FanFic - Other
"The Last Fall"
Part 1
by Lethe
Disclaimer: Jason Katims and co. own Roswell, and all its characters.
Summary: Maria's point of view an undecided number of years into an undecided future. Vague season two spoilers.
Category: Other
Rating: PG
No one thought that it would end like this. But then, no one truly thought that it would end. We were naÔve, innocent beyond our own comprehension. That innocence only made our fall all the harder. We should have known. Sitting happy, terrified, angry, despairing, wondering when the sadness would fade. Why did we not realize that any emotion was better than the desolate plane we leave? We saw war; we saw sickness and death, age and grief. How could we have failed so miserably to see separation? Why did we ignore it as though it would never come? Together we stood tall, together we promised to see it all through, to link hands and rise above the gore of the world, of the universe. Together. Why did none of us see that such a word mocked us even then, as we made our childish pacts? How could I have let my hands fall from theirs so easily?

The strongest of us was the first to fall. He was so stupid, then. We were all stupid, not to shy away from the danger we could not see. It was one fight. One argument, one more misspoken word between close friends, partnered warriors, that had misspoken so many. The camp was tense with anger that night, immature annoyance and exasperation. A grumbling frustration that so soon changed to sorrow in his wake. He had to get himself killed, the fool. Saving no one, saving everyone. Heedless, headstrong as he had always been, determined to prove to all the others that he had been right. It never once occurred to him that for once, for possibly the first time in his mind, he had been wrong. I had refused to help him, that night. It never occurred to me that I was wrong, too. See we are stupid still. Stupid for loving, stupid for leaving, stupid for not forgiving when we should have, stupid for forgetting when we should have remembered. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The princess fell next. It was her own fault. Her own web of past lies, of ancient treachery and deceit. It wasnít us. It wasnít our fault that she feared our rejection, it wasnít our fault that she awaited our hatred. It wasnít our fault that we turned away from her. She should have told us sooner. She should have told us when we could still forgive. She only got what she expected. We didnít force her to work against us. We didnít force her away. Furious silences and hardened jaws canít do that. Clenched fists and turned backs donít make a person leave. We didnít force her to remember us. It wasnít our fault she loved us still, no matter how cruel we had been, no matter how we hated her. We didnít force her to die for us. She should have come back. It wasnít our fault that we would not have accepted her. Stupid of her to have realized that, stupid of us to have not.

My brother died soon after that. Not my real brother, even. I wouldnít have been related to him at all, if our horny parents could have stayed away from each other. I donít remember how he died, not anymore. I donít even remember why he was fighting. I remember that he died for me, that he insisted he wouldnít, that he would use me as a shield against the enemy before he ever stuck his neck out for me. That I smelled like burnt toast, and that he hoped he didnít see me in the next life. I remember that he muttered some irrelevant quote from some decaying philosopher to calm my hysterics right before he fell. I remember that I cried, and that my tears mixed with the blood on his shirt. I remember that we were together once more, the five of us that were left that we stood together for an instant over his broken body. I remember wondering why I had never told him that I had loved him. Stupid of me, to forget such an important thing. Stupid of him, to have not lived long enough to hear me say it.

My other brother Ė my soul brother - fell only days after that. Or were they moments? I remember how he died. I remember it all very clearly, from the smell of smoke as the last bits of rubble fell from the sky, to the high pitched laughter of a gleeful child. An evil child, who wasnít really a child at all. I remember the way the building looked just like a dollhouse to me, with little white windows and a welcome mat on the porch. I remember the way the blackened window frames crunched beneath my feet as I sorted through glass and charcoal to find my friend. I remember that there was no blood. I just donít remember why he died. Something about a misunderstanding. Something where we had all heard our information from different sources, where we no longer checked with one another, but simply assumed that we were of one mind. Assumed that we were together still. Stupid, for thinking we were invincible. Stupid, for not letting his death show us that we werenít.

My best friend was the next victim. My only real friend left, my soul sister, the one dearest to me. She died saving a queen who only realized her true worth, her real strength, when she lay stretched bloody and mangled on a battlefield. A queen that wasnít worth saving. Stupid sister, giving your life for someone so inferior. Stupid, for being so noble and brave, and always putting others first. Stupid, for leaving me here without you. Stupid queen, who could have died in your place. Who could have been the one to look so serene, so peaceful, and so riddled with bullets as the blood left her body. The queen who could have been the one we surrounded and cried over. Surrounded, as we had my equally noble and stupid brother. But we were not together. Not anymore. Stupid us for not seeing that there was still a together to be had.

Half an eternity after her death my last friendís body fell. His soul had already died with hers. He was the only one to leave freely, the only one who had a choice. Stupid him, for taking the easy way out. Stupid king, for not seeing the people that needed you. Stupid universe, for giving him the power to heal. Stupid, for not realizing he could use the same power to kill. Stupid king, for leaving me here while you went with her. For letting me stay when you found your together. How could you? You were supposed to hold us together from the beginning. Stupid man, for letting your best friend go before you saw that he was gone. Stupid, for not saving everyone like we assumed you could. Stupid me, for believing too much of one king. Stupid, for not seeing that you didnít even have the strength to save yourself.

The queen should have been distraught. I should have cried. Stupid us, for not knowing when to heal. She should have seen the bond that had already broken; she should have been the one to mend it. What good are powers if they donít show you things like that? I shouldnít have been the one to know to fix things. Stupid, for telling myself just that the morning before she died. Stupid her, for letting me think such a thing. Stupid for taking the gift my sister gave her, for taking it as though it was nothing and hurling it away. She should have cherished it, should have loved the gift and nurtured it. Stupid her, for letting life go so quickly. Stupid us, for letting together go even faster.

They should have known better. They should have loved harder, treasured more. They should have promised what they could give. What together is there in cold, pale flesh laid side by side? What together is there when one sits unbeaten, unbroken? What together when they have left me all alone? Stupid them, for not seeing this solitude is what I fear most. Stupid them, for not living to hate me, or love me, to be angry with me, or hurt because of me. Stupid them, for dying and leaving me alone and victorious, when they promised we would conquer together, or die trying. Stupid them, for leaving me firm, steadfast, and breathing. What together is there when I am still breathing? Stupid them. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid me, for thinking they were honest. Stupid, for not seeing that in the end everyone leaves me. Stupid, for being so afraid. Stupid me, for believing their promises and stupid me, for knowing that believing was wrong. Stupid, for knowing all along that it would end like this.

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