|posted on 3-Jul-2002 9:46:35 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Hey, I'm back and with another Dark Angel fic. This one, however, is not the sequel to Common Ground; it's just something I had bouncing around in my head and needed to get on paper. As with my other one, this is a polar fic; what can I say, it's just about all I have on my brain these days. Hope that you enjoy it, let me know if you don't.|
A Dark Angel/ Roswell Crossover
Disclaimer: In reality I don't own anything about either show, but in my dreams Brendan Fehr is mine.
"Damn it," he cursed under his breath. He was only twelve years old, he wasn't supposed to be dealing with this shit. "Why can't I have a home and a family? What did I do to deserve this life?" he yelled to the empty desert sky.
Muttering incoherent syllables and various words of profanity, Michael thought about the reason he was seeking refuge in the middle of a sweltering wasteland. Halting in the sand, Michael wrinkled his forehead in concentration as he recalled his wakeup greeting, a particularly hard toss to his bedroom floor. The morning had progressed from there; Michael had gotten to be the recipient of another pleasant round with his assigned guardian's prizefighting fists. The siege on Michael's body only ended when Hank passed out on the couch. Michael wasted no time in getting away from the place that was declared his home. If he hadn't left the trailer, something bad would have happened, something that would demonstrate his otherworldly status. Nothing held Michael there, so he fled.
Choices were limited in regards to asylum; Michael could either leave town for a few days or approach his so-called family. They would take him in, he was sure, but they would pity and mother him, which was not something that he wanted or needed. Michael fingered the dark purple bruise that adorned his cheek; Max and Isabel definitely wouldn't understand. They had kind, loving parents, were surrounded everyday by friends and had the support they needed to successfully carry out their lives. His only blessings were the rags clothing his back, chronic beatings and enormous amounts of pent-up rage.
Michael couldn't wait until he could leave Roswell behind, far behind. Right now, though, Max and Isabel needed him here; so he stayed. Stayed and cursed himself to a world of perpetual beatings and verbal abuse. "I will find a way out of here," Michael screamed as he shood his fists in the air, "even if it's not to my home." Michael made a solemn promise to himself that he would keep his word but, at the moment, he needed to find shelter from the blistering sun. Looking into the horizon, Michael recognized a familiar outcropping and started to walk towards it.
No one would miss him for a couple of days and that would give him time to calm down and compose himself; to somewhat relieve his taxed emotions. It was more than likely that the authorities wouldn't even start looking for him until a week had passed, so he had plenty of time. Michael sneered at the thought, his foster father wouldn't know he was gone until he had to get off his fat ass and retrieve his own beer out of the fridge.
Anger continued to flow unhindered in Michael's young body, threatening to spill his alien powers out through his fingertips. Screaming in rage, Michael brought his hands out until they were directly in front of his body. Only intending to release a small amount of the building pressure, Michael blinked in surprise when the boulder that he had been aiming at exploded into thousands of shards. Taking a deep breath, Michael fought to harness the energy only to find he could not contain it. Regardless of the sizable discharge, the destructive energy still coursed beneath his flesh.
Unable to control the energy any longer, Michael gave up completely, directing it to the rocks and bushes that surrounded him. The dry shrubbery burst into flames and the stones burst violently around him. Finally, spent, he collapsed to the ground in the settling dust taking in ragged gasps of air. When his breathing had returned to normal, Michael glanced around to see the extent of havoc that he had wreaked. Looking over to where a large slab of stone had once stood, Michael shook his head forlornly then jumped to his feet when he noticed a figure standing before him.
[ edited 17time(s), last at 18-Aug-2002 2:13:05 PM ]
|posted on 5-Jul-2002 12:24:36 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Raising his hand in front of his body, Michael made a half-hearted attempt to defend himself. When the creature made no movement in his direction, Michael lowered the trembling arm back to his side and tried to discern what sort of animal it was. It was alone, stood upright on two legs, he observed, and it had probably been hiding behind one of the various boulders that he had destroyed. He was pretty sure that it had seen his display, yet it didn't seem to be scared of him. Michael thought he could be mistaken, but the creature looked to be a girl; a young girl, one that looked no more then ten years old.|
The girl's form was clad in dirty gray rags that barely covered her body and she was bare foot. The exposed portions of flesh that Michael could see were filthy and blood stained her bare feet. Her hair was shoulder length and choppy, like it had been cut with a blunt object; the hair was dirty but appeared to be colored a dark brown. Finally, meeting her steady stare, Michael saw that her eyes were tinted a rich chocolate hue and demonstrated an intensity and awareness that he had never before seen. They were unfriendly, showing only icy determination and contempt for the situation.
A debate was running through Michael's mind; he had no idea as to what he was supposed to do. It was obvious that the girl needed help and, taking a note as to the thinness of her frame, food. But what was she doing here? She couldn't be another alien, could she? Surely someone would have found her by now; she couldn't have been wandering about the desert for six years. Maybe he should get Max and Isabel, Michael thought, they would probably know what to do.
Shaking his head, Michael broke his reverie and made up his mind. Deciding that he would help the girl first and then go get his friends, Michael took a determined step forward. That appeared to be the wrong move, he watched as the girl tensed then launched into action. Her form was a blur as she raced towards him, knocking Michael to the ground.
Michael attempted to right himself but was forced back down. He felt his body being roughly rolled over until he rested on his stomach and his hands were secured behind his back. Trying to withhold his rage, Michael struggled to release himself from his captor only to find his wrists locked in an iron grip. Fear crept over Michael threatening to overcome all of his senses. The rage that Michael held within his body transformed into pure energy and forced a path out of his hands. Immediately, the person that had been holding him down was gone and he was free.
Jumping quickly to his feet, Michael scanned the area looking for the culprit. A prone figure lay face down several yards away, apparently unconscious after colliding with one of the few remaining boulders. Cautiously, Michael made his way over to the body unsure as to her condition. He wanted to discern whether she was unconscious or just trying to catch him with his guard down.
Approaching the girl, Michael nudged her timidly with his foot receiving no response. Feeling a little braver, he knelt down beside her and tentatively pressed his fingers to the side of her neck. She had a strong pulse but showed no signs of waking. Michael let out a sigh of relief and looked to his hands, realizing that he could have killed her.
Michael stood up to leave taking one last look at the figure splayed across the desert floor. Against his better judgement, Michael felt sorry for this girl. She can't be human, he thought, they can't move that fast and don't have the quick reflexes that she demonstrated. Max and Isabel were just going to have to wait; he had to do something to help this girl. It was pretty obvious that she'd had as rough of a life as he had, if not worse. Michael shuddered at that thought.
Kneeling down again, Michael made to roll the girl over onto her back when he noticed a tattoo that was partially hidden beneath her shaggy hair. Reaching out, Michael brushed the hair off of her neck to see it more clearly; the tattoo was a barcode. Michael grazed it with his fingertips and was instantly overwhelmed with a barrage of flashes.
*Flash* Standing in barracks surrounded by several other children. They were all dressed identically in military fatigues and sporting shaved heads. Each child had a unique barcode of its own.
*Flash* Running through a forest and tripping over a log. Getting back up and racing to a fence. Feeling a bullet fly by his shoulder. Finally jumping and clearing the fence. A sense of freedom was flooding his brain.
*Flash* Scrounging in garbage cans for food.
*Flash* Fighting off men intent on harming him.
*Flash* Hiding in the back of a truck. Heading south, thinking maybe he'd be able to evade capture if he got further away.
*Flash* Watching a boy in awe as he lost control of his temper and destroyed his shelter.
Jerking his hand back abruptly, Michael fell to the ground gasping. What was that? She's not an alien, he thought, but he didn't know what she was. The flashes startled him; he hadn't been expecting them. This tiny girl was more than she seemed; some secret was buried in the recesses of her brain. What was she running from?
Michael heard a muffled groan from the girl. Making certain that he did not touch any more of her exposed skin, Michael rolled her over to lie on her back. Her eyes slowly opened and methodically scanned her surroundings before coming to rest on Michael. Fixing the girl with his gaze, Michael noted that her eyes were narrowed suspiciously and contained a dangerous glint that was warning him to back off.
Before Michael could stop her, the girl had raised her body off the ground and had crab-walked away quickly. Dropping about ten feet away, Michael watched curiously as she raised a shaky hand to the back of her head and then slowly withdrew it. As he continued to observe the girl, her body relaxed and fell limply to the ground. It was then that he noticed what had drawn the girl's attention; her fingers were covered with fresh blood. Overcoming the last bit of hesitation that he held, Michael stood up and ran over to the girl. He had done this to her, the least he could do was tend to the injury. Was that all he was good for, he thought angrily, destruction?
Picking up the girl's flaccid body, Michael cradled her to his chest. Moving as hastily as possible, Michael made his way to a small stream. Once again Michael noted how thin she was; her ribs were very prominent beneath his fingers. When Michael reached his destination, he lay the girl gently on the ground beside the water. Carefully, Michael scooped some water into his hands and used it to clean the open wound on her head. Smoothing back the hair to examine the injury more closely, Michael found that it had already begun to scab over.
Puzzlement spread across Michael's features. Now he knew she wasn't human; their bodies could not heal that quickly. Michael scratched his eyebrow and shrugged; it made no difference to him, he was determined to aid the girl no matter what she turned out to be.
Hauling the girl once again in his arms, Michael moved her into a nearby cavern that he sometimes used as a private getaway. The cave had already been provisioned with wood and matches for the cold desert nights; Michael had prepared it for days such as this one. Dropping his backpack into the dirt, Michael sat down and propped his back up against the wall of the cavern. What had he gotten himself into, he thought, he needed to learn to control his temper. Releasing a frustrated sigh, Michael turned to watch the girl as she lay sleeping. Unwillingly, his eyes drifted shut and he was enveloped in the darkness of sleep and unpleasant dreams.
[ edited 3 time(s), last at 6-Jul-2002 9:59:24 PM ]
|posted on 5-Jul-2002 9:56:45 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Thanks for reading!!! Here's two short parts, I'll post more tomorrow.|
Sensing a presence hovering over him, Michael opened his eyes. The girl was standing beside Michael, looking at him warily. Slowly, so he didn't spook her, Michael raised his hands in a harmless manner to show that he was not a threat. Noticing that she looked at his hands suspiciously, Michael took a little initiative and spoke to her, "My name is Michael. I won't hurt you; I just want to help."
The girl did not reply to Michael's statement and her defensive stance failed to change. Michael tried again, "Do you understand me?" He still elicited no response from her.
"Are you hungry? I have food," he tried. This time her expression altered slightly and a fleeting light filled her eyes. Poor thing, he thought, he knew what it was like not to trust anyone. Michael reached for his backpack and the girl jumped away nervously. "It's okay," he said. "The food is in there."
Unzipping the bag, Michael extracted a Snickers bar and held it out to her. He watched her hesitate before opting to forego the candy. Michael shrugged at the girl and placed the chocolate in between them before grabbing another from his backpack. Tearing at the wrapper on his bar, Michael heard the girl rush over and grab the one lying on the floor. Grinning at her as she tore into her own package, Michael bit off a section of his dinner.
When had he grown this patient and caring? There was just something about this girl that called out to him. Maybe they were kindred spirits being punished in this life for transgressions in the past. Maybe he was lonely and seeking out some sort of friendship. Maybe he was tired of being an emotionless stonewall and she was the key needed to fill some gap in his life. Whatever the reasoning, Michael was not going to leave her alone out in the desert.
Four days had passed while Michael and his self-declared ward were holed up out on the arid plain. Since the first day, the girl had begun to demonstrate a more trusting nature towards Michael. She made no attempt to run away and even helped gather firewood for the chilly nights. Michael spoke to her repeatedly finding a welcome solace in his new companion, but she still hadn't uttered a word. Her actions, however, made it evident to him that she understood what he was saying.
"I'm going to have to leave tomorrow morning," he told her. "We're running out of food and I need to check in with my foster father." Noticing the dejected look on the girl's face, Michael continued, "I'll be back before nightfall though, unless, of course, you want to come with me."
Vigorously, the girl shook her head no. "I really didn't think you would, but it was worth a shot. I'm going to try to round up some new clothes for you, too, and some soap so that you can wash up in the stream out front. Do you think you'll be okay while I'm out?" Michael asked. He was a little hesitant to leave her in the cave but he wasn't going to force her to leave.
The girl nodded her head slowly in response to the question then settled down to sleep for the night. Michael kept watch over her prone form for a little while before turning in himself. Softly he whispered, "I only wish that I knew your name."
Not expecting an answer or aware that he could be heard, Michael closed his eyes and prepared to be sucked into another nightmare. He jerked himself into a sitting position, however, when he heard the girl utter quietly, "Liz."
[ edited 2 time(s), last at 6-Jul-2002 9:59:59 PM ]
|posted on 6-Jul-2002 10:02:58 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Just wanted to let everyone know that I changed my title from On the Run to I Disappear. If anyone is interested in my continuation of this story, let me know and I'll post more tonite.|
|posted on 7-Jul-2002 12:34:21 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|"What?" Michael asked, shocked. Surely he was hearing things. He had imagined the girl speaking to him.|
"I said my name is Liz," she repeated hesitantly, sitting up on her side of the cave and meeting his eyes.
Michael paused for a moment; not sure how to continue this conversation, if that's what it was. "Liz," he said liking the way it rolled out of his mouth. "I thought that you couldn't speak."
"It's pretty obvious to both of us that I can; I just choose to who and when. I haven't had the best of luck in finding people that don't intend any harm towards me. I've grown accustomed to blocking everything out over the years."
Sounds like someone I know, he thought. "So why are you talking to me? What does it mean?"
"I'm talking to you because I trust you," she said, "and...."
"And what?" Michael urged.
"Because I'm tired of being lonely. I haven't had a conversation in about two years."
Michael gaped at Liz, "Two years, you haven't spoken to anyone in two years."
"I think I'm beginning to remember why," she replied wryly.
"Well then, let's make the most of the night, Liz," Michael said a rare smile curling on his lips. "What would you like to talk about?"
"I hadn't really thought about it," she said chuckling. Michael thought that he could grow to love that sound; he didn't suspect that she laughed often. "What's it like living in Roswell?"
"I wouldn't really know, I haven't lived here all that long. I've been bounced around from home to home since I was six. None of them really good experiences." Michael was uncomfortable with her choice of topics and tried to shift gears. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me what you are doing out hiding out here in the desert?"
Liz scowled at Michael and her mouth curved into a frown. "Nothing you need to know, not unless you want to tell me how you were able to make those rocks explode?"
Fidgeting, Michael raised his hand and scratched his eyebrow. "Okay, you keep your secrets and I'll keep mine. Why don't we tackle the smaller hills first?"
Michael and Liz talked well into the night until he could no longer keep his eyes open. Drifting off to sleep, Michael smiled knowing that he had found a friend. Liz was smart and great to talk to; he had never met anyone like her.
Upon waking the next morning, Michael discovered that Liz was gone. The only indication that she had been there was a 'Thank You' that was written in the dirt where she had slept. Michael rubbed out the words gently, a sad smile on his face. Liz is gone, he thought, and she won't be back.
|posted on 7-Jul-2002 5:57:04 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|posted on 8-Jul-2002 10:27:06 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Seven Years Later:|
Michael scowled down at the grill that he was scrubbing. He hated closing the Crashdown, but he took the extra hours when they were offered. Anything to keep his mind off of his pathetic life; he was still struggling to survive in Roswell after all those long years thinking about and planning escape. It wasn't as though he hadn't considered leaving; Michael just didn't know where he would go. Max and Isabel, the only family that he had on this planet, wouldn't leave their human family and he could not abandon them.
Slamming his hands on the counter behind him, Michael winced in pain as he remembered the past year. High school graduation had come and gone with plans to start community college in the fall. His relationship with Maria was going strong; he'd thought that they couldn't be more in love. The summer passed by in a pretty uneventful manner then Maria left to attend college out on the East Coast. Michael had started his own classes and it was all going according to plan; that was until all hell broke loose.
In December, a division of the FBI had managed to track down Michael and his friends. The confrontation was messy, to say the least, and he had barely made it out alive. Michael had tried to go back to his classes afterwards but found that the skirmish had interrupted his finals. Needless to say, Michael flunked out.
To occupy his time, Michael had taken on a second job working as a security guard in a pharmaceutical company. Michael immersed himself in his work attempting to forget his efforts in the small battle; the people that he killed and the utter desolation that he had suffered afterwards. As it turned out, his newfound dedication to work was the final blow to his relationship with Maria. She had returned in the summer and discovered that he had little free time. They lasted another month before Maria called it quits leaving him for some guy she met at school.
Michael growled at no one in particular and clenched his hands into fists. Ripping off his apron and bandana, he threw them into his locker then bolted out the door, locking it behind him. Why couldn't he just get his life back to some semblance of order, Michael screamed silently in his head.
Slamming the door behind him, Michael charged into his apartment and grabbed a drink out of the refrigerator. Chugging the beverage, Michael tried to calm his body down then threw the bottle across the room shattering it against the opposite wall. Michael took a deep calming breath, he didn't need to lose control; he wasn't sure that his apartment could take the damage again.
Deciding that a shower might help ease the tension, Michael worked his way to the bathroom. Turning the stream on full blast, he stripped out of his soiled clothing and stepped into the water. Slowly the cool water eased the tautness out of his weary muscles. Sighing, Michael moved out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist.
Leaning over the counter, Michael chanced a look at his image in the mirror; his eyes were tired, like he'd finally given up hope on everything. Frustrated, he drove his fist into the glass and destroyed his reflection; instantly Michael felt better. Looking down to observe the descent of blood running in rivulets over his hand, Michael thought, when had he given up? He had lost himself somewhere along his chosen path and didn't like where he had ended up. Sighing, he decided that it was time to make a change. He didn't have to be miserable; he would do something about it before it was too late. Yeah buddy, he thought, just keep telling yourself that.
Letting another sigh escape his mouth, Michael wrapped a towel around his damaged hand and walked into his bedroom. Halting abruptly in the doorway, Michael noticed a small female form lying across his unmade bed. What is she doing here? How did she get in? And, most importantly, who the hell is she?
Raising his hand in defense, Michael angrily spoke to the girl, "Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?"
The woman rolled over to her back stiffly and met his accusing gaze. "It's good to see you too, Michael."
Those eyes, I know them, he thought. The chocolate brown orbs glared at him, daring Michael to try something. The intensity and determination of her gaze startled him; he hadn't seen that in a long time. Where had he seen it before? Finally, Michael connected his disjointed thoughts. "Liz?" he asked hopefully.
|posted on 9-Jul-2002 12:21:39 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|"So you didn't forget about me?" Liz asked tiredly, the hardness in her eyes ebbing away to be replaced with...pain?|
"Where have you been? What happened to you?" Michael rambled excitedly. "I thought that I would never see you again and now you just show up out of nowhere? What has it been, seven years?"
"Michael, please," she gasped. "Can the questions wait? I need your help."
"Why should I help you?" he asked roughly. "You disappeared without so much as a good-bye," Michael rasped, his anger unrestrained and flowing into his voice. "Did you know that I kept returning to that cave hoping that you would be there? I only stopped my pilgrimages two years ago."
"I knew this was a mistake; I'm just going to go," Liz said her voice strained. Michael watched as Liz stood up beside the bed and began to shuffle to the door. It wasn't until she reached the door that he noticed the blood stains on his sheets.
Flicking his eyes back up to Liz, Michael observed that she was tired, worn out and had an unhealthy pallor; she looked like she could barely stand. Liz's black leather clothing was ripped displaying deep lacerations and long, bloody scrapes all over her body. "My God, Liz," Michael gasped, "you're bleeding. What the hell happened to you?"
As he watched, Liz's eyes rolled back in her head and she sagged to the floor. Michael rushed over to her side, a sense of deja vu overcoming him; can't this girl stay out of trouble, he thought. After positioning Liz on his bed, Michael went back into the bathroom to retrieve a cool cloth.
Bathing Liz's face with the washcloth, Michael managed to return her to consciousness. "What do I need to do, Liz?" he asked, no longer angry.
"I've lost a lot of blood, but don't worry about that right now," she said weakly, "I'll be okay once I can start healing. I just couldn't reach around to remove them from my body."
"Remove what from your body?" he asked worriedly.
"The bullets," she replied noticeably wincing.
|posted on 11-Jul-2002 11:38:39 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Michael gasped and rolled Liz over onto her stomach to seek out the injuries. "There's one lodged in the lower left side of my back and another in my right shoulder. I need you to take them out."|
"I can't do that, I don't know how," he said animatedly. "Why don't we take you to he hospital?"
Michael felt Liz tense beneath him; he was certain that if he hadn't been holding her down with both of his hands she would have run out of the room. "I can't go to the hospital," she said firmly. "They'll be looking for me there."
Who'd be looking for her there? Was she talking about the people that shot her? If there was anything that he remembered from his short time with Liz, it was that she was stubborn. Sighing in resignation, Michael told her, "Let me go call a friend, he'll be able to do this better then I can."
"No," Liz growled. "Please I can't involve anyone else. I came to you, Michael, because you helped me all those years ago and I knew that I could trust you."
"All right," Michael said releasing a deep, shaky breath, "but you are going to have to talk me through this. I don't have any idea what to do. I've never had to deal with someone that has been shot before. My medical knowledge is limited to aspirin and Band-Aids."
"I dropped my bag on the other side of the bed. Open it up and you'll find a first aid kit in it."
Michael retrieved her backpack and grabbed the kit. "Pull out the gauze, tweezers and a knife. The bullet wounds have started to close over so you'll need to open them back up. Once you do that, take the tweezers and use them to extract the slugs. You'll probably need a little bit more light and we might want to move somewhere that will be easier to clean up. I'm going to be bleeding pretty profusely before you're done."
Quickly throwing on some clothes, Michael then moved to help Liz walk into the kitchen. Together they removed her damaged articles of clothing and laid her face down on the table. Michael arranged the needed items on the counter beside him and tried to get a grip on his raging emotions. "Are you sure about this?" he asked nervously. "We don't have any type of anesthesia and the only disinfectant I have is an unopened bottle of Seagram's Seven."
"I have a high pain tolerance," Liz replied raising her head to look at Michael. "Now stop stalling and get to operating; I'm not going to be able to remain conscious for much longer."
Liz lay her head back down to the tabletop and Michael took that as his cue. Picking up the knife and some gauze, Michael took a deep breath then located the first bullet hole on Liz's shoulder. Timidly, he inserted the tip of the blade into her skin expecting some sort of reaction; Liz didn't move. More confidently, Michael cut the wound open then grabbed the tweezers. Pressing the gauze to the freely bleeding injury, he used the tweezers to explore the entrance that he had made. After much searching, Michael found the slug and pulled it out of Liz's body. Surprisingly enough, he didn't feel like retching.
Michael disinfected and bandaged the area before addressing Liz. "Are you still with me? I got the first one out and now I'm going to do the other."
"Enough chit chat," she said impatiently, "just remove the damn thing."
Scanning for the second bullet hole, Michael located it on the upper swell of her left buttock. Carefully, he repeated his procedure and removed the offending metal from Liz's body. Upon finishing, Michael discovered that Liz had succumbed to sleep. Taking the opportunity, he searched Liz's body for any other wounds. The deep gashes that he found on her abdomen, arms and legs were already stitched up; Michael could only assume that she had sewn the neat sutures herself. Michael cleaned and dressed all of her other injuries before moving Liz off the table.
Shaking his head, Michael gently picked Liz up and carried her back to his bedroom. Once again he wondered what he had gotten himself into.
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 16-Jul-2002 11:30:17 AM ]
|posted on 11-Jul-2002 11:44:46 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Updated today but the story didn't get bumped so I took it upon myself to fix that.|
|posted on 16-Jul-2002 11:29:29 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Michael had been sitting and watching Liz while she slept. It had been a couple of hours and he was getting restless. He had no idea what she was running from or who had shot her. He needed answers. Picking her backpack off of the floor, Michael brought it over to his chair so that he could rifle through it; maybe he would find his answers there.|
Nothing out of the ordinary in here, he thought. Drawing out the items that he found, Michael placed them in a pile and took a mental inventory: a spare set of clothes, ID ~ says her name is Liz Parker ~, keys ~ funny, he thought, they look like they'd start a motorcycle ~, some money ~ both dollars and pesos ~. Aside from the ID, there were no personal effects or clues to her situation.
Reaching the bottom of the bag, Michael felt something cool and hard brush against his fingertips. Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his hand around the object and slowly drew it out of the bag. Michael nearly dropped it in shock; it was a semi-automatic .45 and it looked to be Government Issue.
What the hell is a kid doing with this weapon? Liz can't be more than seventeen, he thought, she has no reason to own a gun. Michael decided that, until he knew Liz's intent, he would keep a hold of the gun. Standing, Michael tucked the pistol into the waistband of his pants and then covered it with his button down shirt. Settling back into his seat, Michael placed all of the other items back into the bag and then returned to watching Liz while she slept.
After about eighteen hours, Liz had still not wakened from her slumber. Michael hoped that he was doing the right thing by keeping her there, but he had made a promise and he intended to keep it. Deciding that he should check on the wounds, Michael approached her sleeping form, unable to keep out the thoughts rolling through his mind. Guilt was overwhelming him; Michael thought that he should have tried to heal Liz with his powers, but begrudgingly acknowledged that they were just too unpredictable. Instead of healing the injuries, Michael might have accidentally caused more.
Silently cursing his ineptitude, Michael pulled the sheet that was covering Liz's body down to just below her waist. Leaning over to examine the bullet entrance, Michael pulled the bandage off then jerked back in surprise. The wound that had been open and bleeding freely just a day before was now closed, a fresh layer of pink skin covering it. Quickly, he checked the other puncture and found that it, too, was healing nicely, in fact, much faster than it should have been.
Making short work of the rest of Liz's bandages, Michael found that the smaller cuts and abrasions had disappeared, leaving perfect, flawless skin. He had thought for sure that Liz would have dozens of scars scattered over her body. Trailing his hands over the exposed skin, Michael let amazement and curiosity flood his features. What is she? Michael thought, she's not human, that was a fact in which he was certain.
Michael was knocked out of his interior monologue when he felt the body beneath him respond to his touch. Liz arched provocatively into the gentle caress of his hands, soft moans escaping her lips. Suppressing the urge to continue with his ministrations, Michael slowly withdrew his hands and watched Liz roll over onto her back.
Catching the lust-filled gaze that Liz was giving him, Michael backed up a step. Sticking out her lip in a pout that he found quite adorable and arousing, Liz asked, "Why did you stop? You felt wonderful."
Stuttering, Michael replied the words rushing out, "I don't know you all that well. It just wouldn't be right. I don't want you to think that you owe me anything just because I helped you."
"How...gentlemanly," she said laughing, "but what does all that have to do with sex. We're both consenting adults and I'm very much in the mood."
He hadn't expected Liz to be so forward; Michael didn't know what to tell Liz so he just stared at her, his mouth open widely and his heart beating rapidly.
"Oh come now," she said laughing heartily, "the cat got your tongue." Michael managed to close his mouth; he wondered what private joke she was making. "Michael, don't worry; I was just kidding, unless, of course, you were interested?" she said crawling towards him.
|posted on 17-Jul-2002 8:10:03 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|posted on 24-Jul-2002 5:32:29 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|A beautiful young woman was asking Michael if he wanted to have sex; not just any woman, he thought, Liz. Right here, right now, in his bedroom on her hands and knees was a fantasy that he never thought could be fulfilled, with a woman that he thought he would never see again. Michael was speechless; how could he possibly say anything to disrupt the moment, he might wake up and find this all a dream. As his heartbeat sped up, Michael struggled to find some words, any words, to answer Liz but could only stand frozen before her nude body, slowly opening and closing his mouth.|
"No?" Liz said shrugging, "your loss, I guess. I'm pretty wild in the sack." Michael gulped loudly and silently berated himself for letting the opportunity pass. "Well," Liz said standing up beside the bed seemingly unaware of her nudity, "if you'll tell me where my clothes and bag are, I'll get out of your way."
Michael's eyes grew wide as Liz began to stalk around the room looking for her belongings. Her hair was much longer then he remembered and he wanted to wrap himself up in it, letting the silky texture caress his naked body. Shuddering involuntarily and continuing to study the long brown waves, Michael noticed that the ends of her tresses brushed the top of her perfectly shaped rear end and swayed over it tantalizingly. On the front of her body, the thickness of her mane barely covered her breasts, the rose colored nipples peaking out alluringly. Never knew that a woman's hair could be so damn sexy, Michael thought a grin forming on his face.
Holding his breath, Michael's eyes followed Liz's naked form across his room. Entranced by the gentle sway of her hips and her very firm ass, Michael vaguely perceived that Liz was no longer walking with the pain and stiffness that she had the day before. Immediately, Michael ceased his voyeurism and remembered that he had lots of questions for her.
As Liz pulled on a shirt, he asked, "So are you going to tell me what happened?"
Observing Liz flick her eyes up to his quickly, Michael heard a mumbled answer. "I hadn't really planned on it. I appreciate the sanctuary that you provided for me but I don't think I owe you any answers. Besides, it's probably better that you don't know; hopefully they won't find out that you're involved with me."
Scratching his eyebrow in irritation, Michael watched Liz pull on her boots and begin to tie them tightly. "What did you get me into? I have my own problems; I'll have you know. The last thing I need is for someone to come snooping around here."
Liz stood upright and met Michael with sympathetic eyes. "I'm sorry that I involved you, but I had nowhere else to go. I got separated from my unit and I was not going to allow myself to go back there," Liz said her voice growing strained.
Michael begrudgingly conceded that she wasn't going to answer any of his questions, but one still plagued him. "How did you know where to find me?"
Hearing Liz sigh, Michael knew he wasn't going to like the answer. "I've known where you were since I left that day," she said quietly.
"What?" Michael yelled. "So you knew what was going on in my life? You knew that I never gave up looking for you? That I still harbored hope, after all those years, that you would return?"
"I know you won't believe me, but I did it for your own good," she shouted back at him. "I've been keeping tabs on you and your family." Michael's eyebrows popped up in shock. "Yes, Max and Isabel. I've been protecting you and your secret." Michael gave her an incredulous glare and Liz replied snidely, "I do know your little secret; you're an alien, a hybrid anyway."
"I don't believe you, Liz; you haven't thought of me once since you disappeared," Michael said.
"I haven't, huh?" she said coolly. "What do you think happened to your foster father? Did you ever find out where he went?"
"You took care of Hank," he said with surprise. Liz nodded slightly. "How could you kill someone in cold blood?"
"I do what I have to do. There is a lot about me that you don't know and probably don't ever want to hear."
Scowling at the woman before him, Michael said, "If you've been protecting me all this time, where were you last December when the FBI came down on us?"
Michael regretted the question immediately when he saw the brief look of fear flicker in Liz's eyes. "I had my own problems; the Feds aren't only after aliens," she replied stiffly.
"What are you?" he asked.
Smirking sadly, Liz said, "According to the government, I'm an experiment gone awry." Liz bent over to adjust her shoes and added, "Don't worry about the FBI, they won't be after you anymore."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Let's just say that my family and I put an end to the special unit. All your files have been destroyed and the people that were involved are no longer a concern." Changing the subject, Liz continued, "As much as I'd like to stay around and chat, I've got to go; I've wasted too much time as it is. I need to get out of here and check in; my CO has probably marked me as dead."
Liz picked up her bag and shook it slightly. Raising her head, she gave Michael a deathly stare. "Missing something?" he asked while drawing the gun out from his pants.
"Are you going to give it back to me or are we going to have to do it the hard way?" she asked coolly, all traces of emotion fading from her face.
"I didn't get the answers that I wanted and you're not getting it back until I do."
"So you're opting for the painful approach," Liz stated more than asked.
Before Michael could defend himself, Liz leapt at him with lightening speed. How could he forget that she moved so fast? Michael attempted to step back but wasn't quick enough; Liz's foot connected with the hand holding the gun at the same time as her fist clobbered him upside the head. Dazed Michael fell to the floor on his knees relaxing his grip on the pistol. Immediately, Liz grabbed the gun and shoved it into her backpack.
"I'm sorry about that, but I don't really have the time right now."
As Michael tried to stand, Liz raced out the door. Vaguely, he heard the front door slam, the sound reverberating through his pounding head. Michael clutched his head willing the dull ache that Liz's fist caused to go away. Damn it, he thought, she's gone again.
|posted on 28-Jul-2002 12:23:54 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Later on that night, Michael was sitting at the kitchen table looking at the dried bloodstains. Slowly, he reached out and picked up the two slugs that he had removed from Liz's body and rolled them between his fingers. Wherever she is, he thought, let her be all right. Silently, Michael wished that he could join her outside of Roswell; see the world with her. Michael smiled slightly at that thought; what would it be like to have that kind of freedom?|
Suddenly, the front door was violently kicked in jerking Michael out of his thoughts. Turning to assess the invasion, Michael found that his apartment was filling with men dressed in military fatigues. Leaping from his chair, Michael backed away from the soldiers and raised his hand; they weren't going to take him without a fight.
The soldiers entered the room then froze, guns drawn to their shoulders in preparation to open fire. Michael forced down his ensuing panic attack and tried to come up with a plan to get out. As he was collecting his thoughts, Michael saw the intruders part to allow a man to pass through them. The man was sneering at him and fingering a sidearm that he had yet to draw. "Where is she?" he asked forcefully.
Michael felt his tension ease a bit; they weren't after him, they wanted Liz. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied calmly. Now he knew whom she was running from, but why?
"I'm sure you don't," the man answered, pausing briefly. "You may think that you're helping her by being silent, but you're not. She's dangerous; a thief and a killer; while we speak she is probably out there committing unspeakable acts."
"That's nice to know," Michael said feeling his stonewall slide firmly into place, "but I still don't have any idea why you're here. I think you should leave before I call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering."
The man burst out laughing and stalked towards Michael. "Police? Do you really think that they can help you?" An evil glint flashed in the man's eyes as he continued, "I tried being nice but now you've left me no choice." Frozen in place, Michael could only watch as the man's fist collided with his nose. "Where is she?" he asked again.
Bright flashes of light were filling Michael's vision and he willed himself not to pass out. Sliding to the floor, Michael felt the blood flowing down into his mouth and answered, "I said I don't know." Michael felt a foot drive into his midsection, cracking several ribs.
"I said, where is she?" Michael glared at the man and prepared himself for another hit.
"Looking for me?" he heard a feminine voice say.
|posted on 31-Jul-2002 9:25:55 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Thanks for the feedback, here's the next part.|
Turning towards the voice, Michael saw Liz standing in the doorway to his patio. He wanted to be angry that she was there but his mind kept chanting 'She came back for me.' "Are you alright, Michael?" He managed a slight nod before pulling his body off of the floor, painfully aware of each abused muscle.
"Well, Lydecker, fancy meeting you here," Liz said to the man that had been interrogating him. "I didn't think that you would stoop to beating up innocent people."
"If you hadn't run away 408, I wouldn't have had to. Why don't you give up peacefully and I'll let this boy stay alive?"
Michael edged over next to Liz and heard her whisper to him, "I want you to run; I can handle this.
Don't look back; trust me, you don't want them to catch you." Taking a defensive stance, Liz turned back to Lydecker, "I believe you already know my answer."
"So be it," he said while raising his right arm in the air. Lydecker's fingers slowly curled into a fist signaling his men to attack. Liz advanced pushing Michael behind her; "Run," she yelled at him. Michael stepped out the door but hesitated before leaving his apartment; Liz needs me, he thought. Slowly, Michael pivoted to step back in the room; he wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him.
The wall separating the bedroom and living room had a large man sized hole in it; two boot clad feet were visible through it. The refrigerator had suffered a similar fate and sported a huge dent; the cause for which was slumped unconsciously beside it. Two more men were sprawled on the floor by Liz's feet; their heads tilted at precarious angles to the rest of their body. Currently, Liz was in battle with three men and it was apparent that she had the upper hand despite the fact that they were twice her size. Maybe she has been looking after me all these years, he thought.
Looking around the bodies for Lydecker, Michael found that he had retreated behind his rapidly diminishing front line. As Michael finished his surveillance of the carnage, he heard police sirens whistling in the distance. A hand grabbed his forearm and he felt his body being pulled forcefully towards the exit. "We've got to leave now, Michael," Liz said. "Reinforcements will be here soon."
Dismissing any thoughts that he had of resisting, Michael quickly followed Liz outside. A voice floated to them, as they were running away, "I will get you, 408, and you can kiss your boyfriend goodbye."
Michael felt as if his lungs were going to burst; they had been running full tilt for about fifteen minutes. Suddenly, Liz stopped and pulled him into a dark alley; he observed that her breathing rate was normal and she had not broken a sweat. Terror traveled through Michael's body and he wondered where she was taking him; he wasn't sure if he completely trusted her. "What are you doing?" he managed to ask between pants.
"We're hiding until I can make a break for it and get my bike; I left it hidden across town. Do you think you can remain hidden until I get back?"
"What are you going to do with me?" he asked slightly nervous.
"You're coming with me. Lydecker made it pretty obvious, that if he found you, he would kill you. I'm sorry about how this turned out, but I have to get you out of town," Liz said as she turned to run out into the street.
Quickly, Michael grabbed her arm, "What do you mean leave? I can't go anywhere; my family is here."
"Fine, if you feel that way, stay. I'm leaving and won't be here to help next time Manticore shows up. Good luck to you if they catch you," she said somewhat angrily, "a simple blood work up will show that you're not human."
Michael's face dropped in uncertainty, "Why do they want you?"
"If you want answers, you'll have to come with me; I don't have the time now." Liz raised a hand to his face, softly stroking it. Letting out a sigh, she said, "You have about twenty minutes to decide while I retrieve my motorcycle. After that, I'm leaving; for good this time."
|posted on 2-Aug-2002 11:29:22 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Thanks for the bumping iceprincess4ever.|
I'll be out of town for a week, but I promise that I'll post more when I return.
I was just wondering if anyone would like to see a companion piece from Liz's point of view? I've got plenty of ideas and if there's enough interest I'll work on one.
|posted on 12-Aug-2002 11:40:06 AM by ofwolfandman408|
|Thanks for the bumps everyone. Here's the next part.|
Staring at the spot in which Liz had just vacated, Michael unconsciously brought his hand up to touch his cheek and wondered what he should do. Dangerous, she had said, deadly, most likely. Would he be placing Max and Isabel in harm's way if he stayed? Most assuredly he would. Michael wished that he could talk to them; let them know what was going on. Chuckling quietly to himself, Michael thought, finally a way out of this town and it's going to be on the run. Why couldn't he get any breaks?
Walking further into the alley, Michael realized that he was behind the Crashdown. Knowing he didn't have much time, Michael rushed inside and looked for Max and Isabel. He poked his head out of the break room door and saw them seated at their usual booth. Quickly, he got Isabel's attention and motioned for her to join him.
His mind was made up; Michael pulled Max and Isabel out into the alley to tell them. "I'm leaving," he said simply.
"So when are you coming back?" Max asked somewhat amusedly.
"No, you don't understand; I'm leaving Roswell permanently."
Silence answered him; the sudden tension that filled the air threatened to drown him. Finally, Isabel spoke, her voice trembling, "What? No, you can't go. Why are you leaving? Where are you going to go? When?"
Max placed a comforting arm around his sister before speaking, "You can't leave; I won't let you."
Sighing, Michael answered, "You have no say in this matter, Maxwell; I don't have a choice. If I stay, it could cost lives and I'm not prepared to sacrifice either one of you. Both of you know that you are the only reason I've stayed around for as long as I have; I can't let anything happen to you, not if I can help it."
"What kind of trouble are you in?" Max asked. "Maybe we can help you."
Michael opened his mouth to answer but stopped when he heard a vehicle entering the alleyway; he could just make out Liz's tiny form straddling a large black motorcycle. "I've got to go," he said. "That's my ride." Liz pulled up beside him and gave him a questioning glance.
"I'm going," he told her. "Just give me a couple more minutes."
"Make it quick, Michael. They're starting to swarm the town; roadblocks are going to be up soon if they're not already."
"Who is she?" Michael heard Isabel ask suspiciously.
"An old friend," he replied.
"Well, your old friend is bleeding," Max said sarcastically.
"Damn it, Liz. Can't you stay out of trouble," he said looking at the blood dripping to the ground from her thigh.
"I ran into some interference getting my bike. It's just a bullet wound; as you know, I've had worse and it isn't anything that I can't take care of," she replied impatiently. "We can argue about this later but right now hurry your ass up; we really have to be going."
Michael turned to address his family. "Listen. I have to go. I want you both to know that you mean the world to me and if I can, I'll find a way back to you." Michael looked into the tear-filled eyes of Isabel then enveloped her in a tight hug; "I love you," he mumbled.
Releasing Isabel, Michael turned to Max and held out his hand. Max ignored the proffered gesture and wrapped his arms around Michael. "Please come back, Michael. We both need you."
Breaking the embrace, Michael climbed on behind Liz and wrapped an arm around her waist. Liz gunned the engine and sped out of the alleyway; Michael stared directly ahead, never once looking back.
|posted on 16-Aug-2002 10:06:46 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Freedom, Michael thought, how sweet it is. It had been nearly three years since he and Liz had left Roswell, New Mexico and he had yet to regret a day of it.|
The first couple of months had been rough and he had been certain that they wouldn't be able to escape the next capture attempt. As it was, Michael found himself evading trouble daily, rarely getting a moment to relax. After they had left Roswell, Liz met up with her commanding officer. Zack, Liz's CO, also turned out to be her brother, he helped them to leave the area and stayed with them until the threat had died down.
Eventually, Michael and Liz had made it to Seattle, Washington and looked up her sister, Max. Max had turned out to have great connections and her boyfriend, Logan, managed to create fake documentation and aliases that enabled them to exit the country undetected. Once in Canada, Michael booked them on a flight to Europe where they wandered around for a year taking in the sights and blending in with the crowds.
About a year ago, Michael had contacted Max and Isabel, finding them both to be well and still living in Roswell. There had been no alien problems since he left; not that he really expected any. Over the time since he and Liz had reunited, Michael found that she was brutally honest and overly protective; he had no doubt that she had destroyed any threat in regards to his alien status. From that first contact, Michael made sure to call his family about once a month to check in, but he never revealed his location to them. Michael had grown to enjoy the life of a rambler and he wasn't going to let anyone take that away.
Michael let his thoughts drift to Liz; she was his friend, lover, confidant and support. Michael and Liz built a life for themselves, together. They shared in everything, from working their way across the world to their bed. They took whatever odd jobs they could find over the years, supporting their existence on a bare minimum of money. Whenever extra cash was needed or they couldn't find work, Liz would use her military training to steal whatever they needed. Michael found their journey was unhindered by outside constraints and eventually they stopped looking over their shoulders every couple of minutes. When they were confident that no one was trailing them, Michael and Liz used their new independence for traveling and getting to know each other.
After about six months of being on the run, the relationship between Michael and Liz had changed to one of a physical nature. Michael wasn't sure that it was love but it was something more than animalistic lust. They enjoyed each other's body at every opportunity, the most outrageous time being on a tour of the Eiffel Tower. They would stay up late at night discussing literature, politics, anything that they were passionate about. Michael found, over the years, that he and Liz were intellectually, physically and emotionally linked.
All Michael knew was that he was truly happy for the first time in his life; his constant cares and worries were a thing of the past, a bare memory. Freedom was everything that he once dreamed it would be; Liz helped him to realize it. With her help, Michael's once solid stonewall of emotions had cracked and crumbled down around him and he felt no need to rebuild it. Finally, he had found his home; he had found it in Liz.
Maybe he was in love after all, Michael thought to himself, a slight smile curling on his lips. Michael turned over and wrapped his arms around the naked woman lying in the bed beside him. Pulling her tightly to his chest, Michael placed a kiss on the crown of her head. Liz snuggled into his embrace and looked up into his eyes. With his voice full of emotion, Michael let her know everything that he was feeling in two simple words, "Thank you," he murmured nuzzling Liz's neck.
Liz rolled Michael's body over onto his back and crawled on top of him to lie on his chest. Leaning in for a light kiss, she asked, "For what?"
Michael threaded his fingers into Liz's hair and replied softly, "Everything."
Passionately, their lips met, forging their lives together forever.
|posted on 18-Aug-2002 2:12:25 PM by ofwolfandman408|
|Thanks everyone who read my fic. Right now, I'm currently working on a companion piece to I Disappear from Liz's point of view but I think that I'm going to put it on hold for a while. I've been trying to pound out the sequel to Common Ground, if anyone is interested. I'm hoping to start posting before the end of the month but whether I will... Well your guess is as good as mine.|