|Disclaimer: If I owned 'em I wouldn't be in debt up to my eyebrows in
Summary: Vignette set seven years in the future.
Category: Other Roswell Stories
Author's Note: This was written at the beginning of season 2. I don't generally write this type of thing, angst-sure, conversations-sure, this-no. But this is what comes of sitting in contemporary social work and listening to a lecture on poverty lines. No offense, Professor Saur.
The road lay out before her, glimmering seductively in the desert heat as waves of air created a watery tapestry. Turquoise blue skies stretched overhead from horizon to horizon, unmarred by even the thinnest wisp of cloud.
She had almost forgotten the ethereal draw and beauty of the New Mexico desert. Almost.
It had been seven years since she had last driven past these mesas and shifting sand dunes in the only car she could buy outright, a battered old Honda that had been nearly as old as she was. She had driven away, determined not to look back or muse on all that she had left behind.
She had left on a cold winter's evening but she would return in the bright sunlight of a Roswell spring.
Seven years. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't such a long time, but relative to her own life it was an eternity. A lifetime of refusing to think of everything she'd systematically loved and ultimately abandoned, or been abandoned by.
Contact had finally been made, real contact. They were needed, desperately, and Max, Michael, Tess, and Isabel had heeded the call. They had left everyone behind, they had no choice.
Liz had seemed to suffer the most of them all. Her bond with Max had been so strong, so complete, that when he left she shut down for nearly a month. Perhaps she had the hardest time because her life with Max had been relatively easy.
Eventually the days that were filled with hopeless loneliness stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months. Slowly, life for those who were left regained some semblance of order and normalcy. Liz returned to university life and excelled much as everyone had suspected she would. She had gained a sense of focus that had been lacking in her life up until then. Alex had thrown himself wholeheartedly into his band and his music. Kyle went into the minor leagues and moved up the ranks until he had found a place for himself on a major league team. And Maria. Maria had fled Roswell in the middle of the night, leaving everyone to wonder at her sudden departure. She had disappeared into the desert night as completely as the alien quartet had.
She smiled when she passed the sign designating the city limit. She held no false hopes that she would be welcomed back with open arms, she had caused too much pain with seven years of silence to be forgiven so easily, to be forgiven at all. Regardless, she was still filled with a sense of homecoming.
Idly, she wondered what she would find. Seven years could have changed the town of her youth drastically, but she was hard pressed to believe it. Some things simply never changed.
She had sent her mother postcards periodically but two years ago the last one was returned: return to sender, address unknown. She had never written to Liz. Actually she had written to her countless times but could never summon up enough courage to mail the letters. Liz was better off not being bothered by the flighty, childhood pal who had hurt her so much.
She pulled her car into the parking lot across the street from the Crashdown. Yeah, some things never changed.
A sudden terror swept through her. How could she just walk in after such a long absence?
"Are we there yet?"
Maria glanced into the rear view mirror, adjusting it slightly so that she could see the fair-haired, pixie-faced child who watched her expectantly with beautiful eyes. Michael's eyes. She smiled back at the child.
Seven years could be a lifetime.
|Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours