Disclaimer: Roswell doesn't belong to me... how many times can I say thatwith a straight face? :) However, the next generation of the Pod Squad,including Lauren Valenti, are mine |
Summary: Adam-Michael begins having premonitions of his birth mother, TessHarding, and this causes a gargantuan amount of distress in the seeminglyperfect Evans family.
Authors Note: Ten years after "Language.." ended. Baby Jordana is now ten,and Adam-Michael is fifteen years old. All six of the original "Pod Squad"and their offspring are back home, raising their families in Roswell. Thispart is mostly background info from Jordana's birth until now.
| Stiffening his body against the cold desert night air, Adam-Michael Evans
wrapped a large blue quilt around his tall, thin frame as he walked out on to
the porch of his house. He loved this time of night. It was so peaceful. The
air was so still that he swore he couldn't even feel himself taking breaths.
He sighed, taking in a deep, cleansing breath and thinking about his angel.
Her long blonde hair shimmered in the hot New Mexico sun and her dark tan and
sparce freckles only enhanced the crisp blue light that radiated from her
He loved everything about Lauren Michelle Valenti. He even loved the way her full name rolled smoothly off his tongue, like the words were meant to come only from his lips. He adored her laugh. She had the giddiest, most infectious laugh of anyone he'd ever known- even sweeter than his mother's. He often thought about what it would be like to hold Lauren's tiny, delicate body, run his fingers through her locks of gold, kiss her soft pink lips...
A gust of wind suddenly blew on his face, tingling every inch of his exposed skin and making him shudder. It wasn't until moments later that he realized why he had *really* shuddered. It wasn't because of the chill coming across his body, but of something more sinister.
Something- someone- was near, he could feel it. Because he was a full-blooded alien, he could feel things that no one else in his family could feel. He often had premonitions- feelings of things that were going to happen. He had visions, he could sense them. He even knew that his mom was pregnant before she did. The aliens and their children had a mental connection that no one else could understand.
He shook his head, disbelieving what he was feeling- he shoved the ghost of her further and further back into his subconscious. If he forgot about her, maybe she would just leave him alone.
Maybe he would stop shivering.
He pulled the quilt tighter around his body, trying in vain to stop the floods of images crashing into his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and whispered softly, his voice carrying through the still air.
And with that one word, the images ceased their assault on his senses. He opened his eyes in relief and picked his body up to go back inside to his bedroom. It was 2 AM and his mom was probably awake. She always made him feel better.
As his feet hit the wood of the porch and his body turned in the direction of the house, a gust of wind blew behind him, taking the quilt off his body. He turned around to blame in vain the wind who pulled his safety blanket off his skin.
For a brief moment, he thought he saw her standing right in front of him. As real and as alive as his mother, his father, his sister, Lauren...he shut his eyes, willing her to leave him.
"Adam..." He barely heard a whisper carrying through the wind and into his ears, which were prominent and adorable, just like his father's. His eyes grew big when he opened his big brown eyes and saw that the vision, the eerie feeling, they'd all vanished into the starry desert night.
* * * * *
Liz Parker Evans moaned as she heard her three alarm clocks going off simultaneously. The one next to her bed was easy to shut off- it read "2:00 AM" in a jumble of bright green pixels. The other two alarm clocks, however, were not as easy to silence.
The perfectly-in-tune squealing of her twin baby boys, Matthew and Dylan, echoed through the hallway and into the bedroom she shared with her husband of ten years, Max Evans. Matty and Dylan were prime for their late-night snack and they weren't quieting down until they got what they wanted. She and Max often joked that even at the tender age of eight weeks, the boys knew exactly what tactics to use to get Mom and Dad's attention: two blood-curdling wails got noticed a lot faster than just one lonely scream. They had a double-team advantage over Max and Liz, but as far as they were concerned, Matty and Dylan were their little princes and they couldn't be happier.
Liz rubbed her sleep-deprived eyes as her husband, who was competing for the title of Mr. Wonderful, grabbed her hand, trying to stop her from rolling out of their bed.
"I'll go..." He said, his eyes swollen shut from sleep, his voice barely above a growl.
"No, hon. It's fine. They need their Mommy, and unless you grow breasts in the next five minutes..." She began, smiling and climbing out of their bed. She reached down to the floor, searching in the dark for her crimson satin robe. She finally found it and wrapped it around he body.
Max laughed and yawned. "Well, I can do a lot of things, but grow breasts, I cannot." He smiled as she leaned down to the bed and kissed his forehead.
"Now go to sleep. You have the early shift in the morning." Liz instructed him.
"Nope, I'm not sleeping until you're back here." He patted the empty space in the bed next to him.
She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, shut up. How'd you get so damn wonderful?"
"Hey, I'm a 33-year-old boy scout. Sue me." Max said.
Liz took one last look at Max's face as it a sliver of moonlight danced through the window and into the room, finding the most perfect spot to light up his eyes. She walked down the hall, past her ten-year-old daughter Jordana's room, and into the nursery. The babies were still going at it, wailing like it was going out of style or something. She smiled as she saw little Matty lying on his back, kicking his tiny arms and legs around furiously in his crib. She picked him up and he immediately stopped crying. "Hello, my little prince." She said quietly, kissing the top of his head full of soft, jet-black hair. She walked over to the crib on the other side of the room and found his younger-by two minutes- brother, Dylan, and picked him up, his cries immediately ceasing as well. She kissed and stroked their soft heads and walked with them carefully over to the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Before sitting down, she used her foot to kick off a rattle that had been laid in the chair. Since she had a baby on each arm, she wasn't able to pick it up and move it. She carefully sat down with Matthew on one arm and Dylan on the other. "Time for your snack, boys." She said as she undid her robe and they began eating. She rocked them quietly, closing her eyes and humming a lullaby to them.
Matthew Phillip and Dylan Jeffrey Evans had been born only two months before, and Liz thanked God every day that she was able to have them at all. They were doubly special- double in that they were twins, and that for a long time, she and Max thought they'd never be able to hold a baby of their own in their arms again.
* * * * *
Adam-Michael walked past his room and saw that the door to his parents' room was cracked open slightly. He poked his head in and he heard his father's familiar sleepy growl.
"What's the matter, Adam?" He asked, his back to the door and a pillow covering his head.
Adam-Michael paused. His dad seemed to have eyes in the back of his head and it annoyed the hell out of him. "Nothing." He whispered.
"You want to talk about it?"
"I said it was nothing." Adam repeated firmly.
"If it's nothing, why are you up at..." Max began, opening his sleep covered eyes and peering over at the clock. "...2:11 AM?"
Adam-Michael hesitated, not knowing what to say to his father. *Hey Dad, I saw my dead mother tonight...* That wouldn't fly too well at 2 AM.
"Sorry I woke you, Dad... see you tomorrow." He said quietly, shutting the door behind him before Max had a chance to reply.
"Adam..." Max said, groaning into the pillow. He loved his son with everything he had, but Adam at fifteen was really trying his patience.
As he headed towards his room, he noticed the light was on in his baby brothers' room. His mother was giving them their two o'clock feeding like she had done every night since they were born. He decided to peek in and say hello. Hearing her calm voice singing Matty and Dylan back to sleep was enough to make him relaxed enough to fall asleep once again with ease.
Liz looked up instinctively as the door to the nursery swung open with a slight squeak. Adam-Michael flinched slightly as he heard the squeak, not wanting to distract the babies from their feeding. Luckily, they were falling back to sleep as they ate and didn't notice the extra noise. Liz smiled as her son tiptoed in the room and grabbed a pillow from the floor and leaned against it.
"Hey Mom." He whispered.
"Hi, sweetie. What are you doing up so late?" She asked, smiling and rocking the babies as they ate.
Adam-Michael curved his mouth into a pensive look and yawned. "I had a bad dream, nothing big. I just can't go back to sleep now that I'm up."
"Aww, I'm sorry honey. Do you want to talk about it?" Liz asked, remembering when she was pregnant with Jordana and both she and Adam constantly dreamed about the baby growing inside of her as well as of Adam's birth mother, Tess Harding.
Adam-Michael sighed, shaking his head. "Naw, I don't really remember it now." He was lying through his teeth and his mom knew it. She was too tired to interrogate him so she just left him alone. She smiled as she leaned her face down to the side of Matthew's head resting against her breast, taking in the scent of his sweet perfume. She kissed the side of Dylan's head, which was covered in soft brown hair. She absolutely adored her baby boys and would hold them all day if she could. But with her career, this wish was impossible. She had fufilled her dream in becoming a doctor.
* * * * *
Max's father, Phillip Evans, had died two years before, when Adam-Michael was thirteen and Jordana was just eight years old. He had owned a great deal of stocks and mutual funds and had left all the money from them to his two children, Max and Isabel, and their growing families. Phillip was so proud of Max for fufilling his dream of becoming a doctor that he did everything he could to jumpstart his son's career. He left Max and Liz $100,000 to start up their own private Obstetrics practice. They had accepted the money, and along with one other OB/GYN, started the Evans Family Clinic. The clinic has been up and running for about a year and a half and is run through Roswell Memorial Hospital. Liz and Max, along with their associate, Dr. Richard Larkin, deliver about fifty babies a week. They love the flexibility of their schedules and although they are busy, they always make time for their own children, especially the twins, who realistically, should have never been born...
After Jordana was born, Max and Liz returned to Boston University's medical school and breezed through with babysitting help from their family and friends. They decided to wait until after they were finished with med school and into their residencies before they would try to have another baby. They figured it would be easy for Liz to get pregnant, considering they had no problem with their first child.
They were wrong.
Over a year passed and Liz was still not pregnant. Max wanted her to see a doctor, but was afraid of what he might tell them...they both knew deep down inside of them that something was wrong, but it broke their hearts when the doctor told them that Liz would never again be able to carry a child. He had examined her throughly and had discovered that Liz's womb had been severely damaged by an infection. He couldn't say what it was or what had caused it. In fact, he told Max and Liz that in his thirty years of practicing medicine, he'd never seen anything like it.
Liz and Max were devastated.
The doctor's voice echoed through their minds for days after the visit... "in my thirty years of practicing medicine... I've never seen anything like this..." That's when they realized that the infection wasn't an infection at all.
It was Nasedo.
When he touched a pregnant Liz that day in their Philosophy class, he'd done something to her, something more damaging than they ever knew at the time. That's when Max decided to try his hand at healing his wife for the third time in their lives. If an alien caused this damage, an alien might be able to fix it... healing and prayer were the two words that filled their lives for the next few weeks. And finally, their wish was granted- Liz was pregnant with two healthy baby boys.
The pregnancy was a breeze compared to the exquisite hell Liz went through while carrying Jordana. Tess and Nasedo were long gone, and the only dreams Liz had while pregnant with the boys were sweet ones with two babies nestled on top of fluffy white clouds and all that good stuff.
Liz smiled as she looked up from her twins and over at her teenaged son. Although she hadn't given birth to Adam-Michael, he was hers as far as she was concerned. They even renamed him Adam-Michael Parker Evans after she and Max got married. She loved him with all her heart but there was always this mysterious side she would never understand- his alien side. Being raised by Tess and Nasedo the first five years of his life had had lasting effects on him. He had enormous powers that none of the other children had. Being a full alien, he was capable of every power that Max, Isabel, and Michael possessed, but to an even higher degree because his birth mother was an alien as well.
Adam-Michael shut his eyelids, which were heavy with sleep.
The voice assaulted him again, echoing through his head in stereo.
*"Adam-Michael... my baby..."*
The voice rattled in his brain with the velocity of a Mack truck. He moved swiftly, jumping up from the soft carpet he was lying on and pounding his body into the side of Dylan's crib.
Liz screamed. "Adam!" She picked up the babies and ran over to him as he flailed about the room, arms flying in all directions. She tried to reach out a hand to comfort him, but it was quickly returned back to her. She touched the side of his face and he looked into her eyes. "Adam, what is the matter?" She cried. The babies were screaming now. Liz struggled to place them in their cribs so she could wrap her arms around her oldest son. They continued their totally in sync crying as Adam-Michael fell into Liz's arms. He was at least six inches taller than her and his thin body fell over her shoulders like a rag doll.
"It's her, Mom..." He managed to choke out through sobs.
"Who? Who is it?" Liz asked, searching in his crystal brown orbs for an answer.
Adam-Michael paused, not believing the words as they escaped his lips.
Liz's eyes grew wide with fear.
"Tess?" She managed to whisper out right before a gust of wind blew through the nursery, shutting the doors closed with a loud bang. Adam-Michael held Liz's stunned glance until another shriek pierced the air. This scream wasn't coming from Matty or Dylan either...
It was coming from Jordana's room.
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