FanFic - Michael/Maria
" A Cry for Help"
Part 1
by Evan
Disclaimer: I do not own any of "Roswell"'s characters. They belong to the WB, although if Brendan Fehr happened to have a falling out with the WB, he could be mine any day.
Summary: When Michael is severely injured, it’s up to Maria to save him.
Category: Michael/Maria
Rating: PG-13
Authors Note: Please write to me (SmileyE101@aol.com0 and tell me if I should change the ending or leave it how it is.
Dear Michael,

I’m writing to you because I can’t hold back my feelings any longer, and even though I will never willingly show this note to you or anyone else, I feel that in some way, you’ll already know what I’m writing, and understand. It is hard to explain how I felt when you were so sick after the ‘sweat’. I was scared and sad and angry and loved you more in that weak, vulnerable strength than I ever had before. As you got worse and worse, I felt like a piece of me was dying with you. I was so frightened that you’d leave me. I love you so much and don’t believe for one second that you meant anything you told me outside that party. I understand that you don’t want to get close to anyone because you don’t want anyone holding you back if and when he time comes that you’re able to go home. But I think it would be harder for you to NOT love me here, on this earth, than it would be if you just gave in to your feelings. I know that in your heart, you love me too, and if you left earth knowing that you missed a chance to learn to love someone who knows who and what you are, but still loves you, you’d torture yourself for the rest of your life. I don’t know what else to say. I love you. Please, do in your heart what you know is right.

Yours forever, even if you don’t know it,


Maria dropped her pen and read over the note she’d just written. She didn’t know what Michael would think about it, and decided she’d never know because she wasn’t planning on giving it to him. She folded it and placed it in a box on her dresser. *Oh Michael* she thought. *Why can’t you just love me? I know you want to.* A single tear slid down Maria’s cheek and she brushed it away with a sigh. She lay down on her bed, not even bothering to get under the sheets, and fell asleep.


Michael couldn’t sleep. He rolled over in his bed and clamped his eyes shut. But it was no use. All he saw was her. Her short, blond hair that he loved to run his fingers through, and her eyes which he loved to stare into, and her mouth which could give the softest, most soulful kisses, or the hungriest, most passionate ones. In the classes he shared with her at school, he’d make it a point to sit behind her so he could stare at the back of her head and try to figure out what she was thinking. When he saw her in the hallways, he’d feast his eyes on her for a few precious moments, then run in the other direction. It was a constant game of hide-and-seek: hiding from her, but still seeking her love.

Thinking about her wasn’t helping him sleep, so Michael flicked on a light. *God, I want this girl* he thought. *But I can’t have her.* He looked around his tiny room and saw a pile of old yearbooks almost hidden from view by a pile of even older clothes. *If I can’t have her in real life, maybe I can try it in her dreams.* So Michael picked out the most recent year book and turned to the page with her picture on it. He placed he fingers on her face and lay down on the bed again. He slowly drifted out of consciousness.


He was in school. The hallway outside the eraser room, to be exact. He heard footsteps and turned around to find the dream-Maria walking towards him. He ducked into a classroom before she could see him and watched through the window in the door.

Maria walk up the hallway until she was level with Michael. Then, suddenly, a pair of arms reached out from the opposite classroom and pulled her in. She squealed, then there was silence. Micahel was horrified. Maria was in danger! He flung open the door and raced to the opposite side of the hallway, only to find that that door was locked. “Hold on Maria, I’m coming!” he yelled. He took a few steps backward and launched himself at the door. It crashed open and he fell to the floor. He heard Maria scream and looked up. His eyes widened. There was Maria in her bra, her shirt on the floor. And there was himself, the dream-Michael, also with no shirt, looking down in horror. The dream-Maria and dream-Michael were in each other’s arms and pulled apart reluctantly. Maria turned her eyes to the real Michael and fixed him with a look of hurt, anger, and shame. She opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, Michael woke up.

Something had awoken him. He got up and listened carefully. He could hear banging and clumping in the kitchen. *What if that’s someone from the FBI?* worried Michael. *Dammit, I’ll have to go look.* With that, he left his own room and went down the tiny corridor to the kitchen. He peeked around the corner and saw a dark figure looking through the coffee can that Mr. Guerin put his money in when he was sober enough to save it. *Hey asshole!* thought Michael. *That’s our money!*

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” yelled Michael at the figure. When the dark man raised his head, Michael saw that it was Hank, his foster father. “Oh, it’s you, boy,” said Hank. When Michael stepped forward, he smelled alcohol on Hank’s breath.

“You can’t take that money, we’re saving it for the rent,” said Michael in a quiet, but rage-filled voice.

“Oh can’t I, boy?” asked Hank mockingly. “Don’t call me ‘boy’,” replied Michael. “I’ll call you anything I want,” said Hank. “You’ll regret it if you try and stop me.” Michael took a step forward. A simple, innocent movement, but one that the drunken man took as a threat. He pulled a pistol from his jeans. Michael’s eyes widened as he watched Hank take aim at him and fire.


Maria had woken up. It was still dark outside, but Maria guessed that it was her strange dream that had caused her to wake. Two Michaels? One trying to make out with her, and one bursting in right in the middle? It was too weird for words.

She was thirsty, so she pulled herself off the bed and went down the hall to the bathroom. A couple of glasses of water later, Maria went back to her room and sat on her bed, looking around. *I wonder what Michael’s doing right now. Probably sleeping, like I should be.* Another single tear slid down Maria’s face, but this one was followed by many others and before she knew it, she was sobbing into her pillow. *Why?* she wondered in metal anguish. *Why can’t he love me? I love him so much!* It was because of her loud sobs that Maria almost didn’t hear her name being called. “Maria,” came a pained voice from outside her window. “Maria.” She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. Now she wasn’t sad, she was scared! “Who’s there?” she called out her open window. She heard a moan of pain, and then, “Maria, it’s me . . . please . . . help me . . .” As Maria looked out of her window, she saw a figure stumble into the light. Her heart wrenched. It was Michael! “Michael? What . . . who . . . what’s wrong?” she whispered. She heard a groan and a thud as Michael fell tot he ground. *Oh my God, what’s wrong with him?* Maria climbed out her window and into the tree just outside. The bark was painful on her bare feet, but she couldn’t feel a thing. All that registered was that Michael was in trouble and he’d come to her for help. She landed on the ground right next to Michael and gasped at what she saw. He was pale, so very pale, and a pool of blood was forming under him. She began to cry again, but not for herself, for Michael. “Oh God,” she sobbed. “Michael, what happened?” “Hank . . . drunk . . . gun . . .” moaned Michael. He spasmed. “Hurt . . . so bad . . . Maria . . . help . . . please.” She tried to breathe deeply, but it wasn’t working. *NO!* she reprimanded herself. *Don’t think about you, think about him!* “Michael, can’t you heal yourself?” she asked. “No . . . strength . . . left,” said an only semi-conscious Michael. His head lolled from side to side like a rag doll’s. Maria realized that she had to get him up to her room. “Come one,” she said. “Mom’s out of town on a sales trip, so we can use the front door.” And with that, she gingerly pulled Michael up. He put almost al his weight on Maria’s small frame, but the adrenaline coursing through her body gave her infinite strength. After what seemed like hours, but really couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, Maria and Michael had reached her room. Michael was breathing hard, and Maria had to admit she was tired now. She put him down on the bed and helped him lie down. He was moaning loudly and was in terrible pain. Maria tried to think. *What do I do? Who do I call? Not 9-1-1, they’ll take a blood sample. Liz? No, it’s the middle of the night, so her parents will answer the phone.* “Michael,” she said. “If I get Max and Isabel, will they be able to heal you?” Michael nodded, but caught her wrist as she got up to go to the phone. “Their parents . . . hate me . . .” he said. “Won’t let them . . . come . . . in the . . . middle of the night . . . just . . . for . . . me . . .” *Oh God* thought Maria. *I have to do this on my own.* She took a deep breath, grabbed the neck of his T-shirt with both hands, and pulled with all her might. The shirt ripped right down the middle and Maria gasped when she saw all the blood. There was a small hole in Michael’s side. Maria got up to get towels and water. But before she left, she leaned down and kissed Michael gently on the cheek. His eyes opened for a second and then closed again. *Why did I kiss him?* wondered as she ran for water and towels. But she stopped herself from answering her own mental question. She knew the answer. She loved him. She could only pray that he felt the same way about her. *Enough!* she told herself. *If he dies, you’ll never find out!* Returning to the room, she had to catch her breath. Even with the blood, Michael’s bare, naked chest looked incredibly sexy. *NO! Now is so not the time!* she told herself. She soaked a towel in cool water and tried to clean up the blood. Some came off on the towel but was immediately replaced by more because the wound was still bleeding. Michael was getting whiter and whiter under his tan. “Maria,” he said. “I need . . . energy . . . your energy . . . so I . . . can . . . heal myself.” “What do I have to do?” asked Maria, desperate by this time. “We need . . . a connection . . . more than . . . just . . . touching . . . Gotta show . . . we care . . . about . . . each other.” Maria’s eyes opened wide. “Kiss me . . .quick . . . not much time.” Maria didn’t need much prompting. She leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. She felt Michael’s hand move to his side and cover the bulled hole. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a bright glow. *Thank God* thought Michael, as his pain left him. The bullet and the wound were gone now, but they were still kissing passionately. He pulled her onto the bed with him as she ran her hands through his hair. His hands were everywhere. They still hadn’t stopped kissing. After a very serious make-out session, they fell into each other’s arms and slept. **************

Michael woke up first. It was daylight. He carefully pulled away from Maria and sat on the side of the bed, watching her sleep. It was then that he realized they’d knocked a small box off the dresser. As he picked up the jewelry that had fallen out of the box, he saw a piece of paper. He was about to put it back when he saw the words ‘Dear Michael’. He sat on the chair at Maria’s desk and began to read. At that moment Maria opened her eyes. She gasped inwardly and shut them tight again, pretending to be asleep. Meanwhile, her mind raced. *Oh my God, he’s reading the letter! What do I do? Do I pretend I don’t know he’s read it or do I come clean?* She peeked out at Michael again. He was done reading the letter and was sitting with his fingers at his temples. She sighed and pretended to roll over so she could have a better view of him. Ho looked so sexy. Michael looked up at her and got up. He came over to her and lay down in front of her. *Say it now* Michael commanded himself. *Say it now and tell her you love her so much. That she’s right about everything. She’s asleep. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just say it!* “I love you,” he whispered into Maria’s ear. When he said these words, her eyes fluttered open. Michael didn’t seem surprised to see she was actually awake. “I love you, too,” she said. She stroked Michael’s bare chest and looked deep into his eyes. Neither one spoke a word.


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