Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Wish I did. I'm just borrowing
them temporarily, and I promise to put them back none the worse for wear.
Summary: Roswell, based on the books NOT the TV series. Basically, this picks up immediately after the end of book #10 of the series. If you aren't familiar with the books, you might be lost. The some of the characters you won't know. Sheriff Valenti is dead. The Pod Squad is different. Max isn't a king. There is no Royal Four. Isabel is a cheerleader. Max is blonde. Liz's last name isn't Parker. Michael is not nearly as surly. Maria has curly hair. They have different powers as well. They can see auras, and a biggie is that they can not only change the shape of things, but change their appearance as well. There are others but I digress. Synopsis: Michael and Maria are finally together. Kyle Valenti is saved.
Category: After Hours
Authors Note: I really enjoyed the Roswell High books. But I felt like Michael and Maria got short changed. The ten books spent a goodly amount of time developing Max and Liz's relationship. It seemed unfair that Michael realized how he felt about Maria and confessed his love to her, just to have the book and the series end a couple of pages later. Thanks To: I want to thank my beta readers, deah, Mysticalshevamp, ViLaNdRa194, and Tinkerbellgirl69. A very special thank you goes to shadowwalker. You are the *the best*! Your suggestions and comments were always dead on, and I think the story is better because of you. I owe you a lot.
|West. They were going west. Highway 380. Michael knew the only thing this
highway connected with was I-25, which would take them to Albuquerque. Once
Clean Slate was through with him it would be easy to dispose of him in a city
the size of Albuquerque. Just one more dead body. No one to claim him. No
one to care. Michael had no doubt that this would be his eventual end if he
didn't get away from the two agents.
"Hey, do you think we could stop somewhere? I need to take a leak," he said.
Uncle Fred turned toward him with a hostile look. "Sure kid. But don't get any bright ideas like trying to escape."
"Don't worry. I still feel like shit from whatever it was you guys shot me up with. I don't think I could run too far."
Uncle Fred and his buddy laughed. "Well, there's more where that came from."
Great, Michael thought as the van pulled over to the side of the road. Of course he couldn't be lucky enough for them to stop at a gas station or anywhere where there might be the prayer of finding help from an innocent bystander. Oh well, he did need to pee. He stepped out of the van and walked unsteadily for a few steps into the desert. The effects of the first injection had not completely worn off.
Turning back toward the van Michael saw Uncle Fred with a cattle prod in one hand and a hypodermic needle in the other. The other agent had a cattle prod in his hand as well. Both of them had grins on their faces. He sighed heavily. This is going to hurt, he thought as they advanced toward him.
He held his hands in front of him in a submissive gesture and backed up. "You guys know more than I do. You've been through the files, I haven't." That much was the truth.
"Come on now," Uncle Fred said advancing slowly. "We can do this the easy way or we can do it the hard way. Either way it's gonna happen."
"I'm not going to just let you shoot me up with that stuff," Michael said continuing to back up.
"Aww," No Name sympathized. "Too bad."
No Name started coming toward Michael faster. Michael tried to keep the distance between them, but tripped over a rock and landed flat on his back. No Name and Uncle Fred were on him in an instant. No Name zapped him with the cattle prod, and Michael couldn't move.
This wasn't good. Cattle prods should hurt, but they shouldn't paralyze. Uncle Fred injected him with the drug and he and his buddy stood back and watched Michael slip into unconsciousness.
"Your turn," No Name commented as he turned and walked back toward the van.
Uncle Fred cursed and pulled Michael off the ground, threw him over his shoulder and started for the van himself.
"Can't you go any faster?" Maria begged.
"We're already doing 70, we don't need to get pulled over," Max replied, but he increased the pressure on the accelerator and the speedometer crept upward.
"I hate to ask this, but what are we going to do when we find them?" Kyle asked.
Isabel gave him a hard look. "Do whatever it takes to get Michael back."
Liz looked over at Kyle and saw that there was more to the question than he had said. He was scared and needed some reassurance from the group. "Kyle, we're not going to trade you for Michael," she said.
Isabel took his hand. "We wouldn't do that," she said.
Maria was oblivious to the discussion behind her. She continued to look into the dark road ahead, searching. "Max," she said. "Can you go faster, please?"
Michael could hear voices, and as the drug-induced haze started to clear somewhat, he found he could make sense of what they were saying. Roy - ah! No Name finally had a name - was complaining that he was hungry and wanted to stop at a diner they would be coming to in a few miles. Where were they? Were they still on Hwy 380 or had they made the exit to I-25? It was still dark, and that was good.
He realized that he was starting to feel better and better. Either the drug was wearing off, which would mean he had been out for a while.
Or …………. or his body was adjusting to the new blood chemistry. Isabel and Alex had told him about how Isabel had reacted when they were trying to break him out of the Clean Slate compound, and the doctor had injected Isabel with some sort of drug to knock her out. Their bodies were highly adaptable to the environment and conditions. His body wasn't throwing off the drug's effects as quickly as Isabel's had, but it appeared he was adjusting.
Wait a minute! Did he still appear to be Kyle? Michael had no mirror, but he reasoned that if he had suddenly shape changed into a different appearance, even dunces like Fred and Roy would have figured out they had a real, live alien on their hands. If that happened, he was pretty sure he wouldn't be lying on the seat of the van like a sack of potatoes.
"That restaurant is at the next exit, and I'm telling you that I want some breakfast. And it's your turn to drive," Roy complained.
"Oh, all right," Fred grumbled. "We can stop but only for half an hour. I want to get this damned kid to headquarters. Let them question him and figure out what to do with him. What are we going to do with Sleeping Beauty while we eat?"
"Aww, he's out like a light. You gave him enough of that shit to drop an elephant. He won't be going anywhere under his own steam for a while. Just leave him in the van."
Michael felt the van slow and begin to make a gentle curve as they exited the highway, then a sharper turn as they pulled into the parking lot. Bright florescent lighting flooded the van and Michael concentrated on appearing to still be unconscious. The van doors opened and closed and he heard Fred and Roy talking as they walked toward the restaurant.
Michael carefully opened his eyes and sat up slowly. His head swam a bit, but nothing compared to the last time. He still felt a bit fuzzy, but at least he didn't feel like puking.
Two points for the good guys.
Of course Roy hadn't left the keys to the van behind. That would have been too easy. Michael knelt between the two front seats and put a hand on the key hole of the ignition. He tried to visualize the inner workings of the car's electrical system. If he could see the pathway, maybe he could get the engine to start, and he could just drive back to Roswell leaving Roy and Fred high and dry at the Ho-Jo. Even though he was feeling better by the minute, the drugs were defeating him. He couldn't sort out the jumble of the car's ignition system in his mind. There were too many routes and too many pathways for him to handle.
He didn't have much time, but he needed help. He'd been with Maria on the dream plane when Roy and Fred had jumped him. Maybe she was still there, or maybe Max or Isabel was asleep. He lay back down on the seat. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to relax enough to get to the dream plane, but the drugs worked in his favor this time. Dream orbs appeared before him.
Maria's orb wasn't there. Neither was Max's or Isabel's. The only one he saw was Alex's orb. Michael opened his eyes. This could only mean that the others were awake, and hopefully they were trying to come to the rescue. He closed his eyes again and summoned up an emotional blast to send their way, and fear was the most powerful emotion at hand. He hoped it was enough.
"Did you feel that?" Isabel asked.
"Yes," Max replied urging the jeep faster.
"What?" Maria demanded.
"Michael," Isabel replied. "I can feel Michael." She summoned up all the feelings of relief, love and calming thoughts she could and threw it back toward Michael.
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