit I can't imagine them letting one of their own live in squalor.
Alex knows something. The questions he asks, the way he leads into things and his reactions all point to the fact that he knows more than he's letting on (and not just in regards to there being a community of aliens living in Roswell). I wonder if he's not just Liz's friend but also sort of a protector given her status (whatever it is). It doesn't seem likely though or he would have shown up more when Sean was stalking her instead of leaving it to Max. So is he just part alien and (obviously) not allowed to say anything or is it something more? I feel for Liz; every time she thinks she's lost enough something else gets pulled out from under her. Sometimes the only way to see the truth is to pull out all the lies and cover ups though.
Loving the developments so far!
Last edited by Morning Dreamgirl on Fri Jul 31, 2015 2:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.
-
Morning Dreamgirl
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 368
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: United States
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 22, 7/29/15, p. 18
The fact that you state "or something" in your author's note at the beginning of the chapter makes me... nervous? on edge? Can we just have lots of good stuff? Or at least lots of happy M/L interaction. In every chapter and then the "or something"?
Chapter 22 Feedback
This dream felt different than the others. She already knew that what she was seeing was not real. In most dreams people see themselves there and it's only after the traumatic event happens later in the dream that they become more aware of it tying in closely with reality. But this time she was aware from the beginning and the way her mother was acting was strange. She was talking to someone but Liz couldn't see who. That's the biggest red flag. Secondly what was she not done with? It's something more than just ironing. Thirdly why did she not remove the iron or put out the fire? Anyone in control of their basic functions as a living being would choose one of those options.
It's curious to in regards to the iron. In the last chapter Alex suggested an iron may have started it. How would he know? I'm wondering what the investigators and/or insurance company will say the source of the fire was.
I feel so bad for Jeff. He's not even able to check on his daughter when she screams herself awake from nightmares. She's doing the shopping, her school work, the cleaning around the apartment (I imagine) and mourning her mother. I can't imagine what he's going through having lost his wife given all the weird stuff that must have happened when he was younger. That being said, Amy needs to come in and make him realize that it hurts when you're suddenly alone raising a child but he still needs to raise his child. He has to become more functioning to at least some degree.
I'm so glad that Max was at least able to be there for her during her nightmare. I wasn't sure if he would stay away from her during those moments as well given his warning during their last talk.
You wrote the scene between the two of them perfectly and I love that while Liz wasn't able to see him she could feel and hear him long enough for her to calm down and regain at least a little more peace. The fact that he was so gentle with her and was able to take the place of the physical pain was just wonderfully written. I'd love to see what happens on his end when she goes through something like that. Obviously he feels her emotions but what does it take for him to be able to reach out to her? Does he have to hold her while laying on his bed or is it all mental ability? Curious about how their connection works (the little mechanics of it, that is).
It's fun to see Liz finally admitting that she is attracted to him. I imagine that as Max has become aware of those emotions it's become harder for him to stay away. It would be hard enough to not reach out to her mentally but then to have to stay away physically as well - at least they're both struggling with it. On the upside when he finally has some sense shaken into him he won't have to be worrying about her being afraid of him. He'll just have to worry about his self-control.
I'm thrown off by Mr. Evans. He's threatened Liz more than once (including the time where Max defended her despite being beaten himself), snuck into her room when she was younger to take blood samples from her and tries to get her to stay away from Max. Yet he told his son beforehand that she was special and hasn't stepped in to pull anything weird even though he has to be aware of the fact that Liz is smart enough to realize Max's burn wounds are completely gone when they shouldn't be; especially the first time she saw Max after the fire. So is he protecting her as well as his son (if not rather rudely) or is he somehow involved in something unsavory?
So... Wanna post more today? Pretty please with chocolate on top?
Chapter 22 Feedback
This dream felt different than the others. She already knew that what she was seeing was not real. In most dreams people see themselves there and it's only after the traumatic event happens later in the dream that they become more aware of it tying in closely with reality. But this time she was aware from the beginning and the way her mother was acting was strange. She was talking to someone but Liz couldn't see who. That's the biggest red flag. Secondly what was she not done with? It's something more than just ironing. Thirdly why did she not remove the iron or put out the fire? Anyone in control of their basic functions as a living being would choose one of those options.
It's curious to in regards to the iron. In the last chapter Alex suggested an iron may have started it. How would he know? I'm wondering what the investigators and/or insurance company will say the source of the fire was.
I feel so bad for Jeff. He's not even able to check on his daughter when she screams herself awake from nightmares. She's doing the shopping, her school work, the cleaning around the apartment (I imagine) and mourning her mother. I can't imagine what he's going through having lost his wife given all the weird stuff that must have happened when he was younger. That being said, Amy needs to come in and make him realize that it hurts when you're suddenly alone raising a child but he still needs to raise his child. He has to become more functioning to at least some degree.
I'm so glad that Max was at least able to be there for her during her nightmare. I wasn't sure if he would stay away from her during those moments as well given his warning during their last talk.
You wrote the scene between the two of them perfectly and I love that while Liz wasn't able to see him she could feel and hear him long enough for her to calm down and regain at least a little more peace. The fact that he was so gentle with her and was able to take the place of the physical pain was just wonderfully written. I'd love to see what happens on his end when she goes through something like that. Obviously he feels her emotions but what does it take for him to be able to reach out to her? Does he have to hold her while laying on his bed or is it all mental ability? Curious about how their connection works (the little mechanics of it, that is).
It's fun to see Liz finally admitting that she is attracted to him. I imagine that as Max has become aware of those emotions it's become harder for him to stay away. It would be hard enough to not reach out to her mentally but then to have to stay away physically as well - at least they're both struggling with it. On the upside when he finally has some sense shaken into him he won't have to be worrying about her being afraid of him. He'll just have to worry about his self-control.
I'm thrown off by Mr. Evans. He's threatened Liz more than once (including the time where Max defended her despite being beaten himself), snuck into her room when she was younger to take blood samples from her and tries to get her to stay away from Max. Yet he told his son beforehand that she was special and hasn't stepped in to pull anything weird even though he has to be aware of the fact that Liz is smart enough to realize Max's burn wounds are completely gone when they shouldn't be; especially the first time she saw Max after the fire. So is he protecting her as well as his son (if not rather rudely) or is he somehow involved in something unsavory?
So... Wanna post more today? Pretty please with chocolate on top?
-
max and liz believer
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 821
- Joined: Sat Sep 28, 2002 10:45 am
- Location: Sweden
- Contact:
TWENTY-THREE
First of all, since I posted a bit more frequently this week, make sure that you haven't missed a chapter. Missing a chapter at this point would probably make this story even more confusing than it already is... 
Secondly; Love you!
L-J-L 76
You'll get some more "information" on Mr. Evans in this chapter. Thank you for the feedback and the bump
!
Roswelllostcause - We can always hope that Liz will get some answers in this chapter. Or more questions...? Thank you for the feedback!
saori_1902 - Thank you
AlysLuv - Heh. Thank you!
Natalie36 - Hopefully... Thank you for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - Yeah, she keeps on running into Mr. Evans, doesn't she? Max should stop "hiding" at home so that Liz won't have to risk bumping into Max's father. I presume you've put the vampire theory away? But don't leave the "two kinds of alien"-theory just yet. Thank you for the feedback!
Carolyn (keepsmiling7) - Yes, what will happen next? Liz caught outside of the Evans' house. Good? Bad? Thank you for the feedback!
Morning Dreamgirl
Where's Max during his MIA period? The following chapter might give you a clue...
Alex has been on one of his trips and who knows; maybe he has been keeping track. We are only seeing it from Liz's perspective and her mind is kinda preoccupied with other stuff besides Alex. But yes, I agree; he should've made more of an effort to contact her and offer his support after the death of her mother...
I love your analysis of the dream. It was different from the others. The others played on her fears and traumatic experiences from the fire. This one... seemed more...realistic..?
Jeff is in a really bad place. He really did love his wife.
<3
I'm intrigued by your analysis of Mr. Evans. He sure seems to send Liz mixed signals too, doesn't he?
Thank you so much for the feedback!
From TWENTY-TWO:
I searched the ground beneath my feet for something to throw at the window and spotted a flower bed to my left, where the soil had been covered with a thick layer of walnut-sized pebbles. Bending down, I picked out the smallest one I could find, took three steps away from the house, strained my neck as I looked up towards the window on the second floor, and psyched myself up for throwing the pebble at the window.
I never was particularly good at throwing stuff.
To my utter surprise, the pebble hit its target and made a clattering sound against the window pane. Fortunately, it didn’t break. I had been a bit worried about that.
“Ms. Parker.”
I jumped, a startled cry escaping me, and whipped my head towards the male voice which had calmly stated my name.
Dr. Philip Evans.
TWENTY-THREE
I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights, shaking like a leaf, and a couple of other fitting idioms, as Max’s father calmly looked at me with something akin to amusement in his eyes.
“Mr.- Dr. Evans,” I stuttered and was gripped by the ridiculous temptation to curtsey and mumble apologies under my breath while moving backwards with my eyes fixed at the ground.
Like the perfect embarrassed servant girl from the 18th century.
But I fought the inclination and remained straight, swallowed back my mortification at getting caught, and forced myself to meet his dark brown eyes straight on.
“Are you trying to break my son’s window?” Mr. Evans asked curiously.
My throat was dry. My hands were trembling. “It’s stupid, really.” I forced a nervous laughter across my dry lips. “I wanted to talk to Max about something, but I don’t have his number. So-“
“We have a front door, Ms. Parker,” Mr. Evans enlightened me, lifting one of his eyebrows in beguilement.
I bit my lower lip. “I didn’t want to bother you.” I let the two pebbles I held in my hand - which I had not had the chance to throw - drop to the ground, and I followed their descent with my eyes, avoiding Mr. Evans’ eyes. “Really. If you could just let Max know that I’m-“
“Actually,” Mr. Evans interrupted - again - and I looked up at him to notice him fold his arms across his chest and casually lean against the white washed wall of his impressive home. “We were just about to have dinner. We would love it if you would join us.”
There was something of a warm smile on his face while I felt my own face pale and instant cold sweat dampen my palms. Dinner? With the Evans family?
Eh. I would rather eat cigarette buts and roll my body over broken glass.
“That’s very kind of you, Dr. Evans,” I responded politely. My face felt tight and clammy. “But I’ve already eaten.”
“Please,” Mr. Evans said, his face softening further. “We’ve come to understand that you are now a rather big part of Max’s life-“
I frowned. I am?
“-and both the missus and I would really like to get to know you better.”
Well, if you put it that way.
No. No way in hell.
I shook my head, my polite smile wobbling. “Really. Thank you. But I’ll catch up with Max at school. It was nothing urgent.”
“Philip?”
I froze as Mrs. Evans appeared around the corner, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw me.
Great. I guess my ‘sneaking around’-career was officially deemed extremely brief and unsuccessful.
“Liz?” She frowned before her face lit up with a beautiful and welcoming smile. “Liz Parker?”
I felt stupid. The initial fear about standing face to face - on my own - with Mr. Evans was quickly evaporating. Mr. Evans seemed to be in a good mood today, and Mrs. Evans just seemed very warm and maternal. Something my tired heart craved right now, in the wake of my mother’s death.
“Yeah,” I replied sheepishly.
“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Evans asked, coming to stand next to her husband.
“Um-“
“She wanted to speak to Max,” Mr. Evans replied easily, smiling at his wife.
“Oh,” a shadow briefly fell over Mrs. Evans’ face before she smiled.
I frowned. What was that about?
“That’s nice of you to come over,” Mrs. Evans continued. She indicated towards the front door. “Won’t you come inside? We were just about to have dinner and there’s plenty of food to go around.”
“I already tried that,” Mr. Evans said good-naturedly and their neighborly behavior had me cringing with danger.
I felt like I was part of a replica of ‘The Truman Show’, with the cheery smiles and the overly fake and polite conversation. Of course, Mrs. Evans had been nothing but polite to me during our prior interactions, but Mr. Evans was a totally different matter.
“Apparently, she is not hungry,” Mr. Evans added, his eyes darkening as he looked back at me, and a shiver raced down my spine.
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Evans said, brushing the argument away with big waving hand movements before stepping up to me (I tensed) and placing her arm around my shoulders. “When was the last time you had a home cooked meal, honey?” Her tone turned softer as my body stiffened at her close proximity. “Considering what you’ve been through, you poor thing.”
The tears built quickly and uninhibited in my eyes and I swallowed with panic.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I felt her concerned eyes on my profile and she gave my shoulder a squeeze before guiding us towards the front of the house. “That’s what I thought. Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”
It felt surreal to be walking between Max’s parents to the front door of his house, his mother’s arm wrapped comfortably around my shoulders, in some way shielding and protecting me against her own husband.
“Look who we found!” Mrs. Evans announced as we walked through the door and my eyes fell on a stunned Isabel, who was descending the stairs. She momentarily froze, her hand on the railing, before an uncertain smile bloomed on her perfect lips.
“Liz?” she walked up to me and I stiffened as she stepped straight into my personal space, her mother making room for her by taking a step back and releasing her hold on my shoulders, and Isabel kissed both my cheeks in greeting.
With the pecking of cheeks, I had now entered the French version of ‘The Truman Show’.
Isabel pulled back, intrigued curiosity on her beautiful face. “What are you doing here?”
“I-“ I had to clear my throat, my vocal cords too stunned to function, “I wanted to talk to Max about something.”
Isabel smiled in understanding. “Oh. Of course.”
“And we figured that we would invite Liz to dinner,” Mrs. Evans clarified behind me before closing the distance between herself and the bottom of the stairs. Grabbing the railing, she leaned forward, angling her face upwards, and called out, “Max! Dinner’s ready!”
My heart beat tripped at the anticipation of his arrival. I tried to tell myself that I was just relieved that he would be joining us - because his presence made me feel safe - but I knew deep down that there were more feelings involved than mere anticipated protection.
“Helena, we have a guest,” Mrs. Evans said to a dark-haired petite girl - a couple of years older than me. “Set the table for one more person.”
The girl curtsied (she actually curtsied!) and nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.”
I jumped as I felt someone take my hand. I looked into Isabel’s apologetic eyes as she tugged on my hand. “Your seat is over here.”
If this was a dream, I really wanted to wake up now. This family was making me really uncomfortable.
“How are you doing, Liz?” Isabel asked with deep, concerned eyes as she led me to a seat. For a second I thought she was referring to my injuries; the burns that Max had healed and no one but Max and I knew about.
But then I realized that she meant my mother. She was wondering how I was dealing with the loss of my mother.
I managed a semi-grateful smile for her concern as I sank into the seat, even though I really didn’t want to talk about what had happened. “Better. Thanks.”
Isabel’s nod of understanding was interrupted by her snapping her eyes up to something behind me, a brief second of darkness and worry across her face, before her composure returned.
I followed her line of vision, turning my head over my shoulder, and couldn’t stop the gasp that fell from my lips.
It was Max. Coming down the stairs. Sporting a black eye with a cut across his bottom lip, and a very ginger walk.
I shot up from the beautifully cut mahogany chair and took an instinctive step towards him. That’s when he saw me, his careful steps on the stairs halting. The horror on his face arrested my movement.
Pain cut through my heart. He was in pain. Why was he hurt?
Again?
As Max tried to reign in his shock at seeing me in his house - with his family - I whipped accusing eyes towards Max’s father. Whatever had happened, I was certain that he was somehow involved.
I trembled as I found his eyes already trained on me, a silent challenge in those dark brown eyes, and I paled as the truth hit me.
This was a warning. This is why Mr. Evans had invited me inside, which went against all of his previous notions towards getting Max and I to not see each other.
Mr. Evans wanted me to see this. He wanted me to see that Max was hurt.
My breath was stuck in my throat as I tried to control the tears of anger and fear from flooding my eyes.
What kind of monster are you?
I was almost certain that he could read the unspoken question in my eyes, because he inclined his head slightly to the side and gave me a polite nod in acknowledgement.
Anger was building as I looked back at Max. His eyes were trained on me as he reached the bottom landing of the stairs.
“We have a guest, Max,” Mrs. Evans said brightly, as though immune to the tension in the room.
Max grimaced with pain as he attempted to straighten some. I took a half-step towards him, but stopped myself. I felt Mr. Evans’ eyes on me, analyzing my every move.
“Yes, I can see that,” Max practically grunted as he seemed to have to use a lot of energy to get his feet moving.
I turned my head in Isabel’s direction, who was standing rigidly next to me, without removing my eyes from Max’s face. Under my breath, I bit out, “What happened?”
“He got into a fight,” Isabel answered without missing a beat. But her voice was weak and unconvincing.
Really? Again?
I clenched my fists along the sides of my body. Why were they using Max as a punching bag? And why hadn’t he healed himself? He should be able to heal himself, right? He had, after all, been without burns the days after the fire. So he must have healed himself.
I flickered my eyes towards Mr. Evans - who was still watching me speculatively - and wondered if he also had the ability to heal. And if so; why hadn’t he healed his son?
Instead, they were all standing around watching Max as he, with barely disguised effort, tried to cross the floor to the table. As though him being hurt was nothing out of the ordinary.
My anger at the lack of humanity in this room was threatening to make me explode. Ignoring the looks of his family, I walked straight up to Max.
His eyes widened as I paused in front of him, his warm, hurting eyes (my tears were threatening to fall at his displayed vulnerability) searched my face.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered, low enough to be meant only for my ears. There was wonder in his voice, like he could not quite believe that I was standing in front of him.
“Another unprovoked attack?” I bit out sarcastically, referring to his precedent explanation as to who had hurt him the last time.
I wasn’t angry with him. I was angry with this whole situation. With the unfairness of whatever the hell was happening to Max.
And for some reason, despite my annoyed question, he seemed to understand this as he gave me a half-hearted smirk. “Something like that.”
I swallowed, before moving to his side, ducking my head under his elbow, grabbing his hand to drape his arm across my shoulder while aligning the side of my body with his.
“You don’t have to-“ he started, but fell silent as I glared at him angrily.
You’re in pain, Evans. Let me help you.
“Thank you,” he mumbled reluctantly under his breath as I guided him to the table. His body was like a furnace next to mine and I was overcome with a desperate desire to wrap myself inside the confines of his whole body and hug him tightly.
But we were not alone.
Their eyes were following our movement to the table silently. My mind flashed to the night of the latest party I had attended. Of the beautiful silent people with their penetrating and eerie stares.
I helped Max sit down and tried to let his faint groans of pain float past me unnoticed. But I noticed and it made me seek out Mr. Evans indifferent face repeatedly.
“Such a pleasure to have you here,” Mrs. Evans said, a tinge of nervousness betraying her cheerfulness, as she clapped her hands together and ordered everyone to take a seat.
The dinner proceeded surprisingly uneventfully. Max was seated next to me and I was highly in tune with his body heat and the way his eyes kept traveling to my face - when he thought I wasn’t noticing. The conversation was polite with even a few funny lines from Isabel (who knew that she could be funny?) which eased up on the tension.
To my relief, the family left the subject of the death of my mom more or less alone. Mrs. Evans offered her condolences at one point, but other than that it was the regular ‘What are your plans after finishing High School?’ and ‘Which colleges are you applying to?’ type of questions.
Surprisingly, dinner was not nearly as dreadful as I had anticipated. And the food was delicious.
“Max, Liz,” Mr. Evans announced as everyone had scraped their plates clean, standing from his chair and looking across the table to where I was seated next to his son. “Would you please join me in my study?”
And just like that, the small piece of comfort I had built up in the company of these people was squashed. I glanced at Max, saw him blanch, and felt my own body grow cold.
Judging from Max’s reaction, this was not good.
“Sure, Dad,” Max replied and painfully got to his feet.
I fumbled with my hands in the air, wanting to help him, but he brushed them off. I put the serviette, which I’d kept across my lap, onto the table (yep, fancy people had serviettes around even during casual dinners), looked briefly at Mrs. Evans with a “Thank you so much for dinner,” and missed her warm smile as my eyes immediately returned to Max’s uneasy rise from the table.
“My pleasure, honey,” Mrs. Evans replied and I stood up next to Max.
As he slightly bent at the waist, grabbing onto the table for support (what the hell had happened to him?!) I grabbed his hand. He resisted me at first, trying to pull his hand away, but I gave him a firm warning look and squeezed his hand tighter.
Holding his hand was not only for his benefit. I needed the comfort it brought if I was going to ‘join Mr. Evans in his study’.
“We’ll be right back,” Mr. Evans promised with a smile directed towards the remaining dining members, before he lead the way to the back of the large dining room, turned right around a corner and walked down a long corridor.
I clenched my hand with Max’s and tried to focus on breathing. My nerves were wreaking havoc on my emotional control.
I felt Max’s eyes frequently stray to my face and could hear his laborious breaths with every step, but I forced my eyes to look forward. To keep my eyes on the enemy: Mr. Evans.
He stopped at a dark wooden door, swung it open and stepped to the side while gesturing us inside.
“Please,” he smiled at me and I almost stumbled on the threshold, which had unexpectedly appeared out of the floor.
Max’s body brushed against mine as he silently buffered my stumble and there was a silent click as the door closed behind us.
We were alone.
With Mr. Evans.
“So, Ms. Parker.” Mr. Evans looked at me intently and I fought the impulse to hide behind Max. Broken Max. “How much, exactly, has Max told you?”
Max went stiff beside me and my courage evaporated.
“About what?” I asked, surprised that I could actually get any words out around the big lump in my throat. But my voice was weak and wavering. Not the confident one of someone that was telling the truth.
Mr. Evans chuckled, but there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes. “About himself. About what he can do.”
“Dad. She doesn’t know anything. Leave her out of this.”
Max’s presence was strong behind my back. He demanded space and authority, even when he was pushed into a corner weakened by encompassing physical damages.
“Lying is what got you into this mess, son,” Mr. Evans said with a pointed look at Max.
Was he referring to me being here? To Max being injured? What mess?
“He hasn’t, for starters-” I said, my voice gaining strength as anger crept back into me, “-told me why he keeps on getting hurt. Is it you? Are you hurting him? Or is it Sean’s father, the Sergeant?”
Mr. Evans’ facial expression was bemused up until the point when I mentioned Sean Carter’s father. His eyes narrowed with danger and in two rapid steps he had closed the distance between us, grabbing me by my upper arms.
“Ow,” I cried out in surprise and startled fear.
Max reacted by grabbing a hold of one of his father’s arms and hissing out in warning, “Let her go.”
“How does she know about the sergeant?” Mr. Evans snapped, his hold on my arms tightening painfully, as he stared at his offspring.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped, imagining bruises forming already.
“I don’t know,” Max replied, his hand still around his father’s bicep, pulling, but not helping much in his weakened state. His eyes kept flickering worriedly to my face. “She came up with that all on her own.”
“Liar,” Mr. Evans accused his son and abruptly let go of me.
I inhaled sharply and took a quick step backwards, my back slamming into a large picture frame hanging on the wall behind me.
Max turned to look at me, asking softly, “You okay?”
I nodded mutely, rubbing the sore spots on my upper arms. I should report that guy. I really should.
Mr. Evans tiredly shook his head. “Have I taught you nothing? Along comes a beautiful girl and you start thinking with your dick.”
I swallowed, unintentionally blushing at Mr. Evans’ choice of words. Max was as tense as a violin string as he bit out, “She saw me heal Isabel, okay?”
Wait. What? I saw what?
“No, no, I didn’t-“ I started but Mr. Evans interrupted me with an eye roll, still in conversation with Max. The eye-roll almost looked comical on his face. Completely misplaced.
“That’s old news. I got as much from Sarge.”
The Sergeant.
“What I would like to know is why you haven’t eliminated the problem? Even after Sarge’s recommendation…”
“I did,” Max objected sullenly.
It felt like I was taking part in a regular father-to-teenager reprimanding, but my gut was telling me something very different. This was much too serious.
“She doesn’t remember me healing Isabel,” Max said and gestured in my direction. “Right, Liz?”
I shook my head in earnest. This was probably the only thing I would be able to be truthful about.
“But now that you’ve so subtly revealed to her that I have,” Max pointed out and I watched Mr. Evans’ face grow darker.
“Don’t get smart with me,” he warned and I searched out Max’s hand again.
He let me take it, squeezing my fingers gently after weaving his fingers through mine.
“There’s something else,” Mr. Evans mused slowly, thoughtfully. “She knows something. Why else do we keep finding her in these ‘odd’-” he smiled as though he had uttered a joke, “- ‘situations’?”
“I’ve already told you,” Max said through clenched teeth. Impatient frustration in his voice. “I found her at her house, at the fire, and since then she’s been having a lot of questions. Why I was there? Why I didn’t help her mom.” Max shot me an exasperated look. “She won’t stop asking questions.”
His hand squeezed tighter around mine. He was nervous. Even though I couldn’t tell from the mask he was putting on towards his father, I could feel it in the dampness of his palm in mine.
I mustered up a strained smile. “Yeah. That’s me. Nosy as hell.”
Mr. Evans paused for a second and I felt a foreboding of darkness creep up my back. What would he do?
“I might as well take a look myself then,” he stated emotionlessly.
I froze. What?
Mr. Evans took a step closer to me again and I automatically walked sideways, pressing myself into Max.
Aliens. That’s the word that was flying through my head. They might be aliens.
Sudden blinding fear was making my knees weak and I was fighting the adrenaline pumping harshly through my heart as Max pulled on our joined hands, angling me behind his body.
“I’ll do it,” Max objected, and there was a no nonsense sharpness to voice.
“I think you’ve done enough,” Mr. Evans said slowly, taking a hold of my free arm and roughly pulling me out from behind Max.
“No,” I whispered brokenly.
I was scared now. I didn’t know what Mr. Evans meant by ‘taking a look’. Millions of frantic thoughts were running through my head. Most of them of my dead mom and how she had been special and maybe that’s why she was no longer with me. Thoughts of how dangerous these people probably were and that they wouldn’t shy away from committing murder - if needed.
“Dad, please,” Max said quickly, breathlessly, as he still held tightly onto my hand.
Mr. Evans shook his head in cool annoyance. “Just a look, Max. Relax.”
“Give her a second, okay? Just a second.”
Max’s plea was quietly considered by Mr. Evans before he reluctantly nodded his assent. “Make it quick.”
Max spun around, facing me. His eyes were frantic and scared, but they softened at the tears in my eyes. He released my hand and brought both of his hands up to cradle my face.
My eyes drifted closed at the contact and my closed eyelids pushed tears, which had been collecting in my eyes, down my cheeks.
“Don’t let him,” I whispered brokenly.
“He won’t harm you,” Max whispered back. “Okay?”
His question coaxed me to look up at him and there was a small encouraging smile on his cut lip as he added, “Trust me.”
“What will he do?” I asked thinly.
Max turned serious. “He’s going to look through your mind. Your memory. And then he’ll remove the ones that are connected to me - the atypical memories concerning me.”
No. No. I shook my head. I didn’t want him to remove them. He was going to make me forget? Everything that I’ve learnt? I would go back to thinking that mom’s death had been an accident? That Sean Carter was harmless?
That Max Evans was an arrogant jock?
“Don’t let him,” I repeated.
The pad of his thumb repeatedly brushed against my cheek. “Thank you for these last couple of weeks.”
TBC...
Secondly; Love you!
L-J-L 76
It doesn't seem very likely at this point, does it?I'm glad Max is trying to make Liz feel safe. But I am wondering if Liz will ever feel safe.
You'll get some more "information" on Mr. Evans in this chapter. Thank you for the feedback and the bump
!Roswelllostcause - We can always hope that Liz will get some answers in this chapter. Or more questions...? Thank you for the feedback!
saori_1902 - Thank you
AlysLuv - Heh. Thank you!
Natalie36 - Hopefully... Thank you for the feedback!
Eve (begonia9508) - Yeah, she keeps on running into Mr. Evans, doesn't she? Max should stop "hiding" at home so that Liz won't have to risk bumping into Max's father. I presume you've put the vampire theory away?
But don't leave the "two kinds of alien"-theory just yet. Thank you for the feedback!Carolyn (keepsmiling7) - Yes, what will happen next? Liz caught outside of the Evans' house. Good? Bad? Thank you for the feedback!
Morning Dreamgirl
"Gotta have a plan"-Parker has a knack for not dealing too much with her feelings and instead focusing on the hard facts. This probably aids her right now. If she'd been more sensitive, more emotional (like Maria), she'd probably be sitting in a corner of her room right now, apathetic and rocking back and forth.I'm glad she's finally taking control of something back. So much had been spinning out of control the last few weeks it's amazing she hasn't snapped. "Gotta-have-a-plan-Parker" has been tossed from one end of the pool of the other and that's always difficult to navigate.
Where's Max during his MIA period? The following chapter might give you a clue...
Alex has been on one of his trips and who knows; maybe he has been keeping track. We are only seeing it from Liz's perspective and her mind is kinda preoccupied with other stuff besides Alex. But yes, I agree; he should've made more of an effort to contact her and offer his support after the death of her mother...
Hihi. I like the way you think!I vote that we take Sean out to the middle of the desert and leave him there tied up. We can threaten to do the same thing to Max if he doesn't get his act together.
YupAlex knows something.
I love your analysis of the dream. It was different from the others. The others played on her fears and traumatic experiences from the fire. This one... seemed more...realistic..?
Jeff is in a really bad place. He really did love his wife.
Thank you so much. That means a lot to meYou wrote the scene between the two of them perfectly and I love that while Liz wasn't able to see him she could feel and hear him long enough for her to calm down and regain at least a little more peace. The fact that he was so gentle with her and was able to take the place of the physical pain was just wonderfully written.
<3I'm intrigued by your analysis of Mr. Evans. He sure seems to send Liz mixed signals too, doesn't he?
Thank you so much for the feedback!
Okay, fine. Since you ask so nicelySo... Wanna post more today? Pretty please with chocolate on top?
From TWENTY-TWO:
I searched the ground beneath my feet for something to throw at the window and spotted a flower bed to my left, where the soil had been covered with a thick layer of walnut-sized pebbles. Bending down, I picked out the smallest one I could find, took three steps away from the house, strained my neck as I looked up towards the window on the second floor, and psyched myself up for throwing the pebble at the window.
I never was particularly good at throwing stuff.
To my utter surprise, the pebble hit its target and made a clattering sound against the window pane. Fortunately, it didn’t break. I had been a bit worried about that.
“Ms. Parker.”
I jumped, a startled cry escaping me, and whipped my head towards the male voice which had calmly stated my name.
Dr. Philip Evans.
____________________________________
I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights, shaking like a leaf, and a couple of other fitting idioms, as Max’s father calmly looked at me with something akin to amusement in his eyes.
“Mr.- Dr. Evans,” I stuttered and was gripped by the ridiculous temptation to curtsey and mumble apologies under my breath while moving backwards with my eyes fixed at the ground.
Like the perfect embarrassed servant girl from the 18th century.
But I fought the inclination and remained straight, swallowed back my mortification at getting caught, and forced myself to meet his dark brown eyes straight on.
“Are you trying to break my son’s window?” Mr. Evans asked curiously.
My throat was dry. My hands were trembling. “It’s stupid, really.” I forced a nervous laughter across my dry lips. “I wanted to talk to Max about something, but I don’t have his number. So-“
“We have a front door, Ms. Parker,” Mr. Evans enlightened me, lifting one of his eyebrows in beguilement.
I bit my lower lip. “I didn’t want to bother you.” I let the two pebbles I held in my hand - which I had not had the chance to throw - drop to the ground, and I followed their descent with my eyes, avoiding Mr. Evans’ eyes. “Really. If you could just let Max know that I’m-“
“Actually,” Mr. Evans interrupted - again - and I looked up at him to notice him fold his arms across his chest and casually lean against the white washed wall of his impressive home. “We were just about to have dinner. We would love it if you would join us.”
There was something of a warm smile on his face while I felt my own face pale and instant cold sweat dampen my palms. Dinner? With the Evans family?
Eh. I would rather eat cigarette buts and roll my body over broken glass.
“That’s very kind of you, Dr. Evans,” I responded politely. My face felt tight and clammy. “But I’ve already eaten.”
“Please,” Mr. Evans said, his face softening further. “We’ve come to understand that you are now a rather big part of Max’s life-“
I frowned. I am?
“-and both the missus and I would really like to get to know you better.”
Well, if you put it that way.
No. No way in hell.
I shook my head, my polite smile wobbling. “Really. Thank you. But I’ll catch up with Max at school. It was nothing urgent.”
“Philip?”
I froze as Mrs. Evans appeared around the corner, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw me.
Great. I guess my ‘sneaking around’-career was officially deemed extremely brief and unsuccessful.
“Liz?” She frowned before her face lit up with a beautiful and welcoming smile. “Liz Parker?”
I felt stupid. The initial fear about standing face to face - on my own - with Mr. Evans was quickly evaporating. Mr. Evans seemed to be in a good mood today, and Mrs. Evans just seemed very warm and maternal. Something my tired heart craved right now, in the wake of my mother’s death.
“Yeah,” I replied sheepishly.
“What are you doing here?” Mrs. Evans asked, coming to stand next to her husband.
“Um-“
“She wanted to speak to Max,” Mr. Evans replied easily, smiling at his wife.
“Oh,” a shadow briefly fell over Mrs. Evans’ face before she smiled.
I frowned. What was that about?
“That’s nice of you to come over,” Mrs. Evans continued. She indicated towards the front door. “Won’t you come inside? We were just about to have dinner and there’s plenty of food to go around.”
“I already tried that,” Mr. Evans said good-naturedly and their neighborly behavior had me cringing with danger.
I felt like I was part of a replica of ‘The Truman Show’, with the cheery smiles and the overly fake and polite conversation. Of course, Mrs. Evans had been nothing but polite to me during our prior interactions, but Mr. Evans was a totally different matter.
“Apparently, she is not hungry,” Mr. Evans added, his eyes darkening as he looked back at me, and a shiver raced down my spine.
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Evans said, brushing the argument away with big waving hand movements before stepping up to me (I tensed) and placing her arm around my shoulders. “When was the last time you had a home cooked meal, honey?” Her tone turned softer as my body stiffened at her close proximity. “Considering what you’ve been through, you poor thing.”
The tears built quickly and uninhibited in my eyes and I swallowed with panic.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
I felt her concerned eyes on my profile and she gave my shoulder a squeeze before guiding us towards the front of the house. “That’s what I thought. Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”
It felt surreal to be walking between Max’s parents to the front door of his house, his mother’s arm wrapped comfortably around my shoulders, in some way shielding and protecting me against her own husband.
“Look who we found!” Mrs. Evans announced as we walked through the door and my eyes fell on a stunned Isabel, who was descending the stairs. She momentarily froze, her hand on the railing, before an uncertain smile bloomed on her perfect lips.
“Liz?” she walked up to me and I stiffened as she stepped straight into my personal space, her mother making room for her by taking a step back and releasing her hold on my shoulders, and Isabel kissed both my cheeks in greeting.
With the pecking of cheeks, I had now entered the French version of ‘The Truman Show’.
Isabel pulled back, intrigued curiosity on her beautiful face. “What are you doing here?”
“I-“ I had to clear my throat, my vocal cords too stunned to function, “I wanted to talk to Max about something.”
Isabel smiled in understanding. “Oh. Of course.”
“And we figured that we would invite Liz to dinner,” Mrs. Evans clarified behind me before closing the distance between herself and the bottom of the stairs. Grabbing the railing, she leaned forward, angling her face upwards, and called out, “Max! Dinner’s ready!”
My heart beat tripped at the anticipation of his arrival. I tried to tell myself that I was just relieved that he would be joining us - because his presence made me feel safe - but I knew deep down that there were more feelings involved than mere anticipated protection.
“Helena, we have a guest,” Mrs. Evans said to a dark-haired petite girl - a couple of years older than me. “Set the table for one more person.”
The girl curtsied (she actually curtsied!) and nodded, “Yes, Ma’am.”
I jumped as I felt someone take my hand. I looked into Isabel’s apologetic eyes as she tugged on my hand. “Your seat is over here.”
If this was a dream, I really wanted to wake up now. This family was making me really uncomfortable.
“How are you doing, Liz?” Isabel asked with deep, concerned eyes as she led me to a seat. For a second I thought she was referring to my injuries; the burns that Max had healed and no one but Max and I knew about.
But then I realized that she meant my mother. She was wondering how I was dealing with the loss of my mother.
I managed a semi-grateful smile for her concern as I sank into the seat, even though I really didn’t want to talk about what had happened. “Better. Thanks.”
Isabel’s nod of understanding was interrupted by her snapping her eyes up to something behind me, a brief second of darkness and worry across her face, before her composure returned.
I followed her line of vision, turning my head over my shoulder, and couldn’t stop the gasp that fell from my lips.
It was Max. Coming down the stairs. Sporting a black eye with a cut across his bottom lip, and a very ginger walk.
I shot up from the beautifully cut mahogany chair and took an instinctive step towards him. That’s when he saw me, his careful steps on the stairs halting. The horror on his face arrested my movement.
Pain cut through my heart. He was in pain. Why was he hurt?
Again?
As Max tried to reign in his shock at seeing me in his house - with his family - I whipped accusing eyes towards Max’s father. Whatever had happened, I was certain that he was somehow involved.
I trembled as I found his eyes already trained on me, a silent challenge in those dark brown eyes, and I paled as the truth hit me.
This was a warning. This is why Mr. Evans had invited me inside, which went against all of his previous notions towards getting Max and I to not see each other.
Mr. Evans wanted me to see this. He wanted me to see that Max was hurt.
My breath was stuck in my throat as I tried to control the tears of anger and fear from flooding my eyes.
What kind of monster are you?
I was almost certain that he could read the unspoken question in my eyes, because he inclined his head slightly to the side and gave me a polite nod in acknowledgement.
Anger was building as I looked back at Max. His eyes were trained on me as he reached the bottom landing of the stairs.
“We have a guest, Max,” Mrs. Evans said brightly, as though immune to the tension in the room.
Max grimaced with pain as he attempted to straighten some. I took a half-step towards him, but stopped myself. I felt Mr. Evans’ eyes on me, analyzing my every move.
“Yes, I can see that,” Max practically grunted as he seemed to have to use a lot of energy to get his feet moving.
I turned my head in Isabel’s direction, who was standing rigidly next to me, without removing my eyes from Max’s face. Under my breath, I bit out, “What happened?”
“He got into a fight,” Isabel answered without missing a beat. But her voice was weak and unconvincing.
Really? Again?
I clenched my fists along the sides of my body. Why were they using Max as a punching bag? And why hadn’t he healed himself? He should be able to heal himself, right? He had, after all, been without burns the days after the fire. So he must have healed himself.
I flickered my eyes towards Mr. Evans - who was still watching me speculatively - and wondered if he also had the ability to heal. And if so; why hadn’t he healed his son?
Instead, they were all standing around watching Max as he, with barely disguised effort, tried to cross the floor to the table. As though him being hurt was nothing out of the ordinary.
My anger at the lack of humanity in this room was threatening to make me explode. Ignoring the looks of his family, I walked straight up to Max.
His eyes widened as I paused in front of him, his warm, hurting eyes (my tears were threatening to fall at his displayed vulnerability) searched my face.
“What are you doing here?” he whispered, low enough to be meant only for my ears. There was wonder in his voice, like he could not quite believe that I was standing in front of him.
“Another unprovoked attack?” I bit out sarcastically, referring to his precedent explanation as to who had hurt him the last time.
I wasn’t angry with him. I was angry with this whole situation. With the unfairness of whatever the hell was happening to Max.
And for some reason, despite my annoyed question, he seemed to understand this as he gave me a half-hearted smirk. “Something like that.”
I swallowed, before moving to his side, ducking my head under his elbow, grabbing his hand to drape his arm across my shoulder while aligning the side of my body with his.
“You don’t have to-“ he started, but fell silent as I glared at him angrily.
You’re in pain, Evans. Let me help you.
“Thank you,” he mumbled reluctantly under his breath as I guided him to the table. His body was like a furnace next to mine and I was overcome with a desperate desire to wrap myself inside the confines of his whole body and hug him tightly.
But we were not alone.
Their eyes were following our movement to the table silently. My mind flashed to the night of the latest party I had attended. Of the beautiful silent people with their penetrating and eerie stares.
I helped Max sit down and tried to let his faint groans of pain float past me unnoticed. But I noticed and it made me seek out Mr. Evans indifferent face repeatedly.
“Such a pleasure to have you here,” Mrs. Evans said, a tinge of nervousness betraying her cheerfulness, as she clapped her hands together and ordered everyone to take a seat.
The dinner proceeded surprisingly uneventfully. Max was seated next to me and I was highly in tune with his body heat and the way his eyes kept traveling to my face - when he thought I wasn’t noticing. The conversation was polite with even a few funny lines from Isabel (who knew that she could be funny?) which eased up on the tension.
To my relief, the family left the subject of the death of my mom more or less alone. Mrs. Evans offered her condolences at one point, but other than that it was the regular ‘What are your plans after finishing High School?’ and ‘Which colleges are you applying to?’ type of questions.
Surprisingly, dinner was not nearly as dreadful as I had anticipated. And the food was delicious.
“Max, Liz,” Mr. Evans announced as everyone had scraped their plates clean, standing from his chair and looking across the table to where I was seated next to his son. “Would you please join me in my study?”
And just like that, the small piece of comfort I had built up in the company of these people was squashed. I glanced at Max, saw him blanch, and felt my own body grow cold.
Judging from Max’s reaction, this was not good.
“Sure, Dad,” Max replied and painfully got to his feet.
I fumbled with my hands in the air, wanting to help him, but he brushed them off. I put the serviette, which I’d kept across my lap, onto the table (yep, fancy people had serviettes around even during casual dinners), looked briefly at Mrs. Evans with a “Thank you so much for dinner,” and missed her warm smile as my eyes immediately returned to Max’s uneasy rise from the table.
“My pleasure, honey,” Mrs. Evans replied and I stood up next to Max.
As he slightly bent at the waist, grabbing onto the table for support (what the hell had happened to him?!) I grabbed his hand. He resisted me at first, trying to pull his hand away, but I gave him a firm warning look and squeezed his hand tighter.
Holding his hand was not only for his benefit. I needed the comfort it brought if I was going to ‘join Mr. Evans in his study’.
“We’ll be right back,” Mr. Evans promised with a smile directed towards the remaining dining members, before he lead the way to the back of the large dining room, turned right around a corner and walked down a long corridor.
I clenched my hand with Max’s and tried to focus on breathing. My nerves were wreaking havoc on my emotional control.
I felt Max’s eyes frequently stray to my face and could hear his laborious breaths with every step, but I forced my eyes to look forward. To keep my eyes on the enemy: Mr. Evans.
He stopped at a dark wooden door, swung it open and stepped to the side while gesturing us inside.
“Please,” he smiled at me and I almost stumbled on the threshold, which had unexpectedly appeared out of the floor.
Max’s body brushed against mine as he silently buffered my stumble and there was a silent click as the door closed behind us.
We were alone.
With Mr. Evans.
“So, Ms. Parker.” Mr. Evans looked at me intently and I fought the impulse to hide behind Max. Broken Max. “How much, exactly, has Max told you?”
Max went stiff beside me and my courage evaporated.
“About what?” I asked, surprised that I could actually get any words out around the big lump in my throat. But my voice was weak and wavering. Not the confident one of someone that was telling the truth.
Mr. Evans chuckled, but there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes. “About himself. About what he can do.”
“Dad. She doesn’t know anything. Leave her out of this.”
Max’s presence was strong behind my back. He demanded space and authority, even when he was pushed into a corner weakened by encompassing physical damages.
“Lying is what got you into this mess, son,” Mr. Evans said with a pointed look at Max.
Was he referring to me being here? To Max being injured? What mess?
“He hasn’t, for starters-” I said, my voice gaining strength as anger crept back into me, “-told me why he keeps on getting hurt. Is it you? Are you hurting him? Or is it Sean’s father, the Sergeant?”
Mr. Evans’ facial expression was bemused up until the point when I mentioned Sean Carter’s father. His eyes narrowed with danger and in two rapid steps he had closed the distance between us, grabbing me by my upper arms.
“Ow,” I cried out in surprise and startled fear.
Max reacted by grabbing a hold of one of his father’s arms and hissing out in warning, “Let her go.”
“How does she know about the sergeant?” Mr. Evans snapped, his hold on my arms tightening painfully, as he stared at his offspring.
“You’re hurting me,” I gasped, imagining bruises forming already.
“I don’t know,” Max replied, his hand still around his father’s bicep, pulling, but not helping much in his weakened state. His eyes kept flickering worriedly to my face. “She came up with that all on her own.”
“Liar,” Mr. Evans accused his son and abruptly let go of me.
I inhaled sharply and took a quick step backwards, my back slamming into a large picture frame hanging on the wall behind me.
Max turned to look at me, asking softly, “You okay?”
I nodded mutely, rubbing the sore spots on my upper arms. I should report that guy. I really should.
Mr. Evans tiredly shook his head. “Have I taught you nothing? Along comes a beautiful girl and you start thinking with your dick.”
I swallowed, unintentionally blushing at Mr. Evans’ choice of words. Max was as tense as a violin string as he bit out, “She saw me heal Isabel, okay?”
Wait. What? I saw what?
“No, no, I didn’t-“ I started but Mr. Evans interrupted me with an eye roll, still in conversation with Max. The eye-roll almost looked comical on his face. Completely misplaced.
“That’s old news. I got as much from Sarge.”
The Sergeant.
“What I would like to know is why you haven’t eliminated the problem? Even after Sarge’s recommendation…”
“I did,” Max objected sullenly.
It felt like I was taking part in a regular father-to-teenager reprimanding, but my gut was telling me something very different. This was much too serious.
“She doesn’t remember me healing Isabel,” Max said and gestured in my direction. “Right, Liz?”
I shook my head in earnest. This was probably the only thing I would be able to be truthful about.
“But now that you’ve so subtly revealed to her that I have,” Max pointed out and I watched Mr. Evans’ face grow darker.
“Don’t get smart with me,” he warned and I searched out Max’s hand again.
He let me take it, squeezing my fingers gently after weaving his fingers through mine.
“There’s something else,” Mr. Evans mused slowly, thoughtfully. “She knows something. Why else do we keep finding her in these ‘odd’-” he smiled as though he had uttered a joke, “- ‘situations’?”
“I’ve already told you,” Max said through clenched teeth. Impatient frustration in his voice. “I found her at her house, at the fire, and since then she’s been having a lot of questions. Why I was there? Why I didn’t help her mom.” Max shot me an exasperated look. “She won’t stop asking questions.”
His hand squeezed tighter around mine. He was nervous. Even though I couldn’t tell from the mask he was putting on towards his father, I could feel it in the dampness of his palm in mine.
I mustered up a strained smile. “Yeah. That’s me. Nosy as hell.”
Mr. Evans paused for a second and I felt a foreboding of darkness creep up my back. What would he do?
“I might as well take a look myself then,” he stated emotionlessly.
I froze. What?
Mr. Evans took a step closer to me again and I automatically walked sideways, pressing myself into Max.
Aliens. That’s the word that was flying through my head. They might be aliens.
Sudden blinding fear was making my knees weak and I was fighting the adrenaline pumping harshly through my heart as Max pulled on our joined hands, angling me behind his body.
“I’ll do it,” Max objected, and there was a no nonsense sharpness to voice.
“I think you’ve done enough,” Mr. Evans said slowly, taking a hold of my free arm and roughly pulling me out from behind Max.
“No,” I whispered brokenly.
I was scared now. I didn’t know what Mr. Evans meant by ‘taking a look’. Millions of frantic thoughts were running through my head. Most of them of my dead mom and how she had been special and maybe that’s why she was no longer with me. Thoughts of how dangerous these people probably were and that they wouldn’t shy away from committing murder - if needed.
“Dad, please,” Max said quickly, breathlessly, as he still held tightly onto my hand.
Mr. Evans shook his head in cool annoyance. “Just a look, Max. Relax.”
“Give her a second, okay? Just a second.”
Max’s plea was quietly considered by Mr. Evans before he reluctantly nodded his assent. “Make it quick.”
Max spun around, facing me. His eyes were frantic and scared, but they softened at the tears in my eyes. He released my hand and brought both of his hands up to cradle my face.
My eyes drifted closed at the contact and my closed eyelids pushed tears, which had been collecting in my eyes, down my cheeks.
“Don’t let him,” I whispered brokenly.
“He won’t harm you,” Max whispered back. “Okay?”
His question coaxed me to look up at him and there was a small encouraging smile on his cut lip as he added, “Trust me.”
“What will he do?” I asked thinly.
Max turned serious. “He’s going to look through your mind. Your memory. And then he’ll remove the ones that are connected to me - the atypical memories concerning me.”
No. No. I shook my head. I didn’t want him to remove them. He was going to make me forget? Everything that I’ve learnt? I would go back to thinking that mom’s death had been an accident? That Sean Carter was harmless?
That Max Evans was an arrogant jock?
“Don’t let him,” I repeated.
The pad of his thumb repeatedly brushed against my cheek. “Thank you for these last couple of weeks.”
TBC...
Last edited by max and liz believer on Fri Jul 07, 2017 4:40 am, edited 3 times in total.
-
Roswelllostcause
- Roswell Fanatic
- Posts: 1992
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: Motown
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 23, 7/31/15, p. 19
Max really shouldn't let his dad mess with Liz's head! That is such a bad idea! Please Max don't let him do it!
Check out my Author page for a list of my fics!
http://www.roswellfanatics.net/viewtopi ... 1&t=155639
http://www.roswellfanatics.net/viewtopi ... 1&t=155639
-
Morning Dreamgirl
- Addicted Roswellian
- Posts: 368
- Joined: Tue Oct 09, 2001 4:58 pm
- Location: United States
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 23, 7/31/15, p. 19
I'm going to remember the chocolate trick.
Sadist.
Okay. FB later. Right now I want to jump through the screen and smack Philip. Liz could have been an ally instead of him turning her into an enemy. A little hypocritical really. His wife appears human but a human isn't good enough for his son?
My list of people to hit or leave in the desert is growing.
Sadist.
Okay. FB later. Right now I want to jump through the screen and smack Philip. Liz could have been an ally instead of him turning her into an enemy. A little hypocritical really. His wife appears human but a human isn't good enough for his son?
My list of people to hit or leave in the desert is growing.
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 23, 7/31/15, p. 19
Great Chapter!!!! Please please please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz. Wow it seems like Isabel, Mrs. Evans are afraid of Mr. Evans. Max got a shock seeing Liz there. I think it was good Liz helped Max. I would have left instead of taking to Mr. Evans. Oh no! No good will come from Mr. Evans checking Liz's head. I think that was nice what Max told Liz. Please please please please don't let Mr. Evans erase Liz's memory of Max? Will Max et his father erase Liz's memory? Will Liz fight to keep her memories? Will Mr. Evans erase Liz memories? What will happen after wards? Will Liz leave? Will someone take her home? Will Max and Isabel watch Liz to see if she remembers? Will Liz remember Max and happened? Will Max save Liz from Sean? Will Liz and Sean talk? Will Liz stay away from Max and Sean? Will Max and Liz talk? Will Max tell Liz about himself? Will Max and Liz ever get together? Will Max and Liz kiss? Will Liz be able to feel Max? Will Max be able to feel Liz? Will Max be there to save Liz from danger? Is Roswell full of Aliens? Does Liz father know about aliens? Will Liz find out who are aliens and who are not? Will Liz keep finding Max hurt? Will Liz be able to help Max? Will Max and Liz get together? Will Max and Liz kiss? Will Liz and Maria go to more parties? Will Liz find out more things about Max? Will Liz be able to keep what she finds a secret? Will Max and Liz have a happy ending together? So sorry for the questions I was just wondering. Please please please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz.
From:
L-J-L 76
From:
L-J-L 76
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 23, 7/31/15, p. 19
Excuse my language but....WTF. Oh hell NO. He better not put a finger of her. How many times can one person mess with her mind before she ends up dead from it. She better kick his ass or something. I'm getting tired of Liz acting so weak and broken. I mean I know she's broken, her mom was murdered. ...I'm so angry right now lol don't mind me...I'm just here hoping Mr. Evans gets a piece of his own medicine. 
-
begonia9508
- Roswell Fanatic
- Posts: 1125
- Joined: Sat Nov 17, 2001 2:37 am
- Location: Somewhere lost in chocolat Land
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 23, 7/31/15, p. 19
WTF! It took me time to discover what it meant but after reading the part, I knew...
Of course, I forgot the vampires but it doesn't change the fact that I don't see more than being in the dark about what all these people are!
Maybe Humans, skins, aliens...
But Max saying 'adieu' to Liz, because his father was going to erase her memories, it doesn't mean that she won't remember because we all know that they tried once and she still remembered!
Thanks - waiting for some lights in my darkness! EVE
It took me time to discover what it meant but after reading the part, I knew...Of course, I forgot the vampires but it doesn't change the fact that I don't see more than being in the dark about what all these people are!
Maybe Humans, skins, aliens...
But Max saying 'adieu' to Liz, because his father was going to erase her memories, it doesn't mean that she won't remember because we all know that they tried once and she still remembered!
Thanks - waiting for some lights in my darkness!
EVE - Les jouissances de l'esprit sont faites pour calmer les orages du coeur!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!
- On reconnaît le bonheur au bruit qu'il fait quand il s'en va!
- L'amour vous rend aveugle et le mariage vous redonne la vue!
-
keepsmiling7
- Roswell Fanatic
- Posts: 2649
- Joined: Thu Jun 28, 2007 9:34 pm
Re: Unbreakable (AU, M/L, ADULT) Ch 23, 7/31/15, p. 19
Poor Liz.......running into Mr. Evans instead of Max.
Use the front door indeed........her sneaking around days are really over.
And I'm afraid that isn't all.
It's sad to think all of Liz's memories might be removed.........
I can't wait for more.
Thanks, Carolyn
Use the front door indeed........her sneaking around days are really over.
And I'm afraid that isn't all.
It's sad to think all of Liz's memories might be removed.........
I can't wait for more.
Thanks, Carolyn