|posted on 12-Jun-2002 2:54:18 PM by haunted|
|Title: Come to Me|
Couple: M/T (omg I have a rebel side)
Disclaimer: Not Mine. Lyrics are from "C'mon Billy" by PJ Harvey
Description: Tess reflects on what happened, her relationship with Max, her son. I've been wanting to write this for months, and while working on a new polar fic, this came out. Really angsty, and no I'm not sure if I like it at the moment. Nothing after Departure is relevent.
Tess sat in a darkened corner of the jail while tears flowed freely from her eyes, her young son sleeping restlessly in her arms. It had been three months now since she returned home from earth, broken and alone, three months since she had lied to the one man she loved, just so he could feel better about returning to his human girl, his Liz. Secretly she’d hoped, she’d prayed that Max would be able to see through her lie, that there was no plot to deliver the three members of her family to Kivar, but Max had been blinded by his teenage infatuation for little Liz Parker and the strange unproven theory that she was merely a murdering whore. And they’d bought it, who would possibly doubt Ms. Scientist? But she didn’t hate any of them for it, especially not Max and she still waited, each and every day in the hope that he’d wake up.
(Come to me, you know I'm waiting, I love you endlessly)
Zan stirred silently in his mother’s arms, his thick baby fingers grasping at air while she brushed back a stray piece of his dark brown hair and looked down into his wide eyes, her face wrought with conflicting images of sadness and love. Was he merely a figment of Max’s imagination to the rest of earth, would he forever deny the existence of his son’s haunting blue eyes, his wide smile? Had he forgotten about the existence of this beautiful child, had he wanted to forget? It seemed to be the only plausible explanation in her mind, because Max was the kind of man who would search endlessly for someone, if he cared enough. Surely, within three months time Max would have found the secret transport within the Granolith’s walls and would have made his way to Antar to save both his wife and son, or maybe she had been overestimating Max Evans, the boy king, yet again.
(Don't you think it's time now you met your only son?)
She’d dream every night of their time in the observatory, the most beautiful night of her young life, when the sky pulsated from the light that illuminated from the v formation in the sky. She could still feel his strong hands on her chest, the way that his fingertips taunted and teased her nipples, the way his tongue marked the dark recesses of her mouth while they kissed, she’d always remember. The soft, gentle way that he’d entered her, always concerned for her own safety, the way that he’d looked into her crystalline blue eyes when he reached her barrier, silently asking her permission to move forward, the way that he’d taken the pain away moments after he’d moved forward. The way that he’d made sure that she was satisfied, even after he’d buried his seed deep inside of her, the way that he’d marked her, on the inside of her leg, with a glowing silver handprint, sometimes she swore she could still see it shimmer on her skin, other times she swore that she could still smell him on her skin. He’d proclaimed his love, his devotion, over and over that night, silent promises of eternity, which never came, promises that she still clung to even in this dark dungeon while her son cried himself to sleep every night, knowing that his father would never come, but Tess, she still hoped and prayed that he would return to her and take her again and again on a marriage bed.
(I remember lover's play… I remember the things you said… come to your lover's bed)
Months passed, Tess grew older, more haggard, while she clung to the memory of him, the hope that he would return to her, it was almost a year now since Zan had been conceived and still there was no rescue, no word, nothing from Max. That night, the hope that he would return, became the one thing that kept her alive in this darkened cell, the one thing that kept her strong for Zan. He’d grown too, his ears and dark hair would remind her of Max, the goofy grin that he’d given her after learning about their son, he’d been happy, at least up until he learned that Liz was still pure, how fickle of a man was he? Why was it that Max Evans, the man that everyone loved, most of all her, could not realize that she, Tess Harding, was his balance, his sense of stability, why had he refused to see through her lie, when would he realize that his family was on Antar, wasting away in the dungeon?
(Come home is my plea; your home now is here with me)
She never lost her sense of optimism, she knew that it was inevitable that one day be reunited, but she hoped it was soon, she’d heard from a guard that Kivar was restless, that their time was almost up. How would she deal with this, the darkness had begun to humble her, it was filled with memories of Max, their time together, but impending death seemed to steal these away from her. One by one the lines of his forehead, the secret grins, the feel of his hands within hers began to fade from her memory, and it made her ever more desperate. Every night, she’d focus on the memories of the love that she and Max had shared, and try, in vain, to contact him through the faint connection that the two royals shared. She needed Max, the beloved king, to come now, to save her and her son, not because she was afraid of death, Necedo had taken that out of her long ago, but because she wanted a full life for her son, for Max not to suffer the guilt that would accompany their passing.
(Come home to your son, tomorrow might never come)
They were torn from the dark one night, by a cold man with a steely gaze and a frown frozen deep on his face, and placed into the hot Antarian sun, it was summer there, a beautiful day to be outside, a beautiful day to die. It’d been well over a year since Zan had been born and Max had never done anything to save them, had he ever wanted to, or was he too busy playing house with Liz, basking in her humanity when he had none of his own, or had she left him for someone else, for Michael? She looked at her son in desperation, met his wide blue eyes while he squirmed silently in the executioner’s arms, and she sighed, trying desperately to hide her unshed tears. She wondered silently if all of this pain had been worth it, if her love had been in vain, for Max had never done anything to save either of them. Tess was here with her son, awaiting death, in the town square, where foreign hateful eyes watched in expectation, while he was safe at home, still focusing in his reverie, his human half. She felt strong arms lift up her limp body and place her on a podium, where a noose loomed overhead, silently taunting her; when had she gotten so thin, so frail? She felt the cool coil of the rope around her neck, the expressionless gazes of the crowd on her skin and moments before the coil pressed down on her, Tess’ mind was filled again with the memory of their love, of their passionate kisses, the stolen glances, the special smiles. She looked again at her son, who was now crying freely in the hardened man’s arms and whispered, “yes”, reaffirming the path that she had taken to protect her love, even though it had caused her own death and the death of her son.
(Don't forget me I had your son, damn thing went crazy, but I swear you're the only one)
And somehow, over the expanse of space, Max Evans heard her voice and was haunted by her memory and filled with the knowledge that she would be there, in his heart for all of eternity, just as she had promised over a year ago.