Roswell Fanatics

Chapter 10


Liz entered the trailer, her nose scrunching as the smell of alcohol assaulted her. She could feel the now familiar emotions rolling off Hank that she'd come to associate with his drunken stupors. Ten steps from the doorway to her bedroom. Not so far really, she thought to herself. She could lock herself in until Michael got home. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the living room, a quick pace toward the bedroom door. One step, two, three....


"It's abou' damn time, Lizzie." The voice stopped her in her tracks, slurred and angry. Never a good sign. She turned to see Hank lounging in his chair, beer can in hand, five, no six, empties littering the floor on the side of his chair. Four, five, six steps. Four more to safety. Seven, eight.


"Where do ya think yer goin'?" Hank stumbled up from the chair, reaching out to grab her arm. "Where the hell's my damned dinner?"


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"I'll tell you where you can put your damned dinner," Michael muttered under his breath, flipping what seemed like the billionth burger on the grill. He placed a burger on the nearest plate, dumping an order of saturn rings on the side and shoved the plate through the pickup window.


"Order up, Maxwell." He rolled his eyes as a smiling Max came over. he wanted nothing more than to smack that arrogant smile off his face. Turning back to the grill, he let his thoughts wander back to Liz as she'd looked at the end of school. He needed to do something about Maria. He'd seen how red and puffy Liz's eyes were and he'd known that she'd been crying. Maria'd gone too far this time. Liz was off limits. He'd been livid when Isabel had told him what happened in the locker room. He'd wanted to hunt Valenti down then and there and teach her not to mess with his angel.


"Michael, the guy on eight wants to know where his Will Smith is," Max called. "What's taking you so long tonight?" He sighed, growing more agitated by the minute.


Michael grunted and tossed another burger on a plate, added a side of space fries and shoved it in Max's face. "Will Smith burger." He smirked sarcastically at Max. Turning back to the grill, he mumbled, "Hope he chokes on it."


He checked the never ending order wheel and threw three more patties on the grill. Was the whole damn town eating here tonight? Michael tossed another batch of fries into the basket and dropped it into the fryer. Damn he wished he was home tonight. He needed to be with Liz, to reassure her that Maria wasn't a threat. He needed to undo the damage those girls had inflicted. He wanted to hold her in his arms, stroke her silky hair, kiss her sweet lips.


He flipped another burger absently, lost in his daydream about Liz. The burger went flying across the room, landing at Mr Parker's feet. "Are you going to to clean this up, Michael?" he asked, brow arched.


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Hank was staring pointedly at the filthy, beer can riddled floor. Liz rolled her eyes. Why the hell should I have to clean up after him? If he wants to get drunk and make a mess, let him clean it up himself. She handed Hank the sandwich she'd made him. Six steps from the chair to the bedroom. She turned to head to the safety of her room when Hank's hand shot out and grabbed her wrist again. "Look at this place. It's a freakin' pigsty. Clean up this mess, Lizzie," he demanded.


One step, two. Hank yanked her back. "Clean it yourself, Hank. It's your mess," Liz argued. She bit back the fear threatening to overwhelm her. She could handle Hank. She just needed to keep her head and she'd be fine, she tried to convince herself. Six steps, damn it, six little steps. She eyed the bedroom hungrily, wanting more than anything to escape Hank's vile presence.


"I said clean this room up, Lizzie. Wasn' I clear enough for you?" he demanded angrily, shoving her to the floor. Her head hit the floor hard enough to see stars as pain exploded behind her eyelids. She lay there, waiting for the pain to fade, before slowly moving back to her knees.


Liz groaned as she shifted her weight and gathered up the empty beer cans. Just do what he wants and then you can escape. Just give him what he wants this once. She gathered up the cans and stood to take them to the kitchen, frowning when a couple fell from her arms. Hank took her completely by surprise, his boot connecting with her ribs, knocking the air out of her lungs. "YOU STUPID, WORTHLESS......."


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".....piece of crap," Michael cursed softly, kicking the dishwasher in frustration. Could this night possibly get any worse? It felt like he'd been here for days already. Anything that could go wrong, had, and it was driving him up the wall. To make matters even worse, his shift wasn't even half over. Four more endless hours. He moved back to the grill, turning the burgers with a sigh. "Maxwell," he began when the other boy entered the kitchen. "We need to do something about Maria." Max was really the last person he wanted to team up with at the moment, but he was getting desperate. He needed to solve this problem before Liz got hurt.


Max nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she's becoming a serious threat." Michael rolled his eyes as Max completely missed the point, as always. But he couldn't complain. Max was willing to help, which was more than he'd expected.


"So, any suggestions, oh Fearless Leader?" Michael tried to suppress the sarcasm in his voice. It would get him nowhere. "Any words of wisdom to help us set Valenti straight? Cuz I gotta tell ya, Maxwell, I'm getting really..."



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".....SICK OF THIS. I TAKE YOU INTO MY HOME AND THIS IS THE WAY YOU SHOW YOUR GRATITUDE?" Hank growled, sending another boot to Liz's side, tearing a groan from her lips as she fell back to the floor. He grabbed her arm, yanking her back to her feet.


Liz bit her lip in pain. Terrified, tear filled eyes silently begged him to stop. But all she received was his cruel, almost satisfied looking smirk.She swallowed audibly in dread. He was beyond all reason, in a drunken rage, and Liz knew she was trapped. God, just six more steps. It should have been so easy.


She swallowed again against the burning pain coursing through her. Desperate eyes darted around the room, searching for anything that could be used to defend herself. Nothing. Well, nothing human at least. She could easily take him out with her powers, but she wouldn't risk it. The Sheriff was already watching them closely enough. And Hank reporting unnatural powers, even if it was a drunken report, wouldn't be good for them.


Oh God, please, she prayed silently. Please just let this be over. She let her mind wander, letting thoughts of Michael drown out the nightmare she was experiencing, feeling his arms wrapped protectively around her, and she was torn. She wished so desperately that he was here with her, protecting her, and at the same time she was so grateful that he was working, safe from Hank's wrath.


"...talking to you, Lizzie. Are you listening to me?!?" But the truth was, she wasn't listening. She could hardly even hear him anymore. Her senses seemed to dull and her head felt like a ton of bricks. No doubt she'd received a concussion when she'd hit the ground.Hank raised his hand and brought it down across her face, his ring biting into her cheek and drawing blood.


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"Damn it!" Michael hissed as the knife slipped, slicing his finger. He brought the injured digit up to his mouth, sucking on it. He needed to stop thinking about Liz and concentrate on what he was doing before he killed himself. Placing yet another burger on a plate he grumbled.
How many hamburgers could he possibly make? He thought for sure he'd already fed the entire town by now. What, were they all starting to come from out of town as well?


He just sighed and went back to work. He was determined to get all the orders finished and get out of there. The smell of grease, mixed with the chaos in the dining room was getting to him. Not to mention, he was anxious to get home to the sexy woman in his room.


It was surprising how fast the time went when he just set his mind to a task and worked. The once overflowing order wheel had dwindled down to about three orders. Max had already started wiping down the countertops. Five tables in the restaurant and thirty minutes until close. He could make it. He had to.


"So, what are you thinking 'bout doing about the Maria problem?" Max asked, sounding as if he actually cared. Course he does, Michael thought bitterly. He's had time to think about it, and now he realizes that it involved Liz.


"I could use my powers on her," Michael suggested eagerly.


"Michael, you know you can't do that," Max chided. "We can't go using our powers on the Sheriff's daughter."


Michael scowled. "Well.....I could quit school," he suggested.


"Oh, yeah, because that won't attract attention," Max grumbled.


"Well what else do you want me to do?" Michael grumbled. He really was going to have to come up with this on his own.


"I don't know... We'll figure it out," Max said to him as if he were five.


"God, this is getting us nowhere." Michael sighs throwing the last and final order of the night in the order window.


"Well what do you want me to say? She has no weaknesses." Max shrugged and grabbed the plate. He quickly walked it over to table 3 and came back.

"She has to. Anybody with that much power has a weak spot, and it's usually pretty big. We just need to figure out…" Michael paused, a look of excitement passed through his eyes. "Do you think its do late to call Isabel up?" He smiled deviously.


"What are you thinking?" Max eyed him knowingly.


"Just an innocent little dream walking." Michael shrugged, hoping that Max would agree with it. They had no other options.


"I'll call her. You just start scrubbing the grill. I don't want to be here forever." Max sighed.


"Tell me again why you got promoted to manager?" Michael rolled his eyes.


"Because I'm a hard-worker," Max answered defensively.


"You mean because your dad runs the place." Michael smirked. "God, this is great. I can't wait to teach that girl-"


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"..another lesson?" Hank tossed the dazed girl back to the floor.


Liz groaned as she hit the floor again, struggling to hang on to the last thread of consciousness. The bedroom. She needed to reach the bedroom before she gave in. Struggling weakly to her knees she began to crawl toward her sactuary, pain spasming through her battered body with every movement. A little farther. Almost there. Hank was still ranting loudly behind her as she inched her way closer to the bedroom door.


He was far too drunk by now to realize that she was getting away, maybe she'd be able to reach safety finally. Maybe she'd actually make it to the bedroom before she passed out.


Her hand brushed the door and she pushed it open, shuffling inside before she crumpled back to the floor, her eyes closing as she gave in to the pain. "Michael......" she groaned as the darkness claimed her at last.


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Michael walked down the silent streets of Roswell toward the trailer park. His mind drifted back over the plan again. Isabel had quickly agreed to dreamwalk Maria to try to find her weakness. Michael hadn't been surprised by her enthusiastic respsonse to his request. He knew Isabel had gotten close to Liz. A frown crossed his lips. Seemed as if everyone wanted to get close to her. Michael wasn't fooled for a moment. He knew Max wanted Liz. And he didn't like it one bit.


He was so completely lost in his thoughts he didn't even realize he'd reached the trailer park until he heard Hank's drunken ramblings. He froze at the sound, paralized in place for a moment before thought kicked back in and he turned to run. Damn it. Liz! He couldn't leave without Liz. He glanced back at the trailer. She was probably asleep. She'd be safe enough until morning. But then who was Hank yelling at? He couldn't chance it. He couldn't let anything happen to Liz.


He moved slowly toward the trailer. He'd just poke his head in, check things out. If Liz was in danger, he'd jump in to protect her. If she was safe in their room he'd hightail it back to Max's. Michael eased the door open and slipped inside, poking his head around the corner.


"BOY!" Hank bellowed.

Chapter 11



Sheriff James Valenti sat in his office, reading his report for the hundredth time, the same inconsistancy glaring up at him from the signed statements. Two shots were fired. The Deluca girl, Parker boy and the Guerin boy had all agreed on that small but significant fact. Two shots fired. He turned again to the crime scene report. How was it possible? Two shots were fired, but only one bullet was recovered. His men had been beyond thorough, so where was the second bullet? What the hell was going on? What were those kids hiding?


And the Guerin girl. She fainted after the first shot was fired. Yet the Parker boy had carried her out of the cafe when he'd gotten there, and he'd seen the Guerin boy and Deluca girl leave with her later, still apparently unconscious.


There had to be more going on there than a simple fainting spell. The question was how to go about ferreting out the truth. Jim didn't like unsolved cases. And he was determined to get to the bottom of this one.


"Sheriff, here's that report you were waiting on, Sir."


"Thank you, Hansen." Valenti took the report, flipping through it eagerly, the excited grin quickly replaced by a scowling frown. "What the hell is going on here?" he growled to himself in frustration. The drops of what they'd thought to be blood came back unidentifed. Definitely not human blood. Or animal blood either apparently. Nor was it paint, dye, or any of the chemicals they'd tested for at the lab. So what the hell was it then?


Disappearing bullets. Blood that wasn't blood. What started out as a simple robbery was turning into one big mystery, and James Valenti didn't like mysteries. Simple, orderly, neat. That was how Jim liked things. Chaos, mystery, confusion. They were the enemy.


Asking for help, admitting that he couldn't handle a problem on his own, also rankled Jim acutely. But this seemed to be one case where help was needed. A decision made, Sheriff Valenti picked up his phone and dialed. "Sheriff Jim Valenti, Roswell. Yes, I have a situation here. You've already seen the lab reports? Yes, very odd. Thursday morning? I'll be here. Nine AM it is. Yes, see you then." Jim placed the reports in his desk before rising with a sigh. He'd worry about this again in the morning. It was time he got home and checked on his daughter.


"I've got it!" Maria exclaimed excitedly. "I know how to get Michael." She danced around the room, celebrating. It was perfect, it would make him hers for good. And it would completely destroy that little tramp trying to hone in on Maria's man.


"You going to share?" Alex asked. He really didn't care, as long as it didn't involved him doing anything that would put him on the Michael Guerin radar.


"Nope. Don't wanna jinx it. You'll just have to wait and see," the blond piped up animatedly, still twirling dizzily.


Maria stopped her dancing, flying across the room to hug Jim as he entered. "Hi, Daddy! Alex and I ordered Chinese, yours is in the oven." She kissed his cheek before sweeping back into the den. Jim chuckled at his daughter's enthusiastic greeting before moving into the kitchen to retrieve his dinner.


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"BOY!" Hank bellowed again. "GIT YER ASS IN HERE!"


Michael froze, turning to face the man he despised. "It's late, Hank. I just want to get to bed." He just wanted to get to Liz. He needed to see her, needed proof that she really was alright.


"Yer worthless, jus' like her. It's no wonder yer parents abandoned ye. Ungrateful brats, the both of ye." Hank popped open another beer, taking a deep swallow. He glared at the boy. "Neither one of ye learns yer lessons, either. Too stupid ta jus' do wha' yer told."


Michael's blood ran cold as Hank's words registered. "Where is she, Hank? I swear, if you hurt her..." God, please let her be sleeping.


"Ya'll wha', Mikey? Ya'll do nothin', tha's wha', 'less ya wan' me ta send her 'way again," Hank threatened, his slurred words running together so badly that they were barely recognizable. He smirked. He'd found Mikey's biggest weakness, and he couldn't wait to see the pain in the brat's eyes when he saw his precious Lizzie.

Michael clenched his fists, using every drop of his will to keep from wiping that smirk off Hank's face. "Where is she?" he bit out instead, his eyes traveling toward the closed bedroom door. Please let her be safe. If Hank really had hurt her...


Hank rose from his chair. "Ya need another lesson too, Mikey? I'd be more than happy ta dish one out," he offered. Michael growled, fists clenched tightly at his sides. If Hank took one step toward him..... "Ferget it. Yer no' worth it. 'Sides," he smirked. "There's worse thin's I can do to ya than a beatin', ain' there, Mikey?" He glanced pointedly toward the bedroom door and Michael saw red, stomping past Hank to tear the door open.


"LIZ!" He fell to his knees, gently pulling her into his arms, his eyes taking in her bruised and bloody face, and he turned his murderous glare back toward the living room. "I'LL KILL YOU!" he snarled. Hank just stood there, smirking gleefully.


Michael kicked the door closed and gently lifted Liz from the floor, settling her on his bed. Tears fell unchecked as he traced the cut on her cheek, his eyes taking in the bruises on her arms. God, he was so STUPID. All night he and Max had been so damned worried about Maria Valenti. He'd never given a thought to the real threat. "Liz," he choked out softly. "God, Liz, I'm so sorry..." He lunged for the door, yanking it open and headed straight to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth, then stormed into the kitchen to fill a dishrag with ice cubes. He kept his eyes averted from the man he wanted to pummel and forced himself to go back to his room. He'd deal with Hank later. Right now, Liz needed him. And she would always come first.


Michael gently wiped the blood from her face, swiping impatiently at his tears, and pressed the ice pack to her bruised cheek. His body trembled with the chaotic emotions roiling inside him. How dare that bastard lay a hand on her! "Wake up, angel," he begged her softly, his fingers moving lightly over the bruises on her arms, wishing he had Max's ability to heal. He wanted to be the one to take her pain away. He felt so damn useless as he tenderly brushed a lock of hair back from her face.

"Liz, wake up," he pleaded desperately, gathering her back into his arms. He lifted her shirt, baring the angry bruises marring her delicate skin and growled softly. Lifting it carefully up over her head, Michael tossed the bloody shirt to the floor. Fresh tears fell as he brushed his fingers over one of the bruises on her ribs, recoiling when his touch elicited a groan. "I'm sorry. I should have been here," he groaned. "I should have been here to protect you."


Liz groaned softly as Michael's voice penetrated the darkness enveloping her. She struggled back to the surface, wimpering as the pain invaded her mind, her eyes opening slowly, taking in the sight of Michael, kneeling beside the bed, gently squeezing her hand. "Michael...." she groaned. She winced, reaching a hand to her throbbing head.


"Liz?" Michael choked out gruffly, peering down at her, the fear shining brightly in his eyes. "God, Liz, I'm so sorry."


Tears filled her eyes, her heart breaking at the guilt lacing his voice and she lifted her hand to his cheek, her fingers tenderly wiping away his tears. "It's not your fault, Michael."


"I should have been here," he insisted stubbornly. He'd failed her. The one person in the world who meant everything to him and he hadn't been there to protect her.

"No, Michael! I'm glad you weren't. If you'd been here Hank would have hurt you too," Liz argued.
She shifted on the bed and groaned as the movement sent burning pain slicing through her body.


"I could have protected you," he protested loudly.


"Michael, look at me," Liz commanded softly. "Do you remember what happened with Isabel?" Her eyes searched his face, needing him to understand that he couldn't have protected her, even if he'd been there. Michael's eyes widened as her words sunk in. "Michael, I'm glad you weren't here." She lay back wearily, her hand returning to her head. The darkness was rising again and she fought against it, needing to reassure Michael that she was ok.


"I should call Max. He can heal you," Michael mumbled. Liz squeezed his hand.


"No, Michael, he can't. Hank may be drunk, but he knows he hurt me tonight. If I was suddenly fine tomorrow......" But it was more than just protecting their secret, she admitted to herself silently. The only person she wanted to heal her was Michael.


Michael growled, agreeing reluctantly. "I won't let it happen again, Liz." She squeezed his hand weakly. The pounding in her head was growing, the darkness closing around her again. She was so tired, too tired to fight. Her eyes drifted shut and her hand went limp in his as she gave in to the darkness once more.


Michael crawled onto the bed and carefully wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She was so small, so fragile, his angel. He could have lost her tonight. Just the thought sent shivers up his spine. He pressed a kiss to her head, breathing in the light strawberry scent of her hair. Hank would pay, he vowed silently. He lay there, keeping his silent vigil and plotting Hank's demise, until the sun rose.