FanFic - Other
"What the Lord Giveth..."
Part 2b
by Catlover
Disclaimer: Roswell, the story line and the characters do not belong to me. No, it is the sole property of the WB, the lucky buggers. I only have the current concept and a couple original characters to call my own.
Summary: Following the four square episode, The Federal Government beefs up it's surveillance at the very moment when the Roswell teens are trying to conceal a startling revelation.
Category: Other
Rating: R
Intentionally, Max Evans had chosen a spot where no one would think to look for him. A spot where he could think about his problems alone, without anyone to bother him. Past the steadfast mountain ranges, above a lonely desert, Max sat on a cliff, his feet dangling off the edge. He tossed small stones down and listened to them fall. Suddenly, a presence pulled Max inward toward a psychic plane.

In his mind, Max saw himself standing in the desert, but in the bright light of day not the darkness of night. Max looked around and saw a figure walking quickly toward him. The figure drew closer until Max could make out that it was Tess. Tess walked straight up to Max. Max did not move. He did not speak. After a second, Max stuffed his hands in his pant pockets and looked away, drilling his gaze into the horizon.

Frowning, Tess looked up at Max’s face. Reaching up with her left hand, Tess touched Max’s cheek. An instant connection started between them and Max swayed slightly from the images entering his mind. In a maddening rush, Max saw all the punishment Tess had endured, all the years of pain and abuse. For a second, the true image of Tess flashed before him, causing Max to grimace at the sight of her bloodied and broken body. During an opportunistic moment, Tess reached up on her tiptoes and kissed Max. Dazed from the images, Max never fought back.

Every time Tess touched Max, a flash blinded his sight and muddled his mind. With gentle, albeit confusion inducing touches, Tess slowly pushed Max onto the ground. Between flashes, Max dimly registered that Tess was stripping him of his clothes. In protest, Max tensed, but could not react enough to stop the violation. With determination, Tess discarded the last of Max’s clothes, lowered herself onto him and began a rhythmic rocking. In anguish, Max rocked his head from side to side, but could not free himself from Tess’ mental connection. Rolling off Tess’ rosy cheeks, soft tears landed on Max’s chest, but the warm splashes they created only wounded him more.

Finally, with the act completed, Tess leaned over Max and smoothed his hair. With regret, she whispered, “forgive me” in his ear. Max looked away and watched as the world slowly started to come back into focus. Tess’ high-pitched voice came to him,

“The Feds beat me, Max. They hit me and hurt me until I told them everything. They’re coming after you, Max – you and all the others. Take my advice and do as I do, get away now… Don’t worry about seeing me again, Max, I’m leaving tonight, but I just couldn’t leave empty handed… I hope…you can forgive me someday, Max.”

With that said, Tess stood up and walked away. A few minutes later, the connection was broken and Max found himself sitting on the cliff, fully dressed, but panting hard with his heart racing. After a few moments, Max stood up, brushed the dirt off his pants and ran to his jeep.

He never stopped for a second.

He drove away, never looking back.


After intense mental preparation, Tess reached her mind out to touch the mind of the guard on duty. The predictable protests of his untrained mind did little to stop the attack she brought to bear upon him. It was not long before the Guard was helpless and following Tess’ every command. Slowly, with the jerking responses of a man acting against his will, the guard unlocked the door to her prison and freed Tess from her restraints. Tess took back the keys to her jeep and another large ring of keys that looked vaguely useful.

With a toss of her head, Tess left one final order for the Guard, who trembled outwardly, but also, regarded Tess with eyes filled with venom and hate. Exiting the house, the slightest smile drew across Tess’ features as she heard the gunshot echo into the night. Tess frowned, saddened by the fact that she had missed the event, but as predicted, the shot caused the house alarm to go off, triggering all the doors and windows to lock. Tess continued down the walk and jumped into her jeep. Sliding behind the steering wheel, Tess constructed in her mind the mental image of the guard lying on the floor, his brains splattered on the wall. Grasping onto that happy thought, the slightest smile managed to return to Tess’ lips.

Subterranean Facility # F122674 – October 24, 2000

In the Northeast corner of the compound, a small structure stood. The walls measured thirty feet by forty feet and sported a roof built low to the ground. On the inside of the building, the room’s walls consisted of a long, unbroken sheet of smooth metal over three foot deep walls. The roof consisted of a single slab of one-foot thick concrete. The floor held the only space resembling a portal. Most of the floor was hard concrete, but in one corner, a three-foot wide circle of metal was welded to six-inch metal posts drilled into the concrete. On the outside, the building was painted with the same nondescript off-white paint that every other building in the compound wore. That was not to say that the building was unimportant or lost in the grand scheme.

On the contrary, at that moment, the building might have been the most important building that existed on the facility grounds. In this small building, with a low roof and thick walls, the very basis for this base’s existence presented itself in the huddled forms of three young people. In the corner farthest from the circular portal, the three people cowered on the floor with their backs to the wall. On each of their right arms was the unmistakable wound caused by the violent extraction of blood. They had been stripped and redressed in green scrubs, like those found in hospitals. Cloth slippers were on their feet. All earrings and other such jewelry had been taken. In this way, every exit had been eliminated.

In the middle of the small group, Maria stared into empty space. To Maria’s left, Liz sat, leaning against Maria. Liz’s shoulders shook and tears ran freely down her face. Liz brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. Slowly, Liz began to rock as Maria mindlessly rubbed her back. Absently, Maria started to rub her head against the shoulder of the young man sitting to her right. Concerned, Maria raised her head and looked up into the vacant eyes and at the grim lips of Alex Whitman.


In another part of the compound, Isabel and Michael were being led from a small cell into a large interrogation room. The classic faux-green marble Formica floors shined back dull and unreflecting. In the center of the room, two simple metal and plastic chairs, like those found in schools were situated about two feet from each other. Michael and Isabel had never been stripped and were still wearing their street clothes. As instructed, they sat down in the chairs and looked down at the floor. Concentrating, Isabel closed her eyes and tried to extend her mind. She had to know if they had Max yet. She stretched out further and further. In a distant place, she touched Max’s familiar mind. The moment was fleeting.

A sudden slamming of a door brought her back to the present world and caused her and Michael to look up at the intruding sound. The person who entered the room was another man dressed in another black suit. Standing before them for effect, the man addressed them, “You should know that we have all of your friends already. In fact, tests

are being run right now. In a matter of minutes, what we suspect will be confirmed. In the mean time, you both can make things much simpler for yourselves by telling us everything you know. Hmm?”

Michael and Isabel glanced at each other, confused. The man continued, “Don’t try to be

coy. You have been seen in the presence of one Tess Harding. We know what she is. Now, you can be cooperative and nothing bad will happen to you or you can try to impede our investigation and we will be forced to take more…drastic measures.”

Without thinking, Isabel’s hands settled onto her abdomen in a protective manner. A cautionary look from Michael made Isabel realize her error. Too late, Isabel placed her hands on her knees and held on tight. The cover was, indeed, too late to keep the black-clad agent from noticing the play of gestures. Retreating, the agent opened the door and motioned to unseen people. Holding the door open, the agent let five military soldiers, decked out in fatigues and stern expressions, enter the interrogation room. Quickly, he ordered that Isabel and Michael be restrained.

Held back by two soldiers, Michael watched as the agent approached Isabel. Isabel attempted to squirm away from the agent but was held firmly in place by a set of strong hands on each arm. An evil grin covered the agent’s face as he reached out to undo Isabel’s jeans.

“Let’s see what it is you’re hiding.”

Inside Michael, a fragile control snapped as he watched the agent grin. All the years of never being protected, all the years of neglect, all the times he said to himself that his child would never feel that way, surged forth. With inhuman strength, Michael forced the soldiers holding him to fly backwards. He jumped at the agent, landing a painful punch squarely on the black-clad man’s jaw. At once, three soldiers descended on Michael, forcing him to the floor. They punched and kicked at his curled up body. Isabel watched in horror as Michael was beaten. She screamed for the soldiers to stop.

“Please, stop.”

Finally, the soldiers stopped their acts of battery and pulled Michael to his feet. Out of glazed eyes, Michael watched the agent, once again, approach Isabel. This time, the agent succeeded in opening Isabel’s jeans. Shockingly, the green glow filled the room. With fear, Isabel looked into the unbelieving agent’s eyes. Jerking his head up, the agent stared at Isabel. Open-mouthed, the agent conveyed his contempt very well. Quickly, he reached up, tightly gripping Isabel’s neck and spit out, “What did you do,

fuck one of them? (Confusion joined Isabel’s already fear-filled eyes. The Agent let go of Isabel and stepped back for a moment.) No, you are one of them.”

Though she tried not to, Isabel’s eyes couldn’t help flashing a confirmation to the agent’s statement. Michael started to struggle again but was too weak to be very effective. The agent turned and made the same statement to Michael. Michael’s face offered no confirmation, like Isabel’s had, however, neither did it present a denial. Shaking his head, the agent issued his orders, “Put him with the others. This one – take

her to the lab. I think some special tests need to be run on her.”

Struggling harder at the man’s words, Michael received another hail of blows for it. Isabel screamed and fought against the soldiers but couldn’t stop them from dragging her out of the room. Isabel looked over her shoulder and begged for help. For help from anybody that could hear her, from Michael’s pain-filled eyes. That look of complete fear and madness was the last Michael saw of Isabel before she was pulled around the corner, but her screams continued to be heard by Michael as he was forced down a hall leading in the opposite direction.

Roswell, NM – October 24, 2000

Pulling up to the curb, Max jumped out of his jeep and raced up the two flights of stairs that led to Michael’s studio apartment. Frantically, Max slammed on the wood door of the apartment, pounding loudly to the point that wary neighbors opened their doors a crack to investigate. Panting heavily, Max sped to the Crashdown Café. Outside Liz’s bedroom, Max spied Liz’s parents speaking animatedly. After one especially nasty exchange, Liz’s Mother slumped onto Liz’s bed, her head in her hands, slowly rocking. Max saw and heard enough to know that someone who said he was a police officer had taken Liz. Max turned away from the window and walked slowly to the jeep. Without direction, Max lost all momentum. Sliding into the driver’s seat, Max crossed his arms over the steering wheel and rested his head on his arms.

A few minutes later, Max again felt the inward tugging of his inner psyche. Fearful of it being Tess, Max resisted the beacon until a familiar feeling invaded him.


Instantly, Max pushed into the feeling. Max felt Isabel’s fear and confusion. He sensed Michael nearby. He saw the empty room. Max experienced a flashback of Isabel’s memories. The military installation’s entry point loomed before him. Max realized he knew where they were. He recognized the place as one he had hiked around many times when the questions of his origins would echo in his ears. Max pushed further into the link and tried to tell Isabel he knew where she was, but a slamming door interrupted him and sent him spiraling back into consciousness. With renewed purpose, Max turned the ignition key and put the car in gear. Speeding away, Max wondered how he was ever going to help his friends.

Forty-eight miles later, Max scrambled over a rocky ridge and looked out over the military camp where his friends were being held. Approaching the electrified fence, Max searched for a way in. At a fence poll, Max found a locked power box. Focusing his power, Max touched the lock causing the door of the box to fly open. The power box contained a series of labeled switches each connected to two key locks. Suspiciously, Max picked up two keys that had been carefully placed at the bottom of the power box. For a second, the possibility of a trap flashed through Max’s mind, but, in resignation, Max realized that he could think of no other way to enter the facility.

Taking a deep breath, Max slid the keys into the keyholes connected to the switch labeled “Fence Shut Off.” Max turned the keys simultaneously. A minute passed before the audible buzzing caused by the electricity ceased. Closing the power box, Max threw a key at the fence and watched it hit the inter-locking metal, bouncing off. No spark lit the night. A good sign. Starting at the dirt floor, Max ran his finger up the fence in an arc, efficiently melting the metal. Pushing the fence open, Max entered the facility and ran to a nearby building.

Covertly, Max sprinted between buildings. Without direction, Max made his way through the compound. A familiar sound pointed Max northeast. Glancing around a corner, Max saw Michael being taken into one of the many buildings. Max followed close behind. Keeping a cautionary distance between Michael’s captors and himself, Max trailed the soldiers down a flight of stairs, down a long hallway and into a small chamber holding a hollow, circular, metal tube. Max watched as Michael was first stripped, then forced into green scrubs and finally shoved into the tube. A door slid into place capturing Michael. Slowly, the tube ascended. Max watched as one of the soldiers worked the controls.


Isabel’s screams still echoed through Michael’s ears while he was lifted up in the tube. Michael knocked his head against the tube side until, finally, the lift came to a stop. As the door slid open, Michael opened his eyes to see Maria across from him. Happy for an instant, Michael quickly pushed such feelings aside once electrical shocks started running through his body. Fighting against the electrical charges, Michael pulled himself away from the pain, crashing to the floor outside the tube. At once, the door to the tube slid closed and the lift descended.

Instantly, Maria jumped up and crossed the couple of feet separating her from Michael. She clutched at his shoulders and turned him over. Michael moaned in pain and weakly opened his eyes. Closely inspecting Michael for any damage, Maria saw the bruises on his face, deep red now, which would soon darken. Michael looked into Maria’s eyes and saw the sorrow there. Glancing over, Michael noticed the ugly mark on her arm. Wincing, he placed both of his hands on Maria’s face and wiped away a few stray tears with his thumbs. Maria closed her eyes and allowed Michael to pull her down until she could feel his lips pressing against her own.

Lips parting, the two dove into each other’s eyes. They held back the damn of their feelings only for an instant. With a trembling lip, Maria laid her head on Michael’s chest and succumbed to her tears. Michael held her tightly while his own floodgates opened. Like that night long ago, Maria soothingly rubbed Michael’s arms while the tremors of grief ran through his body. Unlike that night long ago, the comfort was returned to her in the form of a series of soft kisses on the top of her head and a soothing hand running up and down her back.


Slowly, Michael focused on the voice calling his name. Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hands, Maria rose up and scooted back a little. Michael turned over, got up on his hands and knees and lifted his gaze to the worried countenance of one Alex Whitman.

Part 1 | Index | Part 2c
Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours
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