by Candy Doris
|Disclaimer: The characters are not ours, just the creative circumstances in
this particular fanfic came from our minds.
Summary: All our favorite characters are chasing hope...in every sense of the word. When the aliens leave to follow destiny, their earthling counterparts are forced to follow a destiny of their own with Hope being their only guidance. But what happens when the past and future, destiny and hope blend together and the future becomes past and the hope becomes destiny?
Author's Note: There are two imaginations behind this fanfic. One in California, one in Florida. A chance meeting empowered us to work together, each using our individual talents of editing and writing, respectively, and ultimately taking the first steps in achieving our dreams. Please let us know what you think. (Your conscious will eat you alive until you do!) Please copy both of us at the following email address: firstname.lastname@example.org & email@example.com
|"It's just something I need to do on my own," Michael told Max as he stuffed
more socks into his duffel bag.
"Michael," Max tried to reason. He leaned against the dresser in Michael's hotel room. "How will you..."
"Look," Michael said interrupting Max. Michael tossed a rolled piece of paper to Max. He resumed packing the few earthly belongings he had as Max unrolled the document. "University of New Mexico. The first four years are basic. It's the training at UCLA that I need."
"A fake degree, Michael? Do you really think you're going to get into UCLA?"
Michael stopped packing and looked squarely at Max. "It's done, Max. I'm in. It doesn't matter how I got in, but I will graduate. I'm not going to fake my way through medical school. I just needed a way to get in."
"So, you used your powers." Max said confirming Michael's actions.
"Like you've never used your powers for yourself," Michael said struggling to close the zipper on his bag. He sat on the bag and bounced a few times as if to will the contents smaller. He tried the zipper again with no luck. He sighed and resorted to holding his palm over the metal teeth. In a matter of seconds the bag was closed. He grabbed the black straps and flung the duffel over his shoulder. "I'll be able to help people." Michael walked across the room and joined Max in leaning against the dresser. He took a long breath and began. "Do you remember how it felt when you saved Liz that day in the Crashdown?"
"Yeah, of course," Max answered not quite sure where Michael was going.
"It felt good, right? You saved her. You helped her. And not just anyone...the love of your life." Michael's face dropped and he looked at the floor. "Now imagine the exact opposite of that feeling...times a thousand." He looked back up at Max. "That's how I feel about Maria. I should have been here to help her."
Max put his hand on Michael's shoulder. "Michael, you couldn't have known. And you were needed on Antar."
"Was I?" Michael asked. "I left what I knew and loved for something I didn't - know or love. And I still don't. I mean, I've seen Antar. I know our people...now. I went and fought for that race, but this is my home. If I'd realized that before..." Michael's voiced trailed off as he sank further into self-pity and depression.
Michael gathered himself and stood to leave. When he reached the door, Michael turned back to face Max and offered one last hope, "Take care of Liz. I know it looks like she has her new life together, but she needs you...more than you know right now." Michael left Max and the hotel he'd called home for the past week and dumped his bag in the trunk of his new car. He opened the door, sat behind the wheel, started the engine, and drove away without looking back.
Over the past week, Michael had done a lot of thinking. He knew he could never undo what had been done, but he figured he could keep it from happening again. Maybe not for himself, but he could help save the loves of others. Girlfriends, boyfriends, moms, dads, brothers. Finally, he had a plan. With that plan in mind and rolling, he decided to give his overworked mind a break. He scanned radio stations until he found a song he liked, and then he turned the volume up loud. He rolled down the car window and sang at the top of his lungs.
The sun shown brightly on his face, the wind blew through his hair, and he felt free. He'd left the war on Antar only to arrive on Earth to a new sort of war. A war within himself. But now, now that he had a plan that he felt confident about, his worries began to ease. He would become more. He would exceed the high potential Maria had always seen in him. He would do everything for her, in her honor.
Three hours into his trip, Michael stopped at a small café outside of (city). Just as he took the key from the ignition, he noticed movement in the back seat. Michael froze as he prepared for battle. He moved his open palm into the air and turned quickly in his seat to face the intruder.
Michael dropped his guard when he saw the stow-away was Isabel.
"Geez, Michael, don't do that!" Isabel shouted angrily as she pulled and straightened her hair. She patted wrinkles from her shirt and gathered her purse from the floorboard. She smiled sweetly at Michael and said, "Thank God you stopped! I have so got to go to the little alien's room."
A stunned Michael stared at Isabel as she opened the back door and got out of the car. Finally, he opened his door and hollered, "Isabel! What the..."
"Now, now, Michael," Isabel interrupted as she threw her nose into the air. "Let's not do this here. We'll talk - calmly and rationally - over dinner inside." She turned and continued her trek for the door. Michael remained in the car in complete bewilderment. When Isabel reached the café, she turned and said, "Well, are you going to sit there all night?"
"Yes, the little rascal is with me," Michael said into the receiver of the payphone. He leaned around the corner to look across the café at Isabel. She sat in a booth looking over a laminated menu. "When I find out what's going on, I'll get back with you." Michael hung up the phone and joined Isabel at the table.
"So," Michael said clearly annoyed with Isabel. "What the heck are you doing here? Why were you hiding in my car?"
"Because I knew you and Max would object," Isabel stated rather matter-of-factly. She reached hungrily for a basket of fries the waitress brought to the table. "Great! I'm starved."
"Isabel...come on. You know what I mean," Michael said dousing the fries with Tabasco.
"Okay," Isabel said wiping salt from her fingers. She straightened her back against the booth and looked Michael directly in the eyes. "There's nothing in Roswell for me...anymore. I need a new start. Folks always said I might make a decent model. I'm tall...so...I thought, maybe. Besides, you are going to need a roommate. California is expensive. Especially for starving medical students. I want to try my hand at modeling, Michael."
"In California." Michael finished.
"Yeah. Why not?" Isabel asked nonchalantly reaching for another fry.
"And this has nothing to do with the fact that Alex now lives in California?" Michael said knowing full well his suspensions were right.
"No!!!" Isabel said with wide eyes. She'd hoped Michael wouldn't question her motives, but she knew fooling him was impossible. "Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll see him out there." She looked down at her plate and thought for a minute. Then she regained the carefree disposition she'd been fronting all night. "But if I don't...his loss. I'm gonna be..." Isabel paused to put down her fry and shake the salt from her fingers. She smiled big and held her arms in the air in the shape of a "v" with her fingers spread wide. She finished her thought, "a supermodel!"
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