Miles To Go (Sequel to Linger) ~(CC, ADULT)~ {COMPLETE}

[JO]

many many gracious thanks to Blanca for the lovely banner


Title: Miles To Go
Author: JO
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.
Summary: Five years after Linger, Liz has visions of Isabel and Alex.

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Part 1


April 27, 2007

I am haunted by my past, haunted by my dreams - dreams about Alex Whitman and Isabel Evans Ramirez. It was almost five years ago that I had my first vision, and after Isabel’s death, the visions didn’t return. I’m not sure why they are returning now; I just know I fear them, and I haven’t felt this afraid in a very long time.

Max and I have a seemingly perfect life to our New Orleans neighbors. One of our neighbors, Mrs. Beaudreux - a widow who has probably lived in the Garden District her entire life - sometimes watches the kids for an afternoon. She and her husband had no children of their own and claims that ours light up her dull life. If she only knew how much they could light things up. Max works at the Louisiana State University museum in Jackson Square. It’s a part time job, but it pays what little bills we have and helps with the tuition. I’ve been staying at home with the kids, not necessarily on permanent leave from Tulane University but just because I haven’t felt like doing much studying. Keeping up with a four-year old (almost five - I can hear Alex correcting me in my mind), a three-year-old, and a ten-month-old is sometimes more than I can handle, although Alex and Hope will start pre-school next year. Jesse provides for Alex’s monthly welfare and we’ve saved the majority of the money Cal gave me, thanks to prime investment advice from an accountant that Mrs. Beaudreux recommended. Max and I have a better future outlook now than we did when we started our marriage. Something still feels wrong though, even after all these years of peace.

I don’t remember how long I’ve been having the dream but it’s always there in some form, plaguing my memory. We’re at the Crashdown, just like any other normal day during our high school years, and Alex and Isabel are sharing one side of a booth. They seem happy, peaceful even, and quite comfortable with each other in the way they were just before Alex’s death. We sit across from each other, our heads leaned close together in discussion. I don’t know what we’re talking about but the dream always begins at the same place: they are accusing me of something. They tell me I haven’t lived up to my end of the promise. I, of course, plead with them but they are adamant in my errors. They tell me I have to tell the truth, that I promised I’d tell the truth. I am so upset, I’m shaking. I can’t form complete thoughts and my voice stutters as I try to talk to them. All I can do is cry. Then I wake up.

It’s hard not to look over my shoulder every now and then, or to not expect this life to be a dream, but I’m getting better at it. No one here knows the truth about us. Nothing in the world can hurt us anymore, thanks to Cal, but I can’t shake this feeling that something is going to happen. Maybe that’s why I keep having this dream; I’m anxious. I have 4 of my loved ones in plain sight but what about the rest of them? Could something have happened to my parents? Max’s? Michael and Maria? Kyle? I just don’t know.

Maybe that’s what Alex and Isabel are trying to tell me in these dreams. Maybe I’m going to have to search for everyone that I love, just to make sure they’re okay. Maybe Alex and Isabel are trying to tell me that I have promises to keep and miles to go before I truly sleep. If only I could figure out what promise I haven’t kept.



“I think we have to go to Roswell,” Liz admitted to Max as she padded across the hardwood floors of their bedroom, climbing into the large four-poster bed, a look of dismay crossing her face as Max wrapped his arms around her.

“What makes you say that?” He pulled her to his bare chest, placing a chaste kiss on the top of her head while she settled against him.

“It’s the dream.”

‘The one about Alex and Iz?” He felt her nod against his chest and wrapped his arms around her tighter. “Same one?”

“They seem so angry, well, not angry,” Liz amended, pulling the cotton sheet across she and Max. “Parental. Like I should know exactly what I haven’t done, but I can’t figure it out. I can’t remember any promises I’ve made that I haven’t kept.”

“Telling Alex the truth,” Max whispered after a moment’s pause, their bodies sinking into their comfortable positions on the mattress. “You promised Jesse you’d tell Alex the truth.”

“He’s five years old, Max,” Liz replied, the shock in her voice unmistakable. “I...there’s no way for me to explain to him about how our lives used to be and Isabel’s death. He’s only five years old,” she repeated for good measure, her voice cracking with emotion. “I don’t think he’d even understand that we’re not his real parents, even though he doesn’t call us Mom and Dad.”

“Maybe you can’t explain it to him. He, Hope and Charlie may never understand. Sometimes when I think about it, I don’t even understand it and if I don’t understand it, how can I explain it to our children. Maybe we can’t tell them,” Max said as he pressed his lips to Liz’s. “Maybe we have to show them.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Roswell, Liz. Everything started in Roswell. It’s safe for us to go there now.” Max paused to stroke Liz’s hair. “Maybe Isabel’s spirit needs to go home. Maybe she wants Alex to know about her life.”

“Are you suggesting that some portion of Isabel is still lingering with me, that she’s haunting me?”

“I don’t know,” Max admitted with a slight shrug. “But something is going on. Something is causing you to have these dreams.”

“They’re not dreams of the future, Max,” Liz argued. “I’m dreaming about things that never happened. They’re just dreams,” she flippantly dismissed, rolling away from Max and onto her right side.

“Dreams that keep you awake at night,” Max reminded her as he settled into the thick mattress, closing his eyes the second his head hit the pillow. Liz shifted to face him almost immediately, an argument on the tip of her tongue but she slowly settled against him, resting her chin on his shoulder.

“So back to Roswell then?” She wrapped her arms around his left arm, her mind reeling at the possibility of going back to Roswell.

“I think we have to, Liz,” Max replied as he placed a kiss on her forehead. “I don’t think we have any other choice.”

[JO]

Part 2


April 29, 2007

Max and I discussed going to Roswell in more detail and we finally agreed that it wouldn’t be a bad idea. I’m fairly certain that Cal completed his programmed task; he wouldn’t have sent Sarina to Roswell had he not wanted to keep an eye on her. Besides, I feel this warming in my heart at the thought of going back to Roswell, a feeling of excitement to see how my childhood town has transformed in my absence.

While part of me is excited to go to Roswell, part of me is hesitant as well. Roswell was my home but New Orleans is my home now. What if, when Max and I arrive in Roswell, we won’t be able to leave again? What if we can’t decide which place is really our home? I would hate to think that these dreams are pushing me toward relocation to Roswell because I love New Orleans; I love the simple, nondescript, easy life I have here. Roswell will always hold a special place in my heart but I’m not Liz Parker anymore. I’m not that timid girl whose world ended at the Roswell city limits. I’m Liz Evans - wife and mother, and my world now encompasses an entire new universe.


Liz stood at the edge of the driveway, Charlie firmly in her arms as Max rushed back and forth from the front porch to their SUV, his arms full of luggage and toys. The sun wasn’t full in the clear sky overhead but the humidity was beginning to flare as evident by the sweat beading on Max’s forehead and the stickiness Liz felt in the armpits of her cotton t-shirt. Max smiled at her just as Mrs. Beaudreux stepped off of her front porch, Hope and Alex following closely behind the elderly neighbor. “We’re almost packed,” Max replied. “Hello, Mrs. Beaudreux.”

“Oh, hello, Max,” the elderly woman called, Hope running across Mrs. Beaudreaux’s yard and their driveways, crashing against her mother’s legs. Liz took a small step backward once her body registered Hope’s impact and she tousled her daughter’s straight brown hair. “Liz, dear, I didn’t mean to hold you up. Hope and Alex were just drinking some fresh made orange juice. I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” Liz said with a smile as she adjusted Charlie in her arms, Hope running back and forth between the magnolia trees that separated the two yards. Liz watched her daughter, her chin-length brown hair flowing off her face as she ran around the trees, gently touching each one with her palm before moving on to the next one. Alex rested his head against Liz’s thigh, and Liz noticed his mood for the first time. “Alex, what’s wrong,” she questioned, Mrs. Beaudreux eager to take Charlie off her hands for a few minutes. Liz stooped to Alex’s level and brushed his dark bangs out of his face.

“Who’s gonna feed my fish?”

“What?”

“My fish,” Alex whimpered again, his lower lip trembling in a way Liz had never seen.

“Oh, honey,” Liz cried, her heart breaking for Alex’s concerns for his pet fish. He had won the orange goldfish at a carnival the previous month by tossing a ping-pong ball into the small goldfish jar. The fish was quickly named Carnival, and Liz and Max taught Alex to care for the goldfish, helping him feed and weekly clean the bowl. Liz had forgotten the young boy and his pet had never been separated for more than several hours. “Carnival will be just fine. We won’t be gone long.”

“I can watch your fish, Alex,” Mrs Beaudreux offered, Liz standing to take Charlie back from her, Alex resting his head against Liz’s leg once more. “If you’d like, I can bring him to my house.”

“He might be scared,” Alex admitted and Liz placed her hand on top of Alex’s head in attempt at comfort.

Mrs. Beaudreux smiled at Liz and bent at the waist, placing her hands on her knees as she tried to look Alex in the eye. “Well, why don’t we bring him over to my house together? That way, you can explain to your fish -”

“Carnival,” Alex interrupted quietly.

“Yes, Carnival. You can explain that I’m going to watch him for a few days so he won’t be lonely. He’ll keep me from being lonely too. And we’ll talk about you the whole time.”

“He can answer back,” Alex questioned, his brown eyes widening each second that passed. Liz laughed to herself because she knew she and Max would have to spend considerable time convincing Alex that animals could not talk to him. “Is that okay,” Alex asked, tipping his head upward to look at Liz.

“If Mrs. Beaudreux doesn’t mind, it’s okay. Why don’t you take her to your room and Max can carry Carnival to Mrs. Beaudreaux’s house?”

“Okay,” Alex said, his somber mood changing before Liz’s eyes. She adjusted Charlie to her right hip, his hands fisting in her hair as she watched Alex take Mrs. Beaudreux by the hand and lead her into their house.

“Wait,” Hope screamed from behind Liz, but before Liz could turn around to see what was wrong, Hope streaked by her, running to Mrs. Beaudreux’s side, taking hold of her free hand. Max stepped out of the front door just as the trio reached it, and Alex held the door open for Max to exit and for Mrs. Beadreaux, Hope and himself to enter.

“That’s the last of it,” Max groaned as he dropped the final three bags of luggage onto the ground beside the rear of the SUV, Liz still watching the front of the house. “Liz? What is it,” he questioned, stepping to her side immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“They love her,” Liz whispered, her face still watching the front door even though she knew Alex, Hope and Mrs. Beaudreux were in Alex’s room, Hope’s face almost plastered to the side of Carnival’s goldfish bowl. “Alex and Hope love Mrs. Beaudreux.”

“Of course they do,” Max replied with a shrug, playing ‘peep-eye’ with Charlie using Liz’s body as a barrier. “Mrs. Beaudreux is great with our kids. She loves them just as much as they love her. Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“No,” Liz said just as Charlie lurched over her shoulder at his father, taking his handfuls of her hair with him. She felt several small pops when Max disentangled Charlie from her and Liz rolled her eyes as she saw numerous strands of her hair sticking out from both of Charlie’s tiny fists. “And you wonder why I don’t wear earrings,” Liz mused, opening Charlie’s fists to wipe them clean of her hair as Max blew air onto Charlie’s cheek.

“He just likes brunettes,” Max replied, Charlie’s chubby arms reaching upward for his father’s nose. “I happen to agree with him. The boy has good taste.” Liz playfully swatted Max on the shoulder as he leaned in to kiss her. Liz accepted the kiss with a smile and kept the smile once Max pulled away.

“Do you think we’re making the right decision,” Liz questioned, Alex and Hope emerging from the house, followed by Mrs. Beaudreaux carrying Carnival very slowly. “Going to Roswell, I mean?”

“I think we owe it to ourselves to find out. And we have them to think about. Roswell is our home, Liz. It’s part of our history and why we became the people we are. Don’t you want our kids to learn about that?”

“Of course I do,” she refuted. “It’s just....I’m scared, and I haven’t been scared in a very long time.”

“Then we’ll be scared together,” Max replied, kissing her quickly once again while passing Charlie to her. She cradled Charlie against her chest and watched Max ran to the front porch to help carry Carnival across the two yards into Mrs. Beaudreux’s house.

[JO]

Part 3


May 2, 2007

We’ve taken our time in the journey from New Orleans back to Roswell. We aren’t in any real hurry but some part of me feels like we shouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, that our return will be more memorable because it’s the anniversary of Alex’s death. Max has driven most of the way, I guess to leave me alone with my thoughts; I’ve been reading Robert Frost. I never imagined one author could so adequately describe, without actually being inside my head, what it feels like to be me. It’s almost as if I can close this tattered paperback volume Max gave me for our first wedding anniversary, open it to any page, and find some passage to comfort my hurting heart. I’ve heard the same can be said about the Bible. It’s not that I’m not religious or don’t believe in God. Robert Frost just affects me on a more personal level.


“Are we here,” Alex asked in a mock whisper from the back seat, the SUV slowing to a halt. Liz closed her journal and placed it between the middle console and her seat then turned her head to look at Alex, Hope and Charlie. She was surprised to find all three of them still secure in their car seats, and all three of them wide awake.

“Why aren’t you guys asleep,” Liz playfully questioned as Max exited the car. “You should be asleep. It’s late.”

“Too excited,” Hope squealed, clapping her hands together wildly. Liz winced at the volume of her daughter’s voice and glanced out of the side window at Max, who had also heard Hope’s squeal. Charlie jabbered indistinguishable words and matched the tempo of Hope’s claps with claps of his own. Alex bounced up and down in the car seat.

“When did you eat sugar?” Liz unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed between the front bucket seats. She moved several of their favorite toys around the floorboard and, after finding no candy wrappers, she straightened and stared at her children. “Why are you so hyper? You need to go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Alex questioned, his brown eyes wide in excitement. Alex and Hope bent forward and looked at each other across Charlie’s car seat then surprised Liz by burrowing low into their respective car seats and closing their eyes. Liz looked at Charlie, entertaining himself by gnawing on his fists.

“What the hell,” she mumbled as Max returned to the car, a confused look on her face. Max looked over his right shoulder at the backseat.

“They’re asleep? Didn’t I hear Hope squeal?”

“She did squeal. They looked at each other then closed their eyes because I told them we had a big day tomorrow.” Liz turned front and buckled her seatbelt. “And now they’re asleep.”

“Hmph,” Max replied, cranking the engine and putting the SUV into drive. He released the break slowly but the car still jerked forward as he pressed the accelerator. “Maybe they understand that tomorrow is an important day.”

“Maybe,” Liz agreed, staring out the passenger side window. “But how could they know that? I just told them we had a big day tomorrow. I didn’t told them anything else. They would have to be extremely intuitive -”

“You raised them, didn’t you,” Max interrupted and Liz turned to face Max instantly. Max glanced at her momentarily then smiled. “Alex isn’t biologically our child, Liz, but he’s as much like you as Hope or Charlie. They’re smart, all three of them are very smart.”


I wanted to argue with Max, that Alex and Hope and Charlie were too young to know the inner workings of my mind and definitely too young to understand them. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe these exceptional children did understand and maybe they would help me as I confronted my past. Maybe their presence would comfort me in ways Robert Frost and his magic healing words couldn’t, and maybe, just maybe, their presence in my life would help me to move forward.

* * *


May 3, 2007

I woke with a lump in my throat. Nothing cancerous, just a lump of emotion that had the entire night to fester. When that kind of emotion takes over, there has to be a release. I just don’t know when or where the release will happen.

Max drove very slowly down Main Street, mainly I think for our benefit. Roswell was our home and I’d like to think Max wanted to savor the moment of our return as long as possible before we visited Alex’s grave and the emotions of the past rushed back in. I pressed my face to the pane like a wide-eyed child -- Roswell looked the same, exactly the same. Immediately, Robert Frost came to mind:

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

Driving down Main Street past the hardware store, the UFO museum and the Crashdown, my doubts were suddenly lifted. There is no place I’d rather be and no one except Max I’d rather have shared these experiences with. Roswell isn’t who I am any longer; just like Max said it’s my past, our past, but it is a past I wouldn’t exchange given the opportunity. Everything I experienced in Roswell helped to shape me, and my life is greater and richer for the experiences both good and bad. My heart doesn’t feel heavy any more. I’m breathing easier and I think I’m ready to see those I’ve left behind.

[JO]

Part 4


“Can you believe it’s been five years since we’ve been back,” Max asked, Charlie in his arms, Hope tugging furiously on his pants leg as she stood between he and Liz. “It doesn’t seem that long.” Liz held tightly to Max’s hand with her left and Alex’s with her right. The only response she could make to Max’s statement was to squeeze Max’s hand tightly as the lump of emotion shifted in her throat. Tears inched down her face as they stood at the head of Alex Whitman’s grave.

“His name is Alex,” Alex shouted, his brown eyes wide as he looked up at Max and Liz. “Just like me.” He smiled brightly at Liz, releasing her hand and stooping onto the grave marker, reverently tracing the bronzed letters of Alex’s name.


May 3, 2007

That’s when I couldn’t take it any more. I had found my release, my breaking point for this unshed emotion. I spun away from Alex’s grave and my family, knowing my choppy movements had scared Max and the children. I didn’t care. I was suffocating. I’d hit a brick wall and I was the one that had to move. So I abandoned them at Alex’s grave and, after turning my back on my children and husband, I cried. I cried in a way I hadn’t in almost six years. I cried without reservation or control. My entire body ached - my soul ached - and I dropped to my knees on the dewy ground, hoping to alleviate some of the pain, but nothing helped me. Nothing would make this pain go away.

I remember the last time that I had cried as hard - it was the night I had turned the cafe into my own private Alex C. Whitman memorabilia party. The night I had finally come to the realization that my friend was gone forever, that we would never dance together or laugh together or eat together or grow up and old together, that all I would ever have from that moment until I died would be my memories. I was so certain that night I would never survive the pain and the horror of living my life without Alex. I couldn’t even imagine it. Sometimes now, six years later, I wonder about Alex and if he’s okay. I can’t stop myself. It’s like my mind momentarily forgets he’s really gone and not just absent from my life. Alex was the closest thing I had to a brother. He defended me; he taught me; he protected me but most importantly, he loved me. And I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I loved and would always love him.



“Mommy, you otay,” Hope asked, leaning her entire body against Liz’s shoulder. Liz jerked at the sound of her daughter’s voice but quickly recovered, not wanting to scare Hope any more than she had already. Liz sniffed loudly and wiped her face, pulling Hope into her arms. “Mommy cryin’,” Hope whispered, placing the palms of her hands onto Liz’s cheeks. Liz smiled slightly and Hope pressed her hands more firmly onto Liz’s cheeks, making Liz’s face scrunch into a Picasso-esque picture. “Now Mommy smilin’,” Hope said with a giggle. “I like Mommy’s smile.”

“And I like yours, sweetie pie,” Liz said, blowing air onto Hope’s neck, prompting the little girl to giggle in delight. Sweeping her daughter into her arms while continuing to assault her face and neck with air, Liz turned back toward Max. Hope clung to Liz’s neck and over the top of her daughter’s bobbing head, Liz noticed that all three of the men in her life were stooped close to Alex’s grave marker. Tiny Charlie, looking almost identical to Max with his dark hair, amber eyes and the hidden dimples in his cheeks, sat beside his father’s left foot, his baby hands eagerly pulling up patches of grass and depositing them into his lap. Alex on his hands and knees on Max’s right side, carefully patting the bronze grave marker. Liz paused momentarily, wishing not for the first time that her mind’s eye were a camera so she could photograph the precious scene and frame it in the hallway of their home. Instead, she simply stepped closer to her family, Hope firmly ensconced in her arms, and committed the pseudo-photograph to memory, filing in within the photo album of her mind.

“Mommy’s otay,” Hope said with a yawn as she dropped her head on Liz’s shoulders. The three Evans males turned toward Liz on cue and Liz was presented with an identical smile from each of them. She felt her heart swell with love and silently chided herself not to cry as she dropped to her knees beside Max and Alex. The second her feet hit the ground, Hope wriggled herself in between Liz, Max and Alex, plopping her tiny bottom on the grassy patch in front of the grave marker. Charlie began a series of baby jabbers and crawled behind his father into his mother’s lap. Liz promptly kissed the top of his head and was rewarded with a slobbery kiss on her hand as Charlie pulled her left hand into his mouth to teethe.

“What have you been telling these boys,” Liz mused, settling herself onto the ground as Max reclined backwards, Hope firmly planting herself in his lap once he was comfortable. “All about Alex?”

“Like me,” Alex said again, the inflection in his voice showing the same emotion as it had when he first discovered that he and Liz’s friend shared a name. “Pop said they was friends.” Liz felt her eyes mist with tears watching Alex carefully trace the bronzed letters that spelled Whitman. “Why’d he die,” the toddler questioned, his voice laced with sadness and Liz prayed for the strength to be able to tell Alex the entire truth about his namesake and everything that had happened in Roswell.

[JO]

Make sure you go to the first page to see the beautiful banner made for me by Blanca. It's quite lovely!!

Happy 4th of July!!!!


JO

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Part 5

“Come here,” Liz said to Alex as she adjusted her legs into an Indian-style seating position, grabbing Alex’s arm. Once she was settled, Alex happily dropped into her lap and began rubbing the fingernail of her ring finger. It was a habit he had acquired at an early age, and every night when Liz appeared in his room to tuck him in, Alex held fast to her finger, rubbing the nail until he fell asleep. “A long time ago, -”

“Before I was born,” Alex questioned.

“Yes.”

“Before I was born,” Hope questioned as she sat up on her knees between Max and Liz.

“Yes, sweetie pie.”

“What ‘bout before Chawee,” Hope continued, thumbing over her shoulder at her younger brother, sleeping in Max’s lap. Liz stared at Max over the top of Alex’s head, a frustrated look on her face. Max, however, bit his lips to stifle a grin, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes.

“Yes, before Charlie too,” Liz replied after a moments pause. “Do you know where we are? We’re in Roswell. Max and I lived here. This was where we grew up and went to school. This is where we met.”

“Wow,” Hope whispered in amazement and Liz couldn’t help but smile at her daughter.

“And Alex,” Liz continued, focusing her attention back to the grave marker. “Alex became one of my very best friends when I was eleven years old.”

“Why’d he die,” Alex asked as he tilted his head up to look at Liz. “Was he mean?”

“Mean? Oh, no. Alex was the nicest boy in the whole wide world. He was good and kind and funny. He used to make me laugh until my stomach hurt. One time, he twisted his body into a pretzel.” Liz laughed as the memory flashed through her mind. Alex had twisted himself into a pretzel, intertwining his double-jointed arms and legs on a dare then had been unable to disentangle himself, leaving Liz and Maria to come to his rescue. “Maria and I had to help him because he got stuck.”

“I remember that,” Max replied in a low voice, adjusting Charlie slightly in his lap.

“How’d he get stuck, Mommy,” Hope questioned as she moved closer to Liz by walking on her knees. “Show me.” Her dark eyes were wide in anticipation, a tiny half-smile on her mouth.

“Yeah,” Alex pressed. “Show us. Show us.”

“Well, I can’t. I don’t bend that way.” She straightened her arms and laced her fingers together, criss-crossing her wrists, then pulled her hands back toward her chest. “This is all I can do.”

“Wow,” Hope said, quickly touching Liz’s interlocked fingers then withdrawing her hand just as quickly as she covered her mouth to hide her giggle.

“But he was nice,” Alex questioned as Hope’s giggles wound down, the little girl flopping onto her stomach between Max and Liz. “Alex was nice?”

“Oh, he was very nice,” Liz said as she dropped her arms around Alex’s shoulders, “and I miss him very, very much.”

“Was he sick? Is that why he died?”

“Did Awex go t’heaven, Mommy?”


How do you explain death to a toddler? Is there an adequate description that their tiny minds can understand, especially when the person explaining doesn’t even understand? I don’t know why Alex had to die. I don’t know why Tess felt there as no other choice but to use Alex for her twisted purposes, and I feel remorse every day that I couldn’t do anything to save him. I feel the same remorse for Isabel; that I couldn’t get to her or bring Max to her and that she’s being robbed of watching her son grow up. Is there anything you can say that makes a loss any less of a loss?


“Alex wasn’t sick,” Liz continued after allowing herself several seconds to blink back tears. “He was in an accident. Someone...hurt him and he died.”

“He got hurt bad?”

“Yes, baby,” Liz whispered as she kissed the top of Alex’s head. “Someone hurt him bad.” Max reached for Liz and she eagerly took hold of his hand, their fingers intertwining instantly as several tears dripped down Liz’s cheeks.

“No cryin’,” Hope said. Standing to her feet, she placed her hands on Liz’s cheeks, patting them with her palms as she had when they had first arrived at the cemetery. “Happy Mommy.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against Liz’s cheek, making a loud smacking sound as she moved away, prompting more giggles.

“Thank you, sweetie pie, and I do think Alex is in heaven. I think he’s very happy and telling jokes and making everyone laugh. I bet he’s watching us right now.” Hope inhaled sharply and turned her face toward the sky.

“What’s wrong Hope,” Max questioned as he tugged on Hope’s small hand.

“Hi Awex. Hi.” Hope said, waiving wildly with her left hand while Max gently tugged on her right. “Did Awex see me, Mommy?” Hope turned her face toward Liz, her entire face lit up and a big smile crested across her lips. “Did Awex see?”

“I’m sure he did,” Liz replied as she reached for Hope, unable to control the tears that slipped down her cheeks. “And I know he loved it. I bet he and Isabel are talking about you too right now.”

“Isabew? Wike me?”

“Is Isabel my real mommy,” Alex questioned, absently playing with his fingers as he curled his face toward his chin.

Liz glanced at Max for a split second before brushing her palm over Alex’s forehead, pulling his long hair out of his face. She pursed her lips in thought and after several seconds, placed a gentle kiss on Alex’s forehead. “Isabel was your mommy. She and Max were brother and sister.”

“Wike me and Chawee,” Hope offered, a wide smile on her face as she pounced beside Liz.

“That’s right, like Hope and Charlie.”

“Did she not love me,” Alex continued, his voice small.

“Your mommy loved you very, very much, Alex Evans. Don’t you think for one minute she didn’t love you. She loved you so very, very much.”

“This much,” Hope questioned as she held her hands shoulder width apart. Liz winked at her as Max tugged playfully on her floral skirt, causing Hope to fall onto her bottom on the ground with her typical dramatic flare.

“Sometimes, Alex,” Liz began but paused when she felt her lower lip quiver. She cleared her throat immediately, feeling Alex’s dark brown eyes watching her every move, and gave him a small smile. “Sometimes, God needs people more than we need them.”

“To be angels.”

“That’s right. See, there are so many of us that God loves, it’s hard for him to keep up so sometimes he needs to take the most special and wonderful people away from us so they can help him.”

“Like my real mommy and Alex?” Liz could only nod in response, her emotions threatening to expose themselves for the second time since their arrival in Roswell. “But you and Max loved them and they would love Hope and me?”

“They’d love you two very much,” Max offered as Charlie stirred in his lap and Liz smiled her thanks when Max said the words she couldn’t. “There are lots of people here that love you, even if you don’t know them.”

“He’s right,” a voice from the past echoed from behind them and Alex jumped up from Liz’s lap immediately, he and Hope hovering beside Max.

“Kyle?”

“That was a great story,” Kyle replied as he inched himself closer to Alex’s grave, pulling a small bundle of wildflowers from behind his back. He barely had time to blink before Liz was in his arms, her movements such a jolt to his system that they almost fell off balance and onto the ground.

[JO]

Part 6


I threw myself into Kyle’s arms. It was as if I’d never been so happy to see someone in my entire life. I think it threw him a little bit because the Kyle I knew wasn’t overly emotional but I couldn’t control it. I had never been so happy to see Kyle and so relieved at the same time. It was as if the longer we stayed in Roswell, the more confirmation I’d have that everyone I’d left behind was safe and sound and maybe I could put to rest any remaining fears I had.


“Good to see you too, Liz,” Kyle said as Liz’s arms tightened around his neck, almost to the point of choking. “Evans been teaching you wrestling moves?”

“No,” Liz replied, confusion obvious on her face, as she released Kyle and stepped backward toward Max and the kids. “Why?”

“That’s some hold,” Kyle mused while rubbing his throat. “I thought I was a goner for a minute.”

“Oh,” Liz said in frustration and she dropped her hands onto her hips. “I was just glad to see you, Kyle, and surprised.”

“Still,” Kyle continued with a shrug, “don’t hug me good-bye when you leave.” He paused for a split second, long enough to look over Liz’s shoulder at Max and the kids. “Or are you here for good?”

“I’ve been having dreams again,” she broke off, surprised when Kyle was at her side at once, his hand carefully placed in the small of her back.

“Are you okay? What are the dreams about?”



That was one of the things I loved about Kyle. He could make a tense moment light with some off the wall comment, almost like Alex could but not quite as funny as Alex had been. But Kyle was first and foremost a friend. He had never failed me when the chips were down, and I am so thankful to have friends like that.


“I’m okay,” Liz replied with a tight smile. “They aren’t dreams about the future. They’re dreams about things that never happened. It’s mainly about Alex and Isabel.”

“So you came back to Roswell?”

Liz nodded. “Just for a little while, just to see what happens.”

“Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back,” Kyle replied in a low voice, his attention focused on the ground at Liz’s feet.

“You know Frost?”

Kyle gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Blame it on Alex.” He nodded with his head toward Alex’s grave marker. “Miles to go and all that. You know what I mean. Hey, Max.”

“Kyle,” Max replied as he looped his arm around Liz’s waist. Liz smiled slightly as she thought of Max and Kyle in a mock stand-off over possession of her but shook the thought away when she realized that Max no longer felt threatened by Kyle; Max was simply offering her comfort as he had done every day since their new lives began.

“Yeah,” Liz replied as she shook her head in agreement. “I know exactly what you mean.” Max shifted his weight beside her, their connection sparking to life as Hope reaching feverishly for her hands, Alex standing shyly between she and Max, using them as a barrier to Kyle. “I’d never imagined....you...would come here.”

Kyle shrugged again as he stepped around the small family, bending to place the bouquet of flowers on the grave marker. Liz and Max exchanged a quick glance as Kyle closed his eyes for several seconds then patted the grave marker twice before standing up. “Me neither, you know, especially after what I did -”

“Kyle -”

“But I figured I owed it to him. I at least owed it to Isabel.” He turned and looked at the grave one final time before stepping closer to Max and Liz. “Plus today is my daughter’s birthday.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yep,” Kyle smiled, his fatherly pride showing through, and Liz and Max couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. “I’ve been coming here every day since she was born.”

“How old is she,” Max questioned.

“She’s three, and she has a baby brother on the way.”

“Oh, Kyle, congratulations,” Liz said as she swept her arms around Kyle’s neck once again. “What’s her name?”

“Bella.”

“That’s a nice name,” Max offered. “I’m sure Isabel would have loved it.”

Kyle nodded in agreement. “It’s the least I could do, especially since I met her mom because of Isabel.”

“Are you....are you married,” Liz questioned. “Did you marry someone from high school?”

“No, she’s not from around here.”

“Who is she, Kyle?”

“You know her.”

“Oh,” Liz sighed. “It could be anybody.” She paused to scoop Hope into her arms. “As long as it’s not Pam Troy, I’ll be extremely happy for you.”

“It’s not Pam Troy,” Kyle corrected with a laugh. “Pam Troy is long gone from Roswell. I heard she was in Hollywood. No one is really anxious to find out the real truth or go looking for her. But you’d remember Bella’s mom if you saw her. I know she’d like to see you again.”

“If it’s your daughter’s birthday, I wouldn’t want to intrude. Birthdays are for families.”

“You’re family, Liz,” Kyle replied as he pinched Hope’s cheek, prompting her to giggle loudly. “Besides, we have a party every year at the Crashdown. Everyone will be there.”

“Everyone,” Max questioned, glancing at Liz for a second as they began to walk with Kyle toward his car. “Who is everyone?”

“Dad, Amy, all of your parents, Michael, Maria -”

“So you do mean everyone,” Liz said while adjusting Hope on her hip.

“Yeah,” Kyle continued. “You should come. Michael and Maria are in town for the festival and Bella’s birthday. They live in L. A. part of the year and New York the other half. And I know your parents would love to see you and meet...” He indicated the three Evans children.

“I bet you’d like to meet them too,” Liz replied. “Sorry. This is Charlie,” she said, indicating the youngest of her children first. “And this is Hope, Isabel Hope, but I think you two already met.” Kyle tweaked Hope’s nose and Hope giggled in response. “And this,” Liz continued, stepping away from Alex so Kyle could actually see his face, “this is Alex.”

“Isabel’s....Alex?”

“Yeah,” Liz said as she dropped Hope to her feet and smoothed Alex’s mussed hair. “This is Isabel’s Alex.”

“He...he looks...,” Kyle began as he smiled at Isabel’s son then quickly looked up to Max and Liz. “He looks just like her.”

“I think so too,” Max replied as Liz took Charlie from him and he helped Hope climb onto his back. “So you think we should go to the party?”

“Definitely. The Crashdown is closed today which isn’t really good for business because of the festival but Mr. Parker insists -”

“What festival are you talking about, Kyle,” Liz questioned as they neared their respective vehicles. “The Crash Festival isn’t this early, unless it’s been moved forward. I can’t think of another festival.”

“This festival is pretty young, about five years old or so. Come to the party and I’ll tell you all about it.” He offered Hope a wink as Max helped Alex and Hope into the backseat of their SUV, Liz waiting until they were settled to place Charlie in his car seat.

“Does this new festival have a name? I didn’t see any banners or unusual foot traffic on the streets like for the Crash Festival.”

“Oh, it’s nothing like the Crash Festival. It’s called the Miles To Go Festival in honor of a movie that was filmed here. It’s much more subdued than the Crash Festival, mainly locals and some of the movie’s stars come back. There’s a yearly showing at the old Rialto.”

“Who filmed the movie,” Liz pressed, handing Charlie to Max as Kyle closed the door of his blue pick-up truck.

“I can’t remember who filmed it, some nobody, I don’t know. I do remember who produced it though. I think he actually wrote most of it.”

“Who was that?”

“Cal Langley.”

[JO]

Sorry for the big delay. I think I had a nasty case of writers' block.



Part 7


“Do you know what happened the last time Cal came to Roswell to film a movie,” Liz asked Max as they followed Kyle away from the cemetery and toward the Crashdown.

“I remember,” Max replied, turning slightly to look at Liz. “And my face seems to remember it too.” He absently ran his palm up and down his cheek.

“Max.”

“Someone was murdered,” Max amended as he turned his eyes back to the road, his right hand expertly finding Liz’s hand. “I know.”

“It could have been anybody. He could have hurt anyone while he was here. I mean, everyone we loved could have been in danger.”

“But hasn’t Langley changed? Didn’t you think he’d changed during the time you two spent together? He wouldn’t have given us a house and money had he not changed his opinion of us, well, maybe just his opinion of you.”

“Yes,” Liz agreed as they pulled into a parking space in front of the UFO Museum, she giving Max’s hand a final squeeze. “He was different the longer we were together. It just scares me, you know. It’s unexpected.”

“I know.” Max turned off the ignition and unbuckled his seat belt, his hands now on the door handle, ready to exit the SUV.

“And I want to know what kind of movie it was,” Liz continued as she and Max exited the SUV, their movements identical as they unlocked the back doors to get Alex, Hope and Charlie out of their car seats. “Roswell isn’t known for very many things.”

“Other than aliens,” Max mused as he unbuckled Hope from her car seat. He winked at Liz, pulling Hope into his arms before closing the door.

“You don’t think it was a movie about aliens, do you,” Liz questioned once Max was beside her, Alex standing between she and Max as Liz reached for the middle of the back seat to retrieve Charlie from his car seat. “Why would Cal make a movie about aliens? Isn’t that hitting a little too close to home?”

“The Langley I knew would do anything to protect his secret. I don’t see him making a movie about a producer in Hollywood that is really a shape-shifter alien protector from another galaxy. Now we’re just being paranoid,” Max offered, kissing Liz on the temple as Kyle stepped toward them with a wide smile on his face.



I can’t imagine what Cal Langley would be doing filming a movie in Roswell. The last Roswell movie he was a part of became a murder mystery, which makes my heart hurt just thinking that our loved ones were so close to danger. I guess it’s a good thing that my brain is preoccupied with finding out those details about Cal’s movie because if I weren’t so focused on that, I would be anxious and nervous about seeing my parents again for the first time in over five years.



“I…I don’t think I can do this,” Liz admitted once Kyle was within conversation distance, the flashing neon of the spaceship imbedding in the front of her childhood home directly behind. She huddled closer to Max and felt Alex wind his arms around her thighs. She wondered briefly if he could feel her energy, if he knew how scared she was, but Kyle’s gentle voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Don’t do this, Liz. Are you going to let her do this, Max?”

“I have little to no control in this situation,” Max admitted while adjusting Hope to his other hip, the small girl looking tired as she rested her head on her father’s shoulder.

Kyle exhaled and stepped closer to Liz, so close that their noses almost touched. “You’re being a baby,” Kyle sighed.

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re here, everyone is there,” Kyle said as he pointed across the street toward the Crashdown. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m scared,” Liz admitted and tears filled her eyes again. “This is a hard step to take, Kyle.”

“And you’ve taken the beginning of a step, Liz, just put the rest of your goddamn foot down on the ground. Sorry.” He playfully tweaked Hope’s nose and placed his palm on the top of Alex’s head in response to his colorful language.

Liz felt her face contort into a kind of shocked expression, one she could tell she never wanted to see in a mirror. Charlie tugged on a fistful of hair, Alex still clinging to her leg but Liz couldn’t think about her children; she could only think about the challenge Kyle Valenti had just issued to her.

“Are you daring me to walk across the street? You’re daring me?”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” Kyle began as he stepped out of Liz’s face, sweeping his arms outward while stepping beside Max. “Fine. Call it a dare.”

Liz looked away from Kyle to Max, the same shocked expression from moments before back on her face. “He’s daring me,” she exhaled, as if Max had not been present for the entire conversation.

“I see that. What are you going to about it?”

“Oh,” Liz continued just as Charlie stuffed portions of her hair into his mouth. “Now you’re daring me too.”

“No, Liz,” Max said with a smile as he leaned close to her, allowing his lips to dance down her cheek for several seconds. “I’m not daring you. I’m here to support you. You decide what you want to do, and I’ll just follow your lead.”


I took my eyes off Max, thankful once again for whatever force had brought us together. He had always been there to support me and I loved him so much in that moment when I clearly needed him the most. The flashing neon spaceship caught my eye and I focused on it, almost to the point of limiting my vision solely to it. Somehow, it looked brighter than I’d remembered, bigger even, and my house, my balcony looked smaller. Roswell was still inside me. I’m still that smallest of small town girls. Only now, that girl is lingering behind a wife, a woman, a mother. The tiniest speck of doubt bubbled up just at that moment: how would my parents react to all this change, especially with what they now knew about Max, and who and what he really was. Would they accept me and our children? Would they love me, despite who and what I now am?

As I turned back to Kyle and Max, a passage from Robert Frost flashed through my mind:

They would not find me changed from him they knew –
Only more sure of all I thought was true

And with my eyes clearly focused on Max, I took that step.

[JO]

Author's Note: Apologies for the long delay. This is a crucial part of the story (I think) and it just hasn't been working for me. I think I've figured it out. If you want to know what else I've been doing, read Terminus or Intersection


Enjoy!!


JO

________________________________


Part 8


We filtered into the Crashdown through the back door. It had been so long since I had done that, I felt like I was sneaking in from a late-night (and unapproved) date with Max. Alex’s nose pressed against the back of my thigh when I paused just inches away from the swinging door. Kyle pushed through without knowing we had not followed him, and I heard the cheerful voices of my parents, Max’s parents, Maria, Michael, Amy DeLuca and Jim Valenti sound his arrival.

Nothing was stopping me from stepping through that door. I remember each time I’d done it beginning with my earliest childhood memory to the final time before I’d left Roswell. Nothing was holding me back except fear.

Part of me was angry with myself for my fear. These were my parents, after all; they knew the entire truth about Max and my relationship with him, especially if they had read my journal. I kept no secrets from them about that. The only secrets between us would be my children and it was the reaction to my children, our children, that I think I really feared. I had changed so much in my time away from Roswell and I was afraid they wouldn’t recognize me as their daughter anymore; that instead, they’d see me, my children and my husband as strangers.

Once again at a crucial moment of self-doubt, Max was at my side and together, hand in hand with our children in our arms, we crossed the threshold into the café.


Liz slowly opened her eyes, unsure when she had closed them during their short jaunt from the back room to the café. The café looked different to her, like she was stepping directly into a piece of nostalgia. Had it looked like this before, she wondered to herself as her eyes danced around the room. She was surprised their arrival hadn’t been noticed but in the center of the dining area, Liz saw a small, dark-haired girl she assumed was Bella holding up a pair of pink flip-flops for everyone to see.

“I hope you like them, kiddo,” Maria said as the small girl removed herself from Maria’s arms. “They were pink and I know how much you like pink.” Liz stared at Maria once her friend straightened her posture and leaned backwards against the chair beside Michael, her eyes misting at the sight of Maria’s swollen stomach.

“I love flip-flops,” Bella squealed as she jumped up and down in front of Jim Valenti. “Flip-flops, Papaw. Look!”

“I see them, punkin,” Jim replied, taking Bella’s flip-flops into his hands. “But what if we make them purple.” Liz’s eyes widened as Jim changed the color of the flip-flops from bright pink into a deep purple. She looked over her shoulder at Max, having forgotten that Max had healed Jim in the Meta-Chem plant. Instead of worry etched on Max’s face, he showed his approval with a small smile, and Liz instantly felt better.

“What about blue,” Kyle chimed in, motioning for Jim to throw the flip-flops to him. Bella ran from Jim to Kyle as Kyle changed the deep purple to sky blue.

“Kyle,” a dark-haired woman admonished and Kyle quickly changed the flip-flops back to pink, presenting them to Bella with a flourish. Liz’s ears perked at the woman’s voice, knowing she had heard it somewhere before but she couldn’t place it.

“How would you like to meet some of Daddy’s friends, Bella,” Kyle questioned, looking over his shoulder directly at Liz. She froze in place until Maria’s shocked squeal made their return real.

“Oh my God,” Maria stood up from her chair so abruptly, it toppled backwards onto the floor.

“Liz? Is that you?”

“Max, honey. You’re home.”


Before I knew it, Max, the children and I were surround by three sets of parents, Amy DeLuca and Jim Valenti included. Charlie was pulled out of my arms; in turn, the five of us were enfolded into so many pairs of arms, I lost count. Through the crowd, I heard someone call my name and as I felt Maria’s arms wrap around me for the third time, the familiar voice came into focus as the woman that had sent us fleeing Las Vegas in a panic: Sarina Zachary.


“Liz,” Kyle called from the middle of the café, his left arm thrown comfortably atop Sarina’s shoulders. “You remember Sarina, don’t you?” Liz delicately removed herself from Maria’s arms, the unsuspecting Hope now in Maria’s direct line of sight, and stepped toward Kyle and Sarina. Her eyes widened once she noticed the swell of Sarina’s stomach, slightly larger than Maria’s proud paunch.

“Hello, Sarina,” Liz said, attempting to make the surprise in her voice less evident. In all the ways she had imagined seeing Sarina again, pregnant certainly had not been an option. Sarina smiled brightly, her hands resting on her stomach and Liz thought she had never seen a pregnant woman look more beautiful. “You look wonderful.”

“Doesn’t she,” Kyle commented as he placed a tiny kiss on Sarina’s temple. “I keep telling her the same thing. She just doesn’t believe me.”

“It’s hard to feel beautiful when you’re as big as a house and your insides are mush. This little guy is going to be an excellent field goal kicker.” Sarina lovingly rubbed her stomach, Kyle’s hand dropping to match her circular motion and Liz’s eyes widened as the pieces finally fell into place in her mind.

“You’re Kyle’s wife.”

“So you tell me I look wonderful yet you’re ashamed me? Oh, I see,” Sarina mused, nudging Kyle expertly in his ribcage.

“Do you think I’m going to let Liz just show up without doing something to keep her on her toes?” Kyle blocked Sarina’s attempt to elbow him again, his eyes bright with mischief. “Clearly, you don’t know the man you’re married to.” Pressing his lips to hers before she could protest, Kyle winked at Sarina as he abandoned she and Liz in the center of the café.

“Oh, he’s so damn frustrating,” Liz sighed as they watched Kyle hoist Bella, Hope and Alex onto the countertop close to Bella’s birthday cake. “I think he’s gotten worse in his old age.”

“One hell of a kisser though,” Sarina said with a laugh, patting her stomach. “That makes up for those world-famous Valenti smart ass remarks.”

“It’s been a few years. I’ll just take your word on that.” Liz smiled at Sarina, hopeful when she saw Sarina smiling back.

“He has changed, Liz. I think all of us have. You can’t go through something so traumatic without changing.” Sarina sighed deeply, turning her attention to Kyle and Bella. “He’s totally devoted to Bella though and we’re very lucky to have her. This little guy too.” She patted her stomach and placed her hands in the small of her back. “So are you here for a visit or to stay?”

“I’m not sure,” Liz replied honestly, the two women turning toward the countertop as Kyle and Jim began to light Bella’s birthday came. “I think I still have some ghosts left to bury.”

Sarina nodded her head and Liz felt as if Sarina understood her evasive answer perfectly. “Old memories are like that. They just pop up whenever the need strikes, without warning and sometimes without restraint.” Sarina looped her arm around Liz’s waist as the café lights dimmed, the glow from Bella’s three candles giving a faint light. “Well, for what it’s worth, welcome home, Liz.”

[JO]

Part 9

It took three attempts for Bella to successfully blow out the candles on her cake but cheers and claps echoed through the café as the final candle flickered to its death. Bella glanced over her shoulder, surprising Liz with a glimpse of that unmistakable look of mischief in her blue-gray eyes. Kyle pressed his lips to Bella’s neck and blew, the stream of air prompting Bella’s laughter. Liz watched as Hope and Alex attached themselves to Bella’s side once Kyle deposited them onto the floor from their perch on the countertop. Their excitement was contagious as Amy began passing around plates heaped with cake and ice cream, Charlie crawling back and forth between Max and Liz until Maria quickly scooped him into her arms.

“Hey there, little man,” Maria cooed as she placed Charlie on Michael’s lap and stooped to his level. “You can tell he’s yours, Liz. Look at those cheeks! Preciosita tan linda!”

Liz laughed, Max draping his arm across the back of her chair. “Thanks, Maria.” She watched as Maria continued to make faces at Charlie, all to Charlie’s amusement. “Do you know what you’re having,” she asked, pointing to Maria’s stomach as Amy sat a plate full of cake in her lap.

“Well,” Maria replied as she leaned back against the chair. “Michael thinks it will be a boy but I’m pretty sure she’s a girl.”

“It’s a boy,” Michael replied, bouncing Charlie up and down on his knee, an air of certainty in his voice.

“We’ll see, Spaceboy. I’m planning on a girl so I’ve only picked out girl names. If it’s a boy, he’ll just have to be named Sue or something equally girly.”

“You’ll think of a name, Maria,” Sarina said, her hands creeping across her stomach in a circular motion. “It’s easy.”

“What is his name going to be,” Liz questioned, turning her attention to the other pregnant woman in the room.

“Zachary Kyle Valenti. Kyle knew immediately he would be a boy, and that Bella would be a girl. I’ve never planned on having a girl,” Sarina admitted with a shrug. “What about you, Liz? Did you know what Hope and Charlie would be before they were born?”

“I knew about Hope,” Liz replied as she lowered her head to her lap. “I had dreams about she and Alex as children but Charlie was a bit of a surprise.”

“But what a wonderful surprise,” Nancy said with a smile, she and Jeff appearing at Michael’s side. Charlie beamed in response to the attention as Nancy pressed a kiss to Charlie’s forehead.

“Max,” Diane began, her eyes focused on Alex as he, Hope and Bella played with some of Bella’s birthday presents. “Can we speak to you, to you and Liz?”

“Sure, Mom,” Max replied as he stood from the chair, his hand automatically reaching for Liz.

“We’ll go upstairs where we can talk.” Liz opened her mouth to ask what would happen to Alex, Hope and Charlie while she and Max talked with their parents but her mother seemed to predict the question before Liz asked it. “It’s okay if Alex, Hope and Charlie stay here. They’re in good hands.” Nancy smiled warmly at Liz and the six adults left the café on their way to the Parker apartment upstairs.

* * *

Liz and Max sat side by side on the couch in the Parker living room. Liz tried to keep her attention focused on her parents but found her eyes wandering to the cosmetic changes her parents had made in her absence. The couch was a cream-colored leather sofa, replacing the comfortable brown leather that she had grown up with, and a fresh coat of pale peach paint brightened the walls. Liz glanced momentarily over her shoulder in the direction of her room and wondered if the living room was the only room in the apartment to see such changes.

“Well,” Diane began again, a breathy sigh escaping from her lips. “It’s wonderful to see you, both of you, and the children – my God, they’re beautiful.”

“But,” Max added and Liz squeezed his hand, knowing Diane had let the sentence dangle, a ‘but’ hanging unsaid in the air.

“But,” Philip continued, “of course, we have some questions.”

“What would you like to know,” Liz asked as she glanced sideways at Max. She exhaled, knowing their parents deserved the entire truth and surprisingly, she felt prepared to give it to them.


Of course, our parents had questions. I had been naïve enough to think we would be able to just show up in Roswell with three children and no one ask any questions.

We started with Isabel’s death and continued the story from there. We told about our life in New Orleans; our parents seemed most interested to know if we had continued our education. We gave them specifics about each child because I knew my mother and Max’s mother would want to know everything they could about their grandchildren. I told them about my dreams of Alex and Isabel and how Max and I decided returning to Roswell to discover the truth behind them. When we finished, Diane and my mother were in tears, my father and Philip as close as I’d ever seen them to the same. I had been brutally honest with our parents, something that had never happened between us face to face.



“Has Jesse seen Alex,” Diane questioned while she attempted to regain her composure. Liz looked at her and gave her a small, sympathetic smile. Talking about Isabel always made her upset; she could only imagine what it had done to Philip and Diane, having read about their only daughter’s death and the birth of their grandson in a letter. “Lately, I mean. Has he seen how much like Isabel he is?”

“Jesse hasn’t seen Alex since he was two days old. I’m not even sure Jesse knows where we live,” Liz glanced at Max before continuing. “We receive money each month for Alex’s care. We don’t have any other communication with Jesse.”

“Does Alex, does he know…about Isabel?”

“He does now,” Max replied. “He knows about Alex and that Isabel was his real mother.”

“Whether he understands it or not,” Liz interrupted. “I don’t know.”

“I think he understands, and he knows that Isabel is in heaven with Alex.”

“Do they have powers…abilities,” Jeff asked. “I mean, they know they’re…different, don’t they?”

“We’ve talked about it, but I think they’re too young to develop powers like ours. I didn’t heal anything until I was almost twice Alex’s age.”

“Has Jesse…asked about Alex,” Liz questioned, the familiar ache of loss flooding her heart. She knew Jesse had signed away his parental rights to Alex but that didn’t stop her from fearing she could lose Isabel’s son.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“What? Did something happen to Jesse?”

Liz watched as Philip and Diane exchanged glances and she moved closer to the edge of the sofa. “What happened?”

“Not long after we received your letter…about Isabel and Alex, Jesse came back to Roswell. He brought a woman with him, he said they worked together. Her name was Rachel -”

“Rachel?”

“Do you know her?”

Liz placed her hand on Max’s thigh, sensing his heightened emotions almost immediately. Max relaxed somewhat but Liz knew he was thinking about that day in Boston when she had thought Jesse and Rachel were involved, and the confrontation that soon followed between Jesse and Max. “We met her…in Boston.”

“Oh,” Diane said before she continued. “Well, Jesse met with Philip and I and told us he had told Rachel the truth about Isabel, Max and Alex. It seems Isabel arrived in Boston looking for Jesse shortly before Alex was born.”

“That’s right,” Max interjected.

“Jesse said he wanted to marry Rachel, that he felt safe with her but he wanted to make sure we were okay first.”

“Did they get married?”

“They did. They had a lovely ceremony in Boston. Jesse’s mother went, of course, and we saw her pictures.”

“Last year,” Philip began, taking over the story from Diane, “Jesse and Rachel came back to Roswell. It was the first time they’d been back since he came and told us he wanted to marry Rachel and he came by the office for a little while. He said he needed some advice.”

“Advice about what?”

“He said the marriage wasn’t working, that he was comparing Rachel to Isabel without meaning to and that Rachel didn’t want Jesse to try to make any contact with Alex. She seemed to be obsessed about your heritage and that by creating a child with Isabel, no child they had together would measure up.”

“It wasn’t just about children, Philip,” Diane interrupted and Liz noticed a distinct change in her demeanor. “Rachel wanted Max and Michael to be found. She didn’t understand the need for secrecy, the need we as parents had to protect you.” Diane paused as if she were waiting for a sign to encourage her to continue to talk. “I think she wanted to confess the truth about Jesse’s relationship with Isabel to the media. I…I don’t know why she thought it would help their failing marriage to out Isabel, Max and Michael, and Alex…I don’t know.”

“What happened,” Liz questioned although she felt she knew where this story was headed. If Rachel had wanted to expose Isabel, Max, Michael and Alex, she would be risking not only their lives but her own, and her marriage to Jesse.

“It was a car accident,” Diane whispered. “Rachel drove out of town, so Jim told us later. She had been missing for a few hours and Jim, Jesse and Kyle went looking for her. He didn’t put this in his report but Jim said Rachel’s body had a silver hand print around her neck.”

“He seemed to think she was murdered,” Philip calmly replied. “Jim and Kyle did a really good job keeping it out of the media and by the time it was necessary to have Rachel’s funeral, the hand print was gone.

“It fades,” Liz said, inhaling sharply as five sets of eyes focused on her. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud. She couldn’t help the shiver that passed down her spine as for the second time that day, Cal Langley’s face flashed through her mind.

[JO]

Author's Note: I hope no one had given up on me. Just working through some unplanned plot points that chose this section to appear. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it!


JO

_________________


Part 10


Liz stood on a highway, nothing visible for miles except asphalt and desert. She spun in all directions and opened her mouth to scream Max’s name, the familiar feeling of terror seizing her when she realized she had no voice. She turned back to the original direction she had faced, the first direction she remembered seeing, and caught sight of a gray Monte Carlo that looked abandoned.

Running toward it, her spine tickled and a chill ran through her body, leaving her suddenly cold. She surveyed the car, the driver’s side door open, and cautiously walked around it. She screamed, although no sound came out, when she saw the body of a red-haired woman hanging from the passenger side, her torso on the ground while her legs remained in the floorboard of the car, as if she had been dragged from her seat. Liz ran to her side and against her better judgment, she touched the body, the red hair washing to the side revealing Rachel Ramirez’s lifeless face and her dead eyes. Another scream rippled from Liz’s vocal chords, this one releasing sound into the atmosphere.

“She’s been dead for a while.”

Liz turned toward the trunk of the car at the noise and saw Alex Whitman standing in the shoulder of the road, Isabel Evans Ramirez seated on top of the truck. “Alex? Isabel? Wh…what are you two doing here?”

“Rachel. I came to see Rachel,” Isabel replied softly, her hands folded neatly underneath her chin, her brown hair now as long as her blonde hair had once been. “To make sure she was dead.”

“Isabel,” Alex cautioned, and Liz watched as Alex placed the palm of his hand on Isabel’s knee, Isabel automatically dropping both of her hands on top of it. “Hey, Liz.”

“Hey, Alex. Is this a dream? Am I…am I going crazy?”

“You’re not crazy. This is a special circumstance, I guess you could say.”

“I don’t dream about things that really happened. Every dream I’ve had since Isabel’s death has been just that – a dream, a figment of my imagination.”

“Then this could be a figment too,” Alex agreed, looping his arm across Liz’s shoulders with his familiar flourish. “Or it could be your subconscious talking to you…subconsciously.”

“She hurt Jesse, Liz,” Isabel said and Liz turned her attention to Isabel once again. Isabel’s long brown hair blew in the breeze, her arms folded neatly across her chest as she stood over Rachel’s body. “She was going to destroy his life. She wouldn’t let him try to find Alex. She called Alex a half-breed, a freak. She hated my child. She would have destroyed Jesse and all of you if she’d been given the chance.”

“But you…you didn’t kill her, did you? You…that’s not possible, is it?”

“You’re the conduit, Liz, just like Langley said, and you’re right,” Alex replied as he stepped toward Liz. “It’s not possible for either of us to do this much damage.” Releasing Liz, he bent over Rachel’s body and pulled her hair over her face like a sheet. “But she was murdered by an alien. I know firsthand what that looks like.”

“Alex,” Isabel said as she playfully slapped him on the shoulder, a wry grin on her face despite the emotions Liz knew bubbled just below the surface for the three of them. Alex’s death was something Isabel and Liz had never recovered from. It was what had brought Liz back to Roswell; his death and her dreams.. “That was in bad taste, even for you.”

“Sorry.”

“But where is Jesse,” Liz questioned, Alex and Isabel stepping past her, the two of them walking hand in hand down the white line marking the shoulder of the road, Liz trailing behind them without looking back at Rachel’s body. “Is he…is he with you?”

“No, he’s not with us.”

“Is he,” Liz began before breaking off, pointing her index finger toward the ground.

“No, no. Jesse isn’t dead, Liz. He’s just incapacitated.”

“Incapacitated? Was he charged with…the murder? Is he in jail?”

“Rachel is gone from his life but she lives in his memories. She haunts him and Jesse will probably never recover from her manipulations.”

“I don’t understand.”

“He’s in an institution, Liz, a mental institution in Boston.” Alex released Isabel and she continued walking, leaving Alex and Liz in her wake. He waited for several seconds before continuing. “It’s hard for Isabel, especially when we can only watch without giving any kind of protection or warning. She wanted Jesse to be happy but Rachel, well, Rachel didn’t understand our need for secrecy. She didn’t understand that there were people out there that could hurt you, Max, Michael, Alex…everyone we loved.”

“So Rachel was murdered by an alien. Was it Cal? Did Langley kill her to protect us?”

“Protect them, Liz,” Isabel called from the distance, motioning with her fingers for Alex to come to her. “You have to protect them because we can’t. You’ll find the answers. You always do.”

“Wait,” Liz called, Alex magically at Isabel’s side, their fingers intertwined as they walked down the road and away from Liz. “I have more questions. There are so many things I don’t understand, like these dreams.”

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,” Alex called without turning around to face Liz. “Miles to go, Liz. You’re close but you still have miles to go.”


Liz willed herself awake, her mind reeling from the images she had seen and she wondered if they were real or not. Max stirred beside her and she remembered that they were sharing her bed in her old room, Charlie, Alex and Hope tucked safely into her parents’ bed, her parents on air mattresses in the living room. “Langley did it,” she whispered to Max, his arms already tugging her back underneath the sheets.

“Langley did what?”

“He killed…he killed Rachel. He killed her to protect us. And Jesse,” she began but paused as she felt her words flying from her lips faster than she had time to process them. “Jesse is in a mental institution in Boston.”

“How do you know that? Liz? What’s going on?”

“Isabel and Alex. I had another dream about Isabel and Alex.”

“What?,” Max questioned, looping his arms around Liz’s upper body when she began to shake uncontrollably. “How do they know what happened?”

“Alex said they can w…w…watch. He said Rachel was killed by an alien. Isabel…Isabel said that I have to protect them.”

“Protect who, Liz? Who was Isabel talking about?”

“I…I don’t know, Max. I…I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s happening to me and why it’s happening to me. I…I feel like I’m going crazy. These dreams, I can’t stand having any more of these dreams.” She ran her palms down the length of her face. “I saw Rachel’s body, Max. I saw the car and her body -”

“We’ll get to the bottom of it,” Max assured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and lowered their bodies back down to the bed, his arms still wrapped tightly around Liz’s frame. “We’ll find out what Isabel and Alex are trying to say.”