Roswell Fanatics

Author: JO
Title: Fly For Freedom
Category: alt-Departure; Liz POV with CC/UC tendencies (Max-Liz-Michael triangle)
Disclaimer: The characters of Roswell are the property of Twentieth Century Fox Television and Regency Productions. All original characters and concepts are the property of the author. No profit has been made from the distribution of this work of fiction. Lyrics from Walk On by U2 (and Bono).
Summary: Faced with the choice of renewing her relationship with Max or pursuing a new relationship with Michael, Liz leaves Roswell for New York and a chance to repair her broken friendship with Maria. Sequel to Left Behind.

Author's Note: I want to let everyone know up front that I am currently working on some original material. Just know that where Max, Liz, et al once lived first and foremost in my brain, other characters have shoved them into a little corner. I'll update this and other fics when the Roswell mood strikes.

Special thanks to LongTimeFan for the awesome banner! Again, Liz, you ROCK!!



You could have flown away
A singing bird in an open cage
Who will only fly, only fly for freedom




Part 1

It was almost midnight by the time I arrived at the Hotel Belleclaire in New York City. My mother and I had scoured the Internet for reasonable hotel and flight accommodations as soon as it was settled I would leave Roswell for a few weeks. I was literally flying blind, having never been to New York or any city on the East Coast before. Stepping from the cab, staring heavenward at the immense skyscrapers and high-rises illuminated by the moonlight and from within the buildings, my heart dropped to my stomach and I feared I had made a terrible mistake.

I should have really been ashamed of myself for running away from Roswell. While my mother made the reservations for the flight and hotel, I packed a couple of suitcases in an effort to be ready for New York at a moment’s notice. As I folded pants and shirts, carefully buried bras and panties should my bags have to be searched, added a couple of pairs of shoes and my toiletries, it never occurred to me that I was leaving Roswell without saying good-bye to anyone. I knew both Max and Michael deserved an explanation for my impulsive behavior, but I couldn’t face either of them.

I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t scared, but… in actuality, I was. I was scared of what Max’s return meant for my future. I was scared of what Michael’s declaration of love meant for my future. I was scared… so I ran. But I didn’t run to Florida or stay in Roswell only to dodge both Michael and Max. I ran to New York and toward Maria, another relationship that had crumbled in my hands like a stale cookie.

The cabbie threw my bags onto the curb, startling me from my daydream. The fear of uncertainty crept upward from my stomach, its nausea unsettling me. I made a face as I pulled $30 from my purse and stepped toward the cabbie. He pulled the $30 from my hand and without even a ‘thank you’ or ‘have a nice life,’ he sped away, leaving me standing on the curb, my bags sprawled on the sidewalk. I stood speechless as I watched him merge into traffic, his taxi blending in with the other yellow taxis speeding down the street, and I suddenly realized I was alone in a city where the only person I knew was a woman I hadn’t spoken to in almost two years.

“Checking in, miss?”

I turned toward the voice in slow motion, almost on the verge of tears. Everything felt so different here. I felt different here. I was almost certain my impulsive decision to leave Roswell had been a mistake. “What,” I managed to spurt, my voice virtually non-existent as a car horn blared in the distance.

“Are you checking into the Hotel Belleclaire?” The middle-aged man smiled at me, his blue eyes bright and friendly.

“Yes,” I replied, my voice meek. “Yes, I am.”

“Let me help you.” He snapped his fingers and a bellhop rushed through the door, retrieving my bags from the curb.

“Thank you,” I said as the bellhop whizzed by me, but he and my bags were already inside the hotel while I remained frozen on the sidewalk.

“Miss?” The man held open the door for me, his hand at my elbow, his blue eyes silently urging me forward into the hotel lobby.

“Th…thank you,” I stammered, turning toward the front desk where the young bellhop stood, one of my bags on each of his shoulders.

“My pleasure, miss,” he replied with a tip of his hat. He turned back to the door, opening it for a couple dressed in their black tie finest. He stood, staring at the street, as if I had never existed, as if our moments together meant nothing. I proceeded to check in, my eyes never leaving him, much to the chagrin of the desk clerk I’m sure. With my room key in hand and the bellhop waiting for me at the elevators, I stepped toward the man and hesitantly tapped his shoulder. “Excuse me.”

“Yes, miss?”

“I…I just wanted to thank you, you know, for helping me. I…I’ve never been to New York City before and I’m from a small town out West so -”

“It was my pleasure, miss.”

Heat flashed across my cheeks and I lowered my head, pushing a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “I…I’ll be staying here for a few weeks, and I…I, well, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“Again, miss, it was my pleasure. I hope you enjoy your stay in The Big Apple.”

“My name is Liz, by the way.” I extended my hand to him, a soft smile on my face. He appeared taken aback at my behavior, his blue eyes flashed, turning the color of the sky before a storm, but he accepted my hand and shook it firmly.

“A pleasure, Liz. My name is Cal,” he replied with a toothy smile, his blue eyes bright once again.

* * *

I was jarred into consciousness at 8:00 am New York time by the most obnoxious of noises. It was a symphony unlike any I’d heard before: car horns, alarms, voices, vacuum cleaners, slamming doors. Wincing against the sunlight filtering in through the drawn curtains and the out of tune strains growing outside my hotel room, I padded across the room from my bed to the coffee pot. Given my late arrival at the hotel and my uncertain adjustment to a different time zone, I had planned on sleeping until at least 10:00 am Roswell time but New York City obviously had other ideas for me.

The coffee began to percolate, its aroma filling the room, and I felt somewhat better. Before my rude introduction to a New York City morning, I had been dreaming. I don’t remember what I had been dreaming about – my grandmother’s laugh, my mother’s perfume, my father’s chocolate chip pancakes – but I remember I felt happy, at peace. It was a sensation I hadn’t felt in a long time, so long that the happiness of my dream felt almost foreign.

Adding four spoonfuls of sugar and two of the hotel’s instant creamer, I pulled the mug to my lips and returned to the bed. I could see the slip of paper with Maria’s address lying on the nightstand beside the alarm clock but I ignored it as I pulled the covers to my waist and turned on the t.v. As much as I wanted to hide out in the hotel room all day, I couldn’t. My purpose for being in New York was two-fold: to escape Roswell and Max and Michael, and to find Maria.

I tried to watch the Today Show but found I couldn’t concentrate on any of the news stories or interviews and after almost thirty minutes of drinking coffee and lying in bed, I stood up and walked to the larger of my two bags, still standing in the middle of the room where the bellhop had placed them. I unzipped the suitcase and found my toiletries and underwear easily then headed to the bathroom for a long shower.

* * *

Emerging refreshed from the shower, I continued to get ready to face New York City. I selected a pair of khaki linen pants, a black twinset and my favorite pair of tennis shoes for my debut. Glancing at the alarm clock on the nightstand, I was surprised to see it was almost ten o’clock. I hurriedly applied some make-up and rolled my hair into a loose bun. I was at the door with my purse in hand when I remembered I had forgotten Maria’s address, so I ran back to the nightstand and retrieved the slip of paper before the hotel door had fully closed.

110 West 94th Street
New York City, NY

I had stared at a map of New York City on the plane ride from Roswell. Looking at the map, it seemed like Maria’s building was very close to the Hotel Belleclaire. I wasn’t sure the best direction to take, and secretly hoped Cal would be at the front door so I could ask him. The elevator doors parted and I stepped out into the lobby, the hotel much more lively than it had been when I arrived. Straining my neck, I tried to see if it was Cal at the door and I felt my balloon of hope deflate when I saw a younger man open the door for an elderly couple coming in off the street.

I stepped toward him regardless, not surprised when he smiled, tipped his hat and opened the door for me. “Can I get you a cab, miss?”

“Is Cal here today?” It was rude of me, I knew, to ignore his original question. Yes, I did need a cab. I wasn’t comfortable enough to walk to 94th Street, even though it didn’t seem that far from 77th. Maybe it was the small town girl in me, but New York City scared me. The high-rises, the lively pace, it was foreign and while I was glad to be out of Roswell, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay in New York as long as I had originally thought.

“Cal will be back on duty tonight. Did you need a cab?”

“Yes, please,” I replied, smiling at the man who didn’t seem to have as much patience for visitors as Cal did. “I need to go to 110 West 94th Street.”

He gave a loud, shrill whistle and waved his arm, a cab stopping immediately in front of the hotel. “110 West 94th,” he barked at the cab driver before slapping the roof of the car and turning away from me toward the hotel door.

“You gettin’ in?”

“Yes,” I replied, the meek and timid Liz Parker from last night returning, and I stepped into the cab and closed the door behind me.

* * *

It took only a minute or so to drive to Maria’s building but it cost almost $15. I wouldn’t be able to survive long in New York City at that rate with the meager savings I’d brought with me. I stepped out of the cab, both surprised and not surprised at the presence of Maria’s building. It was tall, like others in the city, but the more I stared at it the more I could see Maria living here. The Maria I’d known anyway. I wasn’t certain if she would still be my Maria or not. She had left Roswell to make her fortune elsewhere, and our friendship had suffered. From the looks of the building where she lived, she seemed to be succeeding.

As I tried to fathom Maria’s successes and how proud I was of her for going after her dreams, a black Lincoln Town Car pulled up beside me along the curb. A man and a woman, both carrying packs with camera equipment planted themselves at the trunk, their cameras pointed at the front door of the building. The doors of the building opened, and I was blinded by flash bulbs. Blinking rapidly, I saw Maria exit the building, surprised when instead of hopping into the car, she paused, staring directly at me.

Frozen in place in front of Maria’s building, I could feel my eyes widen with each step Maria took toward me. To my surprise, with flash bulbs still lightening the sidewalk like fireworks, she wrapped her arms around me and began jumping up and down.

“Oh my God! Liz!!”

Her excitement was contagious and it seemed completely genuine. When she released me from her tight embrace, tears trickled down my cheeks, Maria’s face complete with a wide smile and laughing eyes. I was staring at Maria, my best friend, and she looked incredible. Amy hadn’t been lying; New York City definitely agreed with her.

“What are you doing here, Liz?”

“I…I came to see you.”

“Really? You came all the way to New York just to see me?”

I wasn’t sure if she was skeptical as to the true nature of my visit because her tone was one of excitement and not questioning as I might have done. I would tell her the entire truth but I certainly didn’t want to confess the sordid tale to her on the street. There were so many ways I could tell her, so many things I could say to bring her squarely back into the alien abyss. This was a speech I hadn’t planned, a moment I hadn’t expected to have with Maria so soon.

“Liz, what’s going on?”

I could see my silence was only making her more concerned. She grabbed my arm and gave it a little shake, her manicured nails digging ever so slightly into my flesh. Exhaling, I said the only thing I could. “Max is back.”

This was waiting for me in my inbox so I thought I'd post. Thanks Liz as always!!


Part 2

In a flash of camera bulbs and a human barricade of two enormous men in black overcoats, I was pulled or in actuality hurried into the lobby of the building Maria had just appeared from. I could hear Maria talking rapidly, her voice rising and falling in that crescendo I’d heard so many times from her in intense situations. Or when she used to talk to or about Michael.

Shit.

We were on the 11th floor when I found my voice, terror seizing my heart. “Were you….are you talking to…Michael?”

She closed the flip-top on the cell phone as the elevator stopped on the 14th floor and she stepped forward to exit. She stared at me for a moment, like her brain had to play catch-up in the conversation or I’d spoken to her in an alien language. “Michael?” Her laughter echoed throughout the foyer of the apartment, leaving me no choice but to follower her, the two hulking bodyguards remaining by the front door. “Why would you think I was talking to Michael?”

“I…I don’t know,” I stammered, my stomach suddenly queasy. Her evasive answer made me question Maria, and I had never questioned her actions before. “Something in your tone maybe.”

“I was talking to my manager, one of them anyway,” Maria groaned, accompanied by an overdramatic eye roll. It was the kind of thing she used to do almost any time Michael was mentioned. It made me wonder if her managers frustrated her as much as Michael did once upon a time. “I was on my way to a cover shoot.”

“Oh.” It was a stupid thing to say, and I knew it as soon as it had left my mouth. I had disrupted my friend’s life, her new and seemingly non-alien-filled life, and my only response was ‘oh.’

“It’s okay,” Maria replied with a wave of her hand, and I noticed the large diamond solitaire shining brightly on her finger. The third finger of her left hand, the finger usually reserved for engagement or wedding rings.

“That’s a beautiful ring. Are you engaged?” I thought I had overstepped my bounds by asking such a question of Maria. After all, we hadn’t spoken in almost two years, and now, here I was, in New York after having told her Max was back, trying to act as if we had continued to be friends while she had moved to New York and I had remained in Roswell. I stared at her, suddenly shy, when I noticed that Maria looked like a cat that had just eaten a canary. With no further prompting, she pulled me onto the black leather sofa beside her, her eyes studying her ring.

“Actually,” she began, shifting her glance from the ring back to me, “I’m married.”

“You’re what? Married?” I hugged her, not knowing what else to do. Somehow I wasn’t surprised when she hugged me back. It was nice, the comforting feel of Maria’s arms around me, to know that even though the distance between New York and Roswell was great, our friendship didn’t seem to have suffered from her move or my stubbornness.

“Yeah, Billy and I got married about three months ago,” she replied as we released each other and settled back against the sofa. “That’s why the tabloids have been practically sleeping at my doorstep. Rumor has it, I’m pregnant.”

I didn’t know what to say but by the look on Maria’s face, I could tell she wanted me to ask so I did. “Well, are you?”

“I’ll be having a baby for Christmas.”

Tears immediately came to my eyes, and I hugged Maria once again. “Oh, Maria. That’s…I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me too, Liz.” And as she released me and stood to go into the kitchen, I could tell it was true. Happiness radiated off of her, like she was the sun and you’d lose your sight if you looked directly at her for too long. “So is Billy. He’s sky-high about being a dad.”

“I’ll bet.”

“But we can talk about me later,” she said, reappearing with two bottles of water and a tub of ice cream with two spoons. She offered a spoon to me and plopped beside me on the sofa. “Right now, I want to hear about Max.”

* * *

“So Tess and his baby are dead, and Max didn’t know her mindwarp had killed Alex.” Maria and I had spent the afternoon together, facing each other as we sat in Indian-style on her black leather couch. The tub of ice cream had long since vanished, its empty carton littering the hardwood floor beside us. In true Maria fashion, she had summed up the entire sordid tale in one sentence while it had taken me almost the entire afternoon to explain it to her. God, I had missed my friend. “I…I don’t know what to say, Liz. Talking about Tess again takes me right back to the pod chamber.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sure it does,” Maria said, her biting sarcasm in full effect. As she rose from the couch and padded back into the kitchen, I could feel the air simmer with her anger. It was growing the longer she remained silent, and I knew it would explode soon. I’d had almost a week to come to terms with what Max did and did not know, Maria’d had mere moments. Her anger rushed at me, like a spark searching for more fuel and I felt my face grow hot. “That bitch killed our friend and Max was crying because she was dead? I…I’m glad she’s dead. Otherwise, I’d have to kill her myself.”

“You don’t mean that, Maria,” I said as she sat down beside me once again, a bowl of fruit in her lap.

“That’s just it, Liz. I do mean it. First I’d yank every blonde curl out of her head then I’d….well, I haven’t thought much past that.” She popped a handful of raisins into her mouth, her teeth grinding them in anger. “How did Max come back again?”

“He said he traveled through a wormhole.”

“No, I mean, how did he escape? Didn’t Isabel seem think Khivar would kill Max?”

I must have paled because Maria offered me a handful of raisins, her hand wrapped tightly around my arm. It was something that had never entered my mind, Khivar killing Max. Why would Khivar allow Max to leave when he could torture him or kill him or keep him as a prisoner for the remainder of his life? “I…I never thought of that.”

“Didn’t you ask him?”

“No.”

“Michael didn’t ask him either?”

“Maria,” I began and suddenly, I couldn’t speak. My throat was dry, my stomach in knots. “Maria, there’s something you should know about Michael….and me.”

“You and Michael? What about you and Michael?” It only took a moment and I watched as the realization of what I was implying registered on Maria’s face. If she had been hurt, she didn’t show it. What I did see was surprise, followed immediately by understanding.

“Michael and I broke up a long time ago, Liz. I’ll always love Michael, just not in that way.”

“Michael told me he thought he could love me,” I blurted, closing my eyes as I allowed more truths to be told. “I had thought I might….but there was always you….”

“And Max,” Maria added, and I opened my eyes to stare at her. “And now Max is not just a memory in Roswell.”

“Exactly.”

She smiled and I smiled, feeling lighter now that I had sort of told Maria about whatever relationship Michael and I could have. There was no judgment or contempt in her eyes, only kindness and I knew that Maria had been truthful when she said she was over Michael. “So,” Maria began. “What are you going to do?”

I sighed as the doorbell rang, echoing through Maria’s apartment. I didn’t know what I was going to do, who I was going to choose. I had made a small step towards reclaiming Maria’s friendship by coming to New York but the fact that we had reconnected didn’t solve what I considered to be a much bigger problem. Max or Michael. Ultimately I knew I would have to choose. “I honestly don’t know,” I answered as Maria stepped past me to go in the foyer to open the front door.

“I don’t envy you, Liz. If it were me, I’d have given Max a swift kick in the balls the moment I saw him but my therapist says I’m just angry like that.”

I laughed aloud. I couldn’t hear who was at the front door of her apartment but I did hear Maria’s voice rise in anger, so I rose from my seat on the sofa and stepped into the foyer. My entire body warmed, my stomach began to churn.

“Where is she? I know she’s here.”

Max.

I stepped into the foyer, my arms wrapped around my stomach, my mouth suddenly dry. “Max?”

“I didn’t want to let him inside the apartment,” Maria said, “but a couple of tabloid photographers were stalking in the hallway, and I didn’t think it would be good for my image for photographs of me kicking Max’s ass to be shown to the world.”

“We knew you were here,” Max replied, ignoring Maria’s remark. He took a couple of steps toward me but I recoiled and he stopped his forward progress.

“We?”

And that’s when I noticed Michael standing beside Maria, his face neutral but clearly focused on me.

Part 3

“How….how did you find me,” I stammered as I stepped further away from Max and into the living room of Maria’s apartment. “I…I’ve only been here one day.”

“I have followers,” Max offered, he, Michael and Maria following me. “Once I knew you weren’t in Roswell, I contacted them to be on the lookout. One of them found you in New York.”

“The alien mafia still alive and kicking, I see,” Maria said, and I felt her arms around my shoulders, guiding me back to the black leather sofa where we had spent our afternoon.

“I was worried,” Max replied and I recognized Michael’s cough in the immediate silence following his admission. “We were worried,” Max amended, stepping closer to where I was seated on the sofa.

“Didn’t you ever think that Liz wanted to be alone,” Maria countered, stepping between me and Max. “That she didn’t want to see either of you.” Max was almost entirely blocked from my view by Maria, but I could clearly see Michael, standing just behind and to Max’s right.

I couldn’t understand the expression on his face. The memory of our kiss penetrated my mind, and I knew Michael had planted it. There were so many things left unsaid between us, between Max and me as well.

“Maria,” I said, grabbing onto her hand like a small child trying to get their mother’s attention. “Maria, it’s okay.”

“They shouldn’t have come here, Liz. They should have respected your privacy.”

“I didn’t tell them I was leaving,” I replied as I stood, Maria’s hand still enfolded in mine. “Only my mother knew I was coming to New York.”

“Oh.”

I couldn’t help but smile because just like that, Maria moved aside, allowing me to see Max clearly once again. I heard her in the kitchen, and I knew Maria well enough to know she was busying herself, biding her time. “I’ll be right back,” I said to Max and Michael then spun away from them toward Maria.

“If you need to go,” I began as Maria furiously scrubbed the countertop.

“Are you okay, Liz, I mean, really okay?” She paused and dropped the sponge into the sink, reclining slightly against the counter. “Because after the way Max has acted, I…I don’t want to leave you here with him.”

“Michael’s here,” I answered before I realized the implication that might have on Maria. If it hurt her, she didn’t show it. “I mean -”

“I know what you mean,” she said with a smile, wrapping her arms around my shoulders. “And I’m glad Michael’s here.” She squeezed me tightly then released me. “I’m happy, Liz. Happy in New York, happy with my life, just….happy. You deserve to be happy too.”

“Thank you.”

“So if you’re okay being here with them, I’ll take off for a few hours.”

“We’ll go back to my hotel, Maria.” She opened her mouth to argue but I shook my head. “Really, I’ve taken up your entire afternoon. It’s better if we go back to the hotel.”

“But you’ll call me before you leave, won’t you?”

Maria knew me too. She knew I wouldn’t be able to stay in New York any longer, not with both Max and Michael having come to find me, probably to take me back to Roswell. Neither had said as much but I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide from them any longer.

“Of course, I will.” We hugged again and I grabbed my coat and purse from the floor beside the sofa. I didn’t stare at either Max or Michael as I left Maria’s apartment but I knew both of them would follow me. Sure enough, they joined me in the elevator, and the three of us remained silent until we arrived at the Hotel Belleclaire.

* * *

We walked into the lobby of the Hotel Belleclaire following our short yet expensive cab ride from Maria’s apartment. Michael paid the cabbie. I stepped out of the cab the moment we parked against the curb. I didn’t turn around but I could tell it was Max following me instead of Michael. The heat from his body scalded me and, although I felt warmth when I was near either Max or Michael, I knew Max’s heat contained something different – anger.

Michael joined us at the elevators where we waited in silence. The elevator doors opened, I stepped on followed by both Max and Michael. We were only traveling five floors to my hotel room and I could have used the walk to gather my emotions and calm myself but I wanted to stay mad. I just wasn’t certain if I was more angry with Max or myself.

After entering my hotel room, I dropped my purse and card key onto the table beside the television set and headed straight for the bathroom. I could feel Max hot on my heels so I turned and politely closed the bathroom door in his face. Once alone, I released my anger the only way I knew how - through tears. Silent tears as I slid down the length of the bathroom door onto the cold tile floor - tears for my unanswered questions, tears for my confused emotions, tears for my broken heart. At that moment, I didn’t care about what anyone thought. I was grieving…so many things.

When I felt I had no more tears to shed, I stood up from the floor and turned on the faucet, cupping water in my hands. Splashing the cool water against my face felt like the first breath a drowning person takes when they reach the water’s surface. I felt alive, renewed. I pulled a hair tie from around my wrist and pulled my hair into a ponytail before splashing more water on my face. Then I opened the bathroom door.

Max was leaning against the dresser beside the television and Michael was sitting in one of the room’s two chairs. I wasn’t surprised that neither one of them had chosen to sit on the bed.

“Why did you come after me?”

“We were worried,” Max began, but stopped when I raised my hand to silence him. I was momentarily amazed such an action had silenced him but shook off my amazement and dug deeply for anger.

“Why would you be worried? I’m not in any danger any longer.”

“I have enemies.”

“Like Khivar?” My voice decibel rose as I crossed in front of Max and sat on the bed but I didn’t care what the other hotel patrons heard. I wanted the truth about what had happened when Max, Tess and their son crash-landed on their home planet. “Why did Khivar let you go?”

“Let me go?”

“Yes,” I repeated. “Khivar must have let you go after Tess died. Isabel had thought he would kill you.”

“I did die,” Max offered, his voice so low I had to strain to hear him.

“What?”

He sighed and I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Michael. He seemed just as interested as I was about whatever Max was going to say, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes narrow. It was a look I’d seen from Michael on many different occasions and that look meant he was paying attention.

“After Tess died, Khivar tortured me, publicly. Those who had been loyal to Khivar took pride in spitting on me, beating me, hurling insults at me in a language I didn’t understand. I spent almost a year being tortured by Khivar and his people, and then I died.”

“So you aren’t really the Max Evans we knew, are you,” Michael questioned and I glanced from Michael to Max. Max lowered his head and my breath caught in my throat. We had all changed, all of us, especially after Tess’ treacherous acts were discovered, but as I watched the person I assumed was Max stand in front of me, a chill ran down my spine. Was the Max Evans I had loved really dead? The man before me someone new?

“Wh…why would you come back to Roswell, if you aren’t Max?” Tears ran down my face as all of the possible scenarios played out in my mind. And they all ended as Michael had predicted.

Max chose Tess. He chose Tess and he left you behind.

“I’m still Max Evans,” he whispered, his attention focused on me. For a moment, I was lost in those amber eyes, remembering all of the good moments we had shared before his departure. “I died, and I was healed.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Michael groaned as he flopped backwards in the chair, throwing his right leg across its arm. “You died and someone healed you?”

“When Khivar tortured me,” Max replied, ignoring Michael and inching closer to me. “I made a vow that if I somehow managed to escape, I would come back to Roswell and find you, Liz. And when the healers took me, you’re what saved me. My memories of you.” He pressed his hand to my cheek and I melted against him, basking in the touch that had filled so many of my dreams, until his hand was ripped away from my skin, leaving me cold.

“I don’t think you should be touching Liz,” Michael said, his hand firmly around Max’s wrist. “You’re doing something to her. I want you to stop it.”

“Liz still loves me, Michael.” Max jerked his arm out of Michael’s grasp and stepped toward me once again. This time, however, I stepped away from him, curious to know if what Michael had said was true.

“Maybe she does but she’s afraid of you. She’s never been afraid of me.”

“Are you,” Max paused, glancing first at me then at Michael. “Liz, are you sleeping with Michael?”

“I don’t see -”

“None of your business, Maxwell. Even so, if Khivar thinks you’re dead, he’ll be pretty pissed when he finds out you are, in fact, alive. Real smart. You claim you came back for Liz but what you really did is put her life in danger.”

“You’re an alien too, Michael. If Liz is with you, she’s in just as much danger as she would be if she were with me.”

“Michael isn’t a king,” I said, and both of them turned toward me, almost like they had forgotten I was even in the room.

“I can protect you, Liz,” Max said, a smooth smile plastered across his face, and I had to look away from him. “I have followers, loyal followers who have sworn their lives to me. How can Michael protect you?”

“By leaving Roswell,” Michael responded, and I felt my heartbeat accelerate. Michael stared at me with warm eyes, and I bit my lower lip. “I told Liz we could leave Roswell. If your enemies can’t find her, they can’t hurt her.”

“My enemies will always be able to find Liz.”

“What,” I questioned, my face contorting into a strange mix of horror, confusion and anger. I meant nothing to Max’s enemies. At one time, I knew Max would have done whatever necessary to protect me, to save my life. But now…

“I marked you, Liz, the day I healed you.”

“You son of a bitch,” Michael roared, punching Max’s jaw, sending Max sprawling to the floor before I could process what Max’s statement meant for my future.

Thanks for the bumps and patience, everyone. LongTimeFan manged to convince me I was crazy and didn't really want to end this section as I had originally written it. And so, a different ending is born.....




Part 4

Max and Michael thrashed against each other on the floor at my feet. I couldn’t tell who was winning the fight and honestly, at that moment, I didn’t care. Max had dropped another bombshell on me. He was certainly good at that.

I marked you, Liz, the day I healed you.

Though I didn’t know the exact ramifications of what his statement held for my future, I could sense it wasn’t a pretty picture. When he healed me, Max had “marked” me, invariably branding me in an alien manner, an alien manner that could lead to Max’s enemies finding me. Finding me and possibly killing me.

Staring numbly at the floor, I saw fists and legs flying as Michael and Max continued to duke it out. Smears of red gave a sharp contrast to the cream carpet and I noticed that both Max and Michael were bleeding. “Stop,” I said meekly, bending at the waist to push whomever happened to be on top. “Stop it. Max! Michael! Stop!” My voice rose in anger and it was in that moment that Max grabbed onto my ankle, mistaking it for the bedpost. It only took that fraction of a second for our connection to flare, and I felt first-hand what Max had gone through during his time away from Roswell.

Sadness.

Anger.

Hurt.

Confusion.

Humiliation.

Death.

Rebirth.

Love.

I inhaled sharply as Max jerked my ankle, pulling me to the ground on top of him and Michael, entangling me into their brawl. I shoved against them with all my might, causing Michael to mistakenly punch me. I cried out and cradled my cheek which felt like it was on fire. The scuffle ended, both Max and Michael immediately turning their attention to me and my injury.

“Oh God, Liz, I’m so sorry,” Michael whispered, his thick hands around my waist, helping me up from the floor. “I didn’t see you.”

“I noticed.”

“Here,” Max began, and I felt his slender hands on the small of my back, “lie down on the bed. I’ll get some ice for your face.”

“I’ll get it,” Michael growled and before Max could argue, Michael was out the door, plastic ice bucket in hand.

“I’m sorry, Liz,” Max whispered as he sat beside me on the bed, his fingers gently feathering my hair out of my eyes. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

“I’m used to getting hurt,” I replied, tears stinging my eyes.

“I…I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe that.” He looked so sincere and he gave me a soft smile, the kind of smile that, once upon a time, would have melted my heart and made me forgive him. I couldn’t help but smile in return though I quickly winced when my cheek began to throb in response.

“Here’s the ice,” Michael said, and he placed a washcloth full of ice against my face. I hadn’t heard him come back into the room, and my eyes immediately went to Max. He was still sitting on the bed beside me, his left arm supporting his weight as he leaned across my legs. Was Max doing something to me? Had his own healing made him more alien? Too many questions penetrated my brain and I winced again, cradling the ice against my cheek.

“What’s wrong,” Max questioned, reaching for me. I shook my head, uncertain of what to say, my uncertainty leaving the three of us in silence.

“I’m going to the bar,” Michael announced after several moments.

“Michael, you shouldn’t drink -”

“I’m starving, Liz. You want me to bring something back for you?” He stood just to Max’s right and almost looked like he wanted an escape, not a sandwich from the hotel bar.

“No, thank you.”

“Max?”

“I’m not hungry but thanks.”

“Sure,” Michael replied with a shrug, turning to leave the hotel room without looking back. I felt something inside of me crack as I had been almost certain he would turn for one more look.

“How’s your face,” Max asked, startling me from my inner pity party. I carefully pulled the washcloth away from my cheek and he inched closer to inspect the injury. “You’ll live,” he replied with a small smirk, and I stared back at him through hooded eyes. I recognized this behavior – Max was flirting with me. And even though I would have enjoyed flirting back, more pressing issues clouded my mind. Like the fact that my life might be in danger.

“What did you mean when you said you marked me?”

“Liz -”

“Don’t sidestep me, Max,” I began, my anger rising. “If my life is in danger, I…I think I’m entitled to know.”

“I never meant for this to happen,” Max whispered as he pushed away from me and stood up from the bed. I straightened, placing the ice back on my cheek again, and watched as he paced at the foot of the bed.

“Are you…are you more…alien now?”

“Does that scare you?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that. He looked so lost. Not as lost as he had the day of his return when I told him I needed time to think, but still, there was an uncertainty in his eyes. A confusion and I could sense that he had never thought he could be so conflicted, especially where I was concerned.

“I’m not sure,” I responded truthfully, lowering my head a tiny bit. “I…I feel things, Max, alien things when we touch. Things I never felt before.”

“But you have to feel that I still love you, Liz. You do feel that, don’t you?”

I opened my mouth to answer but his lips silenced me. I felt my skin tingle as he ran his hands down my arms and around my waist. He pulled me tight against him, stretching our bodies across the bed. My mind became jumbled, my thoughts incoherent; all I could feel was Max. I was drowning in him.

“Don’t you feel that,” he whispered, and a chill ran down my spine. There was no denying that I felt it. How could I not with his groin pressed tight to my thigh. His hands crept lower, trailing fire down the lower half of my body. I was lost in a haze of stars as I felt Max’s lips on my neck. From deep within my soul, I felt an ache, a need for Max, like I had experienced only once before. As I fisted his cotton t-shirt in my hands, certain I would die from the fire raging underneath my skin, my brain began to fight back.

Max chose Tess. He chose Tess and he left you behind.

I think I could love you, Liz.

My enemies will always be able to find Liz.

I marked you, Liz, the day I healed you.

Drawn back into the reality of the situation, with Max’s warm hand resting high on my ribcage, his mouth at my collarbone, I began to squirm against him. I couldn’t allow myself to give in to these desires, no matter how much I ached for Max at that moment. I wasn’t thinking clearly; I wasn’t thinking at all. “We can’t,” I said, at last able to free myself from underneath Max. I stood quickly and began straightening my appearance. “We can’t do this,” I said again for good measure.

“Yes, we can,” Max argued as he too rose from the bed, never taking his eyes off me. “We love each other, Liz. We can do anything we want.”

I stood unmoving, watching Max as he seemingly stepped toward me in slow motion. He touched my face, his simple touch setting me on fire once again. He brushed his lips across mine in a teasing manner, a manner so unlike Max that it made me pause. “Max,” I whispered though it sounded more like a moan than a whisper.

“I know you, Liz,” he whispered, his hands roaming across my waist and hips. “I can give you things Michael has never dreamed of,” his voice trailed off and in an instant, we were surrounded by stars, the smell of the desert filtered through my nasal passages. My breath hitched as I realized we were standing near the old radio tower where we had found the orb. Before Tess. Before Alex’s death. “We can start again, Liz. Michael will never love you the way I do.”

“You don’t know that,” Michael’s voice boomed in my subconscious and the stars fell away, revealing my hotel room and Michael in the doorway, a look of determination on his face.

Part 5

“Michael,” I said, immediately stepping out of Max’s embrace while Michael stepped further into the hotel room.

“I’ve been thinking,” he began, standing in front of me, separating me from Max though I could still feel the heat from Max’s stare against my cheek. It was distracting, to say the least, to feel Max’s warmth all around me while I tried to focus on Michael. Then I felt Michael’s soft hands cradle mine and all remnants of Max’s warmth disappeared, instantly taken over by Michael’s desire for me.

It was shocking to learn how much Michael wanted me. To know how jealous he was of Max at that moment. To learn how truthful he had been when he said he could love me.

“- what’s best for you.” I returned to the present just in time to hear the final snippet of Michael’s sentence.

“What?”

“I said we all need to focus on what’s best for you.” He guided me to the corner of the bed, past where Max was standing, and he stepped away from me once I was settled on the bed. “When we found out you were missing, I…I couldn’t think straight. All I could think was that something had happened to you.”

“We both thought that,” Max amended but Michael kept his eyes on me and acted as if Max hadn’t spoken at all.

“All I could think about was finding you, making sure you were okay. I’ve been doing that for almost two years, Liz. Watching you. Making sure you were okay. At first, it was out of duty, a sense of loyalty to Maxwell, but then….” He paused and kicked at the carpet with the toe of his shoe. I glanced down too, somehow not surprised when I saw nothing on the floor. “When you were gone, I felt like….like I was dying.”

“Michael -”

“Let me finish,” he instructed and I settled back onto the bed, my attention firmly focused on him. “Before Max came back, I told you I thought I could love you.”

“I remember.”

“And now that Max is back, I still mean it. I think I could love you, Liz. Whether that be in Roswell, Florida, Japan, wherever you want it to be.”

I opened my mouth to respond to Michael’s declaration but slowly closed it, realizing I had no words to say, no response that would make sense. Any response I made, someone would be hurt. I felt the weight of the world balance on my shoulders, and I sighed because it had been a long time since I had felt such responsibility.

“I’m not sure…what to say,” I admitted, staring at Michael then to my left at Max. Both men were eerily silent, like they were hanging on my every word. I felt my cheeks redden under their strenuous gazes; it had also been a long time since anyone had been so invested in my opinion.

“Just tell us the truth,” Michael offered.

“Tell us what’s in your heart,” Max suggested.

I sighed again because I didn’t understand what was in my heart, and I didn’t know truth from lies. I stood up from the bed and crossed the room to the large-pane window looking out onto New York City. It was a bustling metropolis, a place I could easily lose myself. A place where I could become invisible, where I could be Liz Parker or anyone I desired to be. But that was the problem – my desires were unknown.

“When I left Roswell,” I began, my back to both Michael and Max, “I left with a purpose. I left to try and figure things out, to get know my own heart again. You have to understand how….lost I feel. First Michael tells me he could love me. Then Max returns and tells me Tess and their son are dead. I…I try to escape, to give myself a little time to sort out these feelings but the two of you track me down.”

I felt an almost overwhelming anger rise up from my stomach. My entire body burned with it, like my burgeoning rage was fueling me, pushing me toward resolution. I closed my eyes, the world in front of me spinning at a dizzying pace; I didn’t understand this reaction. I didn’t understand it and I couldn’t control it.

“What do you need, Liz?”

With Max’s question, the anger boiling within me subsided. My thoughts became my own, my brain no longer muddled by feelings of pity, confusion and anger. I could breathe again.

“I need time,” I admitted, allowing myself to say the first thing that came to my mind. I reasoned that if I didn’t think about what I was saying or the impact it would have on the three of us and our futures, the truth would come out eventually.

And the truth shall set you free.

There were still so many questions I had for both Max and Michael, and for myself. Questions that wouldn’t be answered today or even tomorrow. But they lingered in the air between the three of us, etching their place onto my heart and in my brain.

“I think you both should go back to Roswell.”

“What about you,” Michael questioned, his brow furrowing in unspoken concern. I smiled, knowing he was arguing with himself about leaving me.

“I’ll be fine.”

“What are you going to do, Liz?”

“I’m going to stay here,” I replied, and I felt the tension on my shoulders lighten just a bit. “I’m going to stay in New York.”

“For how long,” Max continued, his face unreadable. At one point in my young life, I would have known everything Max Evans had been feeling and thinking just by staring at his face. In our years apart, however, Max had gained the ability to hide his true feelings. Torture would make that a necessary trait, I suppose.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here or where I will go when I decide to leave.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Michael argued, his voice remarkably calm though I could sense the irritation boiling inside of him. “If Max’s enemies find you, you have no protection, no way to fight them.”

“I’ll deal with that when and if the time comes.”

“Liz -”

“I’m going to be fine, Michael. I promise.” I smiled and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around me, almost swallowing me whole, and placed a gentle kiss to my forehead. He held me as he if would never see me again.

Michael released me and quickly walked out of the hotel room. I knew he still didn’t like the idea of leaving me here, but it wasn’t Michael’s decision. It was mine, and it was a decision I’d have to live with, regardless of the outcome.

“He doesn’t want to leave you.”

I nodded my agreement as Max stepped closer to me, sweeping me into his arms.

“I don’t either.”

I wasn’t surprised by Max’s kiss, the touch of his lips against mine was so familiar, a memory I had desperately clung to after his departure. I allowed myself to be lost in him for just a moment, adding this to my collection of memories for the photo album in my brain, then I stepped backward out of his arms.

“I’ll be fine,” I replied with a small smile.

“I know you will.” He touched my cheek, letting his palm linger against my skin for several seconds. And with a smile, he turned and left the hotel room.

I turned back to the window as silence filled the room, the sun setting against the New York skyline. I wondered briefly about Maria, if I should call her to let her know I wasn’t going to Roswell after all. I also wondered if Michael and Max would really return to Roswell as I had asked them to do. As I stared out the window to the streets below, a voice from my past echoed through my brain. It was the voice of a scared girl, her heart broken, her future uncertain.

I’m gonna be alone.

I remembered how I felt that night on my balcony with Future Max, how alone, how lost and uncertain I was. In some ways, I was still that girl. But for now, that thought didn’t seem so frightening any more.

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Author's Note: And so it ends. I may decide to pick up this universe, this triangle, again (because everyone really wants Liz to choose one of them) but for now, this is the end. Like Liz, I need time.

I want to thank my wonderful beta and banner maker LongTimeFan. She has been awesome throughout the entire 2 fics! Thanks again, Liz!!!

And thanks to all of you who read Left Behind and Fly For Freedom! I appreciate it so very much!!

Happy Reading!

JO