|posted on 4-Nov-2001 12:58:13 PM by majesty|
|Ok, I posted this short story at The Boardello last week to get a feel for how it would go over. I decided to bring it over here, as people seemed to like it.|
Title: Arms Wide Open
(Complete One Part + Epilogue)
Category: M/L (MAX POV - confession to an objective human
Disclaimer: I own nada
I wrote this last week mainly because I was in a pissed off mood, and was experencing writer's block. I was listening to Creed, and this idea was bugging me.
I don’t know what to do with myself, so I pace. Pacing helps.
I don’t know where she is. I can feel him ready to face this scary place. I can sense him. He’s ready. Am I ready? How can I be? I can’t even find them. I couldn’t protect them. I was selfish. I think I’ve always been that way, thinking about it now. Always self-absorbed, never seeing what was really going on around me.
My sister watches me in sympathy. It’s too dangerous for me to leave this place. She has told me repeatedly that the minute I walk out that door I am a dead man, and then will be no use to anyone. My head knows she’s right, but my heart cries out that it’s wrong. I’m wrong.
Michael is out there somewhere, looking for her. Looking for the mother of my child. He’s been gone for a month. We’re cut off from communications in here. Isabel can’t dream-walk him. It’s too dangerous. If they’ve captured him and are in control of his mind and she tries to contact him, we’ll be found. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead. He said goodbye to Maria, but I know he still loves her. If he makes it back here, I know the first thing she’ll do is to take him back. That’s just the way Maria is.
I wonder are any of us worthy of love? Are we? What have we done to the people we love? Nothing but hurt them, putting them in danger, watching them do heroic things for us, never questioning it. Never doubting they were doing the right thing. We always question things. We have to have a fucking meeting before we blow our noses it seems. So, are we worthy of those who never turned their backs on us? No, I don’t think so. I don’t think Isabel or Michael do either. Isabel still blames herself for Alex’s death.
There’s a war going on out there. A war that started two months after my son was conceived though we didn’t know that he was the reason it began at the time. Now I know better.
I have mixed feelings about what happened. She seduced me didn’t she? But was it planned? On some subconscious level did she know what she was doing? I don’t know, and now I may never know.
I hated her, yet on some level I was so attracted to her. I can’t explain it. Those things she did to me, to us really, I never thought she could deceive us like that. That night in the observatory she was so, I don’t know, angry, sad, seductive, loving, all at the same time. My world had fallen apart, hadn’t it? And she was there for me.
And now she’s gone. And even now, I hate her on some level. She’s the mother of my child, and I hate her. I think maybe because she left. She got what she wanted and she left. She was working with Khivar. My mind doesn’t want to believe it.
I didn’t know why she left. They tell me she was in with Khivar, that he somehow convinced her that my downfall would be her salvation. He promised her everything. I know that now. But now it’s too late.
I didn’t know she was pregnant. I hated myself for that one night of weakness. I woke up and she was gone, and I thought…I can’t believe I thought it, but I thought good riddance. Maybe I was just angry because in spite of it all deep down I wanted to think we were more alike than either of us realized. Selfish, maybe cold, I don’t know. It’s easier to justify your own foolish actions by pinning your own weaknesses on someone else too. There are those dark places in the mind where you know the real you. Most of the time you can convince yourself that you are a good person, your intentions are good, you want to do the right thing, but deep down everyone knows the truth somewhere in their hearts.
Word came back through a message at the UFO Museum, through one of Brody’s contacts, that she was with Khivar, and that she was pregnant with my son. And then two weeks later, all hell broke loose and the skins invaded this planet, and we were forced into hiding. My parents didn’t make it. The whole town was pretty much wiped out. But we have Kyle and Maria, and I am grateful for that at least. At least they were spared. Brody in his paranoia had stocked the museum with years worth of supplies. We could probably live here indefinitely, without ever having to do outside. The building above was destroyed. Rubble lies on top of the bomb shelter, the enormous bomb shelter we are holed up in right now.
I wanted to leave. They wouldn’t let me. Michael took it upon himself to take on the mission that should have been mine. To find my son. In a way I hate him for it. I hate him because yet again they are picking up after my mess, my recklessness. They tried to warn me about her, but I didn’t listen, and now he is out there risking his life for my mistake, while he should be here with Maria. But I am the King right? So I have to sit here impotent, hell isn’t that an ironic phrase right now, while he could be dead or captured or something even worse.
Stop looking at me like that Isabel. That mix of pity and…something else. Disappointment? Disgust? I can’t name it, but it’s there. It’s been there for awhile now.
One month gestation. It’s bullshit all the way around. I found out that whether its alien or human, human biology prevails with natural conception and birth. We were genetically engineered, a twisted monstrosity of Antarian and human in my opinion. I never used to think that way, but everything I thought I knew to be true has changed. We were left to mature and hatch in some sick joke our parents created. For what? Look what our very existence has done to the people of this planet?
I know, I sound like I am whining and drowning in self-pity don’t I? You want to tell me that I didn’t ask to be re-born so to speak. I didn’t ask for this existence. But put yourself in my shoes for one moment. You’re human, and you’re not involved with all of this. An objective observer.
Nothing to say? I thought so. You’re lucky to be alive. That you stumbled into us. And now you’re stuck in here with us, this prison, playing a waiting game to see if Michael will ever come back. If you were to walk outside right now, they’d find you wouldn’t they? You’d be locked up in another prison. You’d probably suffer some unspeakable torture at their hands, like the rest of those that survived are facing. Maybe you aren’t so lucky after all huh? At least if you’d been caught in what had happened out there you’d have peace in death, not being holed up with the very people who are the reason you are in this mess in the first place. Lucky you.
I want to think of what might have been if Tess had never come to town. Where Liz and I might be right now. That maybe we might have had a small chance at happiness. But I don’t like to think about that too much. It’s too painful.
And now I am left to deal with this. Left to sit here, day after day, feeling my son’s fear, really feeling it, though it has no voice. He doesn’t speak, but I sense what he’s feeling. He’s afraid for what’s to come. He connects with me. Somehow I know that. There could be a million and one reasons for this, and it looks like I may never know. He senses things, things like fear when she feels it. Fatigue. Apathy. Oh and ambition and anger. For the past few weeks I have been getting those sensations from him, my son, when he tries to connect with his mother. But it’s not a true connection with her. It’s just sensation. And it makes me angry. Angry at her ambition. Angry that this is what it all has come to.
If you do somehow manage to get out of here alive someday, tell people that I didn’t mean for this to happen. Will you do that?
What is it now Isabel?
I can’t take much more of this.
Why is she holding her head?
Why is she giving me that shocked look?
I watch her as her eyes widen, and she runs to the door.
Don’t open it Isabel!
I try to stop her but she is too quick.
Everything is happening so quickly.
Michael rushes in with her and she’s crying. She’s in pain. And Michael doesn’t stop, but goes straight through to the control room with Maria in tow.
I stand there in shock for a long moment, and then the reality of it all hits me. Michael is alive, and he’s got her. He has the traitor that is carrying my son in her body. Her traitorous body. I want to scream at her. I want to shake her.
I try to push into the room and Isabel holds me back.
Don’t, she says. It will be easier if you stay out here. You know what we’ll have to do after the baby is born. Stay away, I’ll bring the baby out to you after it’s done, after she’s…gone, she says.
I look at her indecisively, but I know she’s right. But it’s hard. I hate her. But she’s the mother of my child. I can’t quite let that go. She walks into the control room and shuts the door. Through the windows and the glass I can see everything that is going on.
Maria doesn’t know what to do. She knows what happened. She knows that she betrayed all of them.
They lay her on the table and she lets out an agonized wail as another blinding contraction wracks her body. He’s coming. I can feel it. He’s very strong, my son.
She grabs Michael’s hand, her eyes begging him to make the pain stop, but he can’t. Only I can do that, and yet I know I can’t approach her. Why isn’t she saying anything? I try to tell myself she deserves it, after all that’s happened, but the cries ring in my ears like a nightmare.
It’s happening now. They just made it here. I can’t believe they are here, and I watch wide-eyed as my son is born through the glass of the control room window. Do you see him? Do you see how beautiful he is?
Isabel takes the baby and cuts the umbilical cord, handing him to Maria as he lets out a lusty yell, letting everyone know he’s arrived. I can’t help the tears forming in my eyes and yet I can’t take my eyes off of him.
She’s crying, and Michael sees me through the glass, watching, and he leaves her side, stepping out of the room.
How did you do it Michael? I ask.
How did you get her out?
I’m not sure exactly what happened. She won’t talk. She hasn’t said a word. All she has done is cry. I cased their place for weeks, trying to find an in. Finally I got my chance. I got past their guards, and she was with him, Khivar. She saw me when I came into the room. I was going to kill him, I swear. But he’s so powerful Max. He’s much more powerful than we are. He knocked me to the floor, and beat me. He was messing with my head. I can’t even explain what that was like. I passed out. Next thing I knew, I woke up and she was cowering in the corner, pointing a gun at me. I got up, and she doubled over. Her labor had started. She fought me Max. She didn’t want to come here. I would have never brought her here Max, if I knew how to deliver a baby. But I couldn’t do it alone, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to your son. I’m sorry.
I don’t know what to say to him. I don’t even know how I am feeling right now. Seeing her again is…hard.
Maria steps out of the room, sensing Michael’s stress and puts her arm around him, supportively, unquestioningly, and I see what I knew was going to happen all along. They are together, as they were meant to be, and my heart aches a little at that.
I let them share a private moment. Don’t look at them. Leave them alone for a minute. They deserve it. Look at my son in Isabel’s arms instead.
And then I look at her. She is drawn and pale. She has these dark circles under her eyes. She looks tired, tired like I have never seen anyone tired before. She also looks resigned. Because she knows what they are going to do to her. She knows she is going to die for what she has done to us.
Isabel looks at her, and she holds her arms out tearfully. She asks to hold her son just once without words, as she does not own them, cannot speak them aloud. Isabel turns from her pleading gaze, and brings my son, wrapped in a towel out to me.
He is amazing. I cannot help but feel the pride and love that wells in my throat and in my heart as I look into his trusting eyes for the first time. He has knowing eyes, but then he knows me already. He has my eyes, amber flecked with gold, and he is the most beautiful thing I think I have ever seen. I feel tears well in my eyes and I know everyone is watching my reaction. I look at Isabel and she smiles at me, and I smile shakily back. I feel Michael’s hand squeeze my shoulder encouragingly, and Maria places a gentle kiss on my cheek.
What happened to me over the last year? I can’t even look at myself in the mirror anymore. I have fathered two children, and become this irresponsible person.
I can’t believe how tiny he is. He squirms a bit on my arms, and my laugh comes out as a half-sob. His little hand raises tentatively, and he grabs my finger, squeezing it reassuringly, and my tears are flowing freely now, as my eyes raise from his to the gaze I can feel from the control room. I feel my throat close over as I look into her eyes that are brimming with tears.
She has to be able to hold him once more. I can give her at least that can’t I? After everything, I can give her that.
Liz, I choke out.
I move quickly inside the door and shut it behind me, melting the knob. Isabel pounds on the glass, but I barely hear it as I move toward the table, my eyes never leaving hers. I love her and I hate her all at the same time. She is the mother of my child. She was the love of my life. She is my biggest betrayer. She filled my heart with love. She ripped my heart into a thousand pieces.
Her breath is coming in short gasps, as tears pour down her cheeks. She watches me as I stand there unmoving holding our son.
And then I hold him out to her, and she looks at me in disbelief. I can see that she is afraid to move, afraid to reach out, so I place him in her arms, and she lets out a pitiful mewling noise as she holds our son for the first time.
I watch her and I can’t help but feel as if my heart is going to break as she makes little sobbing noises as she looks down into his face. He reaches up and gently touches her nose, and she smiles through her tears, sighing. She lays her cheek gently against the top of his head and shuts her eyes, which isn’t stopping the tears from forcing themselves through her closed lids.
I have to ask. I need to know.
Why did you do it Liz? I say. Did you hate me that much? I ask her.
I needed to know why she betrayed me. Was it because I slept with Tess? Did her hate take over until she couldn’t see me, *me* anymore? Is that why she went against everything we ever had together?
She looks at me for a split second, and then she can’t meet my eyes anymore. I won’t let her get off that easy. If she won’t tell me why, I’ll find out the only way I know how.
I reach out to touch her and she shrinks away from me, clutching our son tighter. She tries to move away. She knows what I mean to do.
I grab her wrist in a vice-like grip, and the images begin to rush at me. I connect with her, I need to know what’s in her heart. I was stupid the last time. I didn’t try hard enough. If I had, we wouldn’t be here right now, in this hell we call earth.
I see me, an older me, telling her that she has to make me fall out of love with her. She doesn’t want to. She loves me more than she loves anything in the world. And then I tell her that Isabel and Michael are killed fourteen years in the future. She knows she has no choice. She has to help me. And she does.
I see her tell Kyle that she needs his help. He doesn’t know why she wants to do it, but he accepts that she knows what she is doing unquestioningly. Because he is a good friend. Because he is a better man than I ever was. I literally feel her heart break as she sees me outside her window, catching her and Kyle in bed together.
Back then I thought I pushed her to sleep with Kyle. I wouldn’t leave her alone. I wouldn’t let it go. I disconnected from her after that, I remember. She feels it, as if a part of her is dying.
I think to myself for the thousandth time since then, what did I do to us? She didn’t sleep with him. She never slept with Kyle.
Then Alex is dead, and she thinks that she can’t possibly stand any more. She knows it wasn’t an accident, but I didn’t listen to her. None of us did. And she is alone. I yell at her. I tell her that I don’t believe her. I accuse her of trying to blame it on Tess. Tess.
She feels as if she is going crazy when I tell her that I slept with Tess, and that Tess is pregnant. I feel her sense of being abandoned when I tell her we are leaving. I should have known. I should have known she didn’t sleep with Kyle. She never said a word. She thinks that what is happening is what was meant to be, because a future version of myself said so.
But still she loves me, after all of that. She finds out the truth, that Tess killed Alex. She finds us at the pod chamber as we are about to leave. And I am completely floored, betrayed when Tess tells me that she was ready to bring our heads to Khivar on a platter. She tried, but she failed. I let her take the Granolith, to escape, because I thought she was carrying my son. I swore vengeance on her.
As the Granolith took off, I fully realized my error in letting Liz slip away from me. I didn’t know how to make it up to her, but somehow I would, and I tell her that.
I knew I had to find my son, the innocent in this whole mess, but Tess took that away, when she took the Granolith.
Liz doesn’t want to talk right away, and I understood that. She needed time.
But she needed more time than I would have thought. She avoided me for a week, and I see her struggle with her feelings for me, for the fact that I slept with Tess.
I was struggling with the fact that I slept with Tess. I was struggling with my own stupidity. And I had a son out there somewhere. I began to torture myself that week, I didn’t let up on myself, and I haven’t since. I had no further contact with my son. Perhaps Antar was too far away for him to reach me. Perhaps they never made it, though somehow I think they did.
That fateful night found me back at the observatory, where everything had culminated, and had been put into motion, changed forever. I had these memories of being with Tess here, and they scare me. I still don’t want to believe that was me. I don’t want to believe that I would foresake everything that was important to me, just throwing it all away for one night. But I did, didn’t I?
She knew she’d find me there. Somehow she knew. She had struggled with her emotions for long enough, and knew suddenly that she had to be with me.
She came into the observatory, seeing me sitting there alone, and her heart went out to me, as it always did, as it always would. She came up behind me, and as I saw this image from her mind, I felt every bit of the love that she had for me, and the overwhelming sacrifice she made for me, for us, and it humbled me now as nothing ever had before. She moved so quietly I didn’t know she was there until she touched my shoulder lightly, looking down at me.
I see myself look up at her, my eyes shining with tears, complete in my misery. And her eyes meet mine, gentle, warm and all-encompassing.
She smiles sadly at me, for all that was lost, all that she had changed that night with Kyle, and for an innocence that would never be between us again.
And I saw her acceptance for what happened, but could not forgive myself. After everything that happened with Tess and I, I would never forgive myself. I was seduced by a betrayer, a murderer, a cold-hearted bitch, and I would have to live with that, and it’s consequences for the rest of my life. I had a child somewhere out there in the unknown. How can Liz look at me now? How can she stand to look into my face? I am so torn, because I want her back so badly, yet I am disgusted when I think of what I’ve done to her. I feel like ripping my hair out, cutting off my arm, anything to make what I had done go away. But nothing I could do as penance would change things.
She sighs as I rest my cheek against her stomach, my hands on her hips. She felt my shoulders shake silently as I finally gave in to my self-hatred with tears.
She knelt down in front of me, and I kept my head lowered, ashamed to look at her. I felt her warm palms on my cheeks, becoming wet with my tears. Her thumbs stroked my cheeks gently, as she silently willed me to look at her. I couldn’t. Her forehead touched mine, and we remained still, nose to nose.
How can you be here? I heard myself choke out. How can you even stand to look at me after what I’ve done?
She was silent for a long moment, and I prepared myself for what I didn’t want to hear, for what I had to hear.
She sighed and I felt her inner turmoil.
Sometimes I hate you, she said. But the love I have for you never goes away, even when I hate you at the same time. I can’t help but love you Max. You’ve hurt me like no one else could, but you’ve also loved me like I have never been loved before. All of us make mistakes, decisions. Sometimes we just don’t have a choice, she said wistfully.
Oh how I wish I had known what she meant by that back then.
I looked up into her eyes, and saw a mix of sadness, and a new-found wisdom, and a trace of hardness mixed in with the love that shone there.
I can’t promise you anything permanent, she said. I can only say I want to try again.
I felt my heart leap and my stomach sink at the same time.
Are you sure? I asked. What if I hurt you again? I couldn’t bear it, to hurt you again.
I’m willing to take the chance, she says softly to me, and I believe her.
My fingers gently brush her hair behind her ear, and I felt the pure adrenaline rush she experiences at my touch. She feels the same things I feel when she touches me, I think incredulously.
Slowly, unsure of myself I lean closer to her, to her waiting lips. I wanted to make sure it was really what she wants. But I needn’t have worried, because I can feel now how much she *needs* me to kiss her.
Her lips feel like silk against mine, sweet breath caresses my face, and my lips gently capture her lower lip in a loving embrace. A lone tear slides down her face. At the time I remember the pain that pierced my heart that she was still hurting. But now I know that was a tear of happiness, of coming home.
Powerful yet tentative hands slide around her rib-cage to her back, and she is in my arms. My hands give her such comfort. I never knew that.
I remember having this crazy thought that the two of us being here together might somehow cancel or wipe out what I had done here with Tess. But now Liz pushes images of Tess and I here together that she her mind conjures while she is asleep to the back of her mind, willing herself not to think about it.
I almost want to let go of her, to end the connection when I see what she went through back then, but I press on, because I have to know the truth, the whole truth.
I can feel the love in her, the love she has for me. What happened? What made her turn away from me? To Khivar? I feel I will know the answer soon enough.
I see that my hand is on her neck, my thumb at her throat, and I distinctly remember feeling that strong, erratic pulse then. Now I experience that racing pulse through Liz.
When she looks at me, she sees something completely different than I do. I see a selfish, self-absorbed, indecisive, ignorant boy. Ignorant because I chose to be. Because it was easier than facing what was really going on.
But when she looks at me, she sees this man…flawed, but still noble, protective yet gentle, impulsive yet accepting responsibility for his actions, someone who has had to take on more than should ever be expected of a seventeen year old, even if he is an alien.
She loves my eyes. She thinks to herself that she could look into them all day and never tire of it. She loves the feel of my skin, and she has to hold herself back from touching me too much, because she is afraid of what I might think of her. She is absorbed with my lips, because they have the power to make her knees weak, because they do things to her that she never imagined would feel so good.
She adores the way my hair curls at the back of my neck, and she likes to touch it, because it’s soft like silk.
My hands light a fire in her body that she can’t control, any more than she can control the fact that in spite of everything, she still loves me.
I see myself pull away from her.
Let me try to make it up to you, I say almost desperately, and she wants to let me try to do that. She wants to trust me again, but she doesn’t know how. She knows that only time will help with that.
Right now she is living in the moment, in my arms, wanting to pretend that nothing, no one else exists but us. Her eyes had told me that she desperately wanted to believe I could make it all better. I remember that.
Later, I thought it was all a lie, but now I see that she did really feel that way.
I am so confused.
Her arms wind around my neck and take my lips in the sweetest kiss, willing me to feel that she thought I was redeemable, that I was worth something, that I was good, that I still had something left to give the world, even after what I had done.
It is painful for me to feel this now, after everything, but still I hold on to her wrist.
She sees the desire that lights my eyes. For a fleeting moment she is repelled, disgusted that I had done this with Tess here, that I had felt the same desire for her.
And then she tells herself that she has to let it go if she wants to be with me, and the thought is gone. She knows now that I want her and only her.
My lips on her neck send shivers up her spine, and her breath wavers at the fierce need she feels welling up in her body. She feels the muscles in my shoulders bunch and contract and she knows I am holding myself in check, because I want her so badly, I need her solace, I need to lose myself in her comforting and loving arms. She likes that I need her, and not just physically. I need her to tell me that I am going to be ok. I need her to tell me that together we can face anything.
My hands clasp her hips as I pull her roughly to me, and she sighs at the feeling of her softness pressing against the hardness of my chest. She leans into me as her mouth opens to me, letting me in.
That night I didn’t make a connection with her. Later I thought it was because she didn’t want me to see the darkness she had hidden in her heart, that she would betray me. But that wasn’t it at all. She knew that I was fragile that night. She knew that feeling the full power of her hurt, even tempered with the brightness of her love, would have been my undoing.
Her tiny hands move under my t-shirt at my back, and they slide upward, trapping the t-shirt at her wrists, slowly drawing it upward, and her hands slide up my arms as I raise them to let her pull the shirt over my head. In a moment it is done, and her hands are at my elbow and she sees me shiver.
She thinks it is because I was cold, but it wasn’t that at all. I shivered because the very touch of her hands makes my whole body hum.
I remember I couldn’t make a move to touch the little top she has on. I half hated myself for feeling I deserved being with her, but my body cried out for her, as did my heart. And so I was still, trying to catch my breath, trying to gain control of myself.
She seemed to sense my feelings, and catching my eyes, almost boldly she removed her top, never breaking my gaze. At that moment I loved her boldness. Later I hated it because I thought it was all a seduction, that none of it was real.
But it was fear that motivated that move, something I never would have expected.
She is afraid that I will think her inadequate, that she won’t measure up to Tess, and so she made herself bold out of fear that she would fall short in my eyes.
God, I want to tear my heart out of my chest right now, because it hurts too much in there. It hurts me, even now, to know that she was feeling that way; that she should ever have been made to feel inadequate, when in reality, Tess could have never measured up. Not in a lifetime.
I feel her cheeks flame as she sees my eyes roam over the newly exposed skin, and the rush of blood to her head as she sees my eyes darken in desire.
I remember thinking to myself that she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She was…perfect, in every way. She thinks almost unconsciously that our bodies were made for each other, they fit so well together. One complimented the other. Like peas and carrots, she thought wildly, as that quote from Forrest Gump flew through her mind, and she almost laughed.
But any thought of laughter quickly was gone when my mouth closed over her nipple.
There was something, something in her mind she was trying not to think about. I almost catch it, and then it is gone. It’s something she didn’t want me to know.
I found out too late that night, and my mind cringes that I will be living this through her eyes.
Little jolts of electricity run through her body as she feels the warm wetness, the rough texture of my tongue on the sensitive nerve endings at the tip of her breast. She feel a hunger, or is it a thirst? She doesn’t know, but it is strangely thrilling.
She feels my desire for her as she wraps her legs around my hips, and I lay her back gently on the floor.
Almost disconnected in the passionate haze she has wandered into, she hears a husky moan escape from her throat, and the consequent reaction of my body when I heard that sound fall from her lips. My tongue is leaving a wet trail up the swell of her breast as my hand is cupped underneath it, supporting it’s delicate weight. The cool air hits the moisture on her body, and she shivers lightly at the sensation. She feels my muscles play beneath her calves as I shift my position slightly and she can feel the stiffness through my pants pressing insistently against her core. Again, the beginning of that thought is there and gone. She doesn’t want to think about it.
As I lay above her, supported on my elbows, she watches my eyes, travelling the planes of her face, looking for reassurance, looking for love.
Her fingernails lightly raked my abdomen down to the front of my jeans, and her breath quickened as she scraped the swelling there, and I heard myself groan. It was strange to see myself through her eyes, but yet wonderful. She felt her own intimate area respond, and she wanted me. She wanted *me*. It wasn’t a seduction and it wasn’t the means to some end she had created in her mind with Khivar. She wanted me with every fiber of her being.
My hands slid up the back of her thighs, sliding the skirt she was wearing upward. They rest for a short moment on her buttocks, on the soft cotton of her underwear before lightly squeezing, lifting her closer to me as my lips devoured hers, my tongue exploring her mouth.
Her breathing is heavy, her eyes half-closed as her eyes bored into mine, and she lifted her head, her lips closing over my neck lightly, gently nipping me, her tongue drawing lazy circles on my erratic pulse. Her mouth travels to my jaw-line, planting little kisses until her cheek is next to mine and she nuzzles my cheek with her own. My head turns to her and we still for a moment, caught up in the enormity of what we were doing. Our breathing is ragged, our hearts beating wildly, and she lifts up, forcing me to sit up, and I adjust my legs effortlessly lifting her to put them straight in front of me. Now she is straddled across my lap, her skirt hiked up indecently, and I swear to this day I have never seen anything more arousing in my life than a bare-chested, disheveled Liz Parker sprawled across my lap. She gently pushes me back till I am resting on my elbows, and she lifts herself gently from my lap to unfasten my pants. She made quick work of removing them, never breaking contact with my eyes. She crawled up my body to her original place, and still looking down at me, she lifted one side if her skirt to expose the tiny bikini she was wearing. She pulled the thin band at her hip out with her thumb and grasped it with both hands, ripping it. She could feel the heavy rise and fall of my chest and abdomen beneath her as she repeated the gesture with the other side, pulling the ripped garment off. My hands again were at her thighs, this time feeling the silky smooth skin of her rear. My hands moved to her hips and then to the front of her thighs over her hipbones to her soft tummy before sliding downward, brushing over the silky hair, feeling the dampness that permeated the curls.
Liz, I had groaned, and she put her finger to her lips. She moved a bit away from me, her sex poised just below mine as her gaze fell to my arousal and the pads of her fingertips lightly touched me for the first time.
Again, I see what she is thinking.
She thinks that I am beautiful as she gazes down at me, propped on my elbows, my breathing labored, watching the muscles at play in my abdomen. She marvels at my state of arousal and thinks that is beautiful as well. She thinks everything about me is beautiful.
Her little fingers grasp my sex as she moves over it. She rubs herself a little timidly on me. She wants me very badly. She needs me inside of her, and yet there was something she was afraid of, something she has been holding back.
I try to stop her, to tell her that we have to be careful, but before I could say anything, I was sliding into her slowly, gently as I groan and she sighs. Very slow, she thinks.
And here is what I have been dreading.
Suddenly I couldn’t go any further. I see her watch me as my eyes opened, confused, not comprehending…yet.
And then she sees it, as my eyes widen, as the realization hits me.
Liz? I say my breath coming in great gasps, but it is too late, she plunges herself down on me, and she sees me shaking my head, not wanting to believe, not wanting this to be the truth, because it is unbearable. And she covers my mouth with hers to strangle her cry of pain. I break the kiss.
Don’t, she says desperately. Don’t say *anything*.
I start to object, but the look in her eyes silences me immediately, as she begins to move slowly over me, and she felt so warm, and she fit me like a glove, and I remember feeling so much love for her at that moment, that I feared my heart would explode.
She feels me sit up, feeling me move even deeper inside of her, then my arms are around her tiny frame as our lips and tongues entangled together as they had so many so many times before, yet this time it was different. This time, we had taken us to a whole new level. She throws her arms around my neck as she begins to move instinctively against my body, sliding herself up and down, pulling me in deeper.
I cry out and she holds onto me desperately, because she is afraid that this is a dream. She wanted what Tess had had with me. She wanted to prove to herself that what we had was the real thing, that it was beautiful, and that no matter what had happened, what was between us was bigger, stronger. She knew when she approached Sean the night I was said goodbye to her, when she tried to forget me in his arms, that it could never be with anyone else what it was with me.
She feels my skin slick against hers, as we move together, and for that moment, she believes that nothing could ever tear us apart again.
She feels my whole body tighten as she drives me over the edge, and my hands grasp her hips with one pulling her down with one final deep thrust that takes her with me, and we cry out together, our voices filled with longing, love, sadness, release, and reunion.
I fell back to the floor, taking her with me, and she lay atop my chest for a long time, feeling my heartbeat pounding against her chest. We don’t speak for a long time. I put my arms around her, making sure every inch of her skin is against my own. The lack of a connection with her troubled me, but I understand it. It would take a long time before we could fully open up to each other again. I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head gently.
Liz, I had started to say, and she knew what I was going to ask, and she couldn’t deal with it, not yet.
Please Max, she says, not tonight. We’ll let the world and all our problems in tomorrow. Just let us be, just for tonight.
I tighten my arms around her, and rolled to my side, lying her down next to me.
She turns away from me as those images of Tess invaded her head again, and she angrily pushes them away.
She feels my chest press up against her back, and my legs entangle with hers, as my arms close around her protectively.
She listens to my breathing at her ear, after a long while evening out in sleep. Again, the images of Tess plagued her mind until she can’t lie there anymore. She has to think. She has to resolve this jealousy of hers, if we are to have any hope for a future together.
She quietly gets up and gets dressed, careful not to wake me. She gathers her things, taking one last longing look at my face peaceful in sleep, and she leaves.
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 4-Nov-2001 1:04:59 PM ]
|posted on 4-Nov-2001 1:00:54 PM by majesty|
It’s after 2 a.m, and she starts the long walk home.
What is she to do? How will she get over this? She argues with herself. She knows she loves me deeply, but the hurt hits her. She should have talked to me, she thinks. She should have just come out and asked the questions she so deeply needed answers to.
Was what happened between them beautiful? Did Tess compare? Why did he sleep with Tess? She was so confused. She knew how it had appeared to him; that she had slept with Kyle and that was no more wrong that him sleeping with Tess. She had deceived him for what she thought were the right reasons, but now he knew the truth, and he was going to want answers too. And she didn’t have any answers to give him. She was afraid that if she told him the truth about Future Max, future events would be changed again forever. Already Alex was dead because of what she had done. Who might be next?
But she loved him, and even after Tess, she was ready to fight for him now. She was ready to try to change history, to do whatever she had to do to be with him. There was at least a chance they could all be safe. At least a chance.
She makes it to Roswell in an hour, and decides to cut through the park. She never makes it the whole way across. She is grabbed by Nicholas, and taken to an underground facility, where she comes face to face with Khivar for the first time.
She is dropped unceremoniously on the floor in front of him, and he smiles at her cruelly.
I am sure now you know who I am, the blond man says, and she glares at him.
What do you want? She asks.
Oh, don’t be coy Miss Parker, you know what I want. Max Evans, he replies patiently.
And you think I’m going to help you? She asks.
I think I might change your mind about a few things, he says.
Why, because Tess didn’t do the job right? She asks sarcastically. She got knocked up, isn’t that what you wanted, aside from killing him? You wanted his heir.
You think you know so much don’t you? He says. I didn’t want some bastard child of Zan. The child was a means to an end, a way to get to him. But Tess failed.
But, the child, she says.
A mind-warp, he replies. He thought he was connecting with a child. It was all a mind game with her.
So she wasn’t pregnant, she asks.
No, he answers.
But then does that mean-
He laughs cruelly. Oh no, he rode her like the little filly she is. You know, I don’t believe you’ve seen the footage, says, placing his hands on her head.
Her head is immediately filled with images of Max and Tess together in the observatory. She tries to break away from Khivar, but he forces her to watch.
Max is slowly removing her clothes. He looks beaten, hollow. Tess is obviously taking full advantage of this, smiling at him, whispering words of reassurance.
No! Liz screams, and my heart is filled with horror at what she had to be witness to.
She rips his hands from her head.
I hate her! She cries. God I hate her! And unbidden, she knew what she would have to say to survive this, if any of them had a chance to survive.
I hate him too. I wish he were dead, she says as she stands up pacing. She hated herself for saying that. She’d rather die first.
Now why don’t I believe that Miss Parker? He asks. Especially after what transpired between the two of you this evening?
She laughs cruelly. The joke is on you Khivar. Yes, we had sex. But all I got were flashes of he and Tess. I couldn’t take it. I can’t forgive him for what he’s done to me. Ever.
He stops and sniffs the air for a moment and breaks into laughter.
He’s done a lot more than you think he has, he laughs gleefully.
She’s confused. She stares at him, as he laughs until he had tears coming out of his eyes.
I never should have recruited Nasedo and Tess, he laughed. Oh if I had only known you’d be around 50 years ago!
She looks at him blankly.
Oh you poor clueless human, he laughed.
You’re pregnant, he laughed. You’re carrying his child!
Liz is frozen, stunned.
That can’t be, she says haltingly.
I can smell it on you, he said. Antarians can smell when a female is with child, if the father is an Antarian. Call it a crazy species quirk, he laughs.
He slaps his knee in mirth.
I thought I had royally fucked everything up when I came to you as the future version of Max, he laughed. I guess it wasn’t a mistake at all!
Liz pales visibly. It was a lie. Everything she had done, everything she had sacrificed was all for a lie.
His laughter fades.
Still, he says, I don’t believe you hate him. But we’ll take care of you in short order.
He comes to stand before her and she shrinks from him, but he lays his hands on her head and she starts to scream and scream and scream.
Just when I think I can’t stand it any more, her mind goes blank.
She can’t speak. He has taken her ability to speak. He has taken everything from her, except her child.
She is bereft of feeling. She knows that once Max is taken, the life of her child and her own would be worth nothing. If she tries to leave, she knows Michael or Isabel will find her and kill her. She doesn’t know if Max would have the heart to do it, but if he didn’t, they would take care of their own.
She thinks of Alex, cold in his grave.
Maria and Kyle were sure to be gone with the rest of them soon enough, and there was nothing she could do about it. Humans have been taken prisoner. The world is at war. And all because of Max Evans and his group.
There is no way out of this place. She knows Tess is here somewhere, but Khivar keeps her away. No need to stir up the girl. She can’t communicate. She comes to Khivar when she is called.
He waits, knowing it is only a matter of time before the baby in her womb starts to communicate with its father. It’s only a matter of time. All they need to do is to sit and wait.
He talks to Liz, tells her things, because she can’t say anything back. I can feel she is somehow damaged by what he has done to her. The endless torture of those visions he played in her head over and over again left her numb finally, mercifully. She has shut down.
She listens over and over to him tell of his hatred of me, or the wrongs I have done to him. But they don’t penetrate her mind.
Months go by as she walks around almost comatose outwardly, the ice around her heart put there by Khivar growing ever thicker as each day passes. The niggling sensations and protests at the back of her mind are growing ever dimmer.
Her belly is getting larger, her body more cumbersome, but she barely notices. Time passes without commiseration, and she is eight months along, and still he has not come.
Khivar is getting impatient, but he knows that I will make my move eventually. He puts word out to the resistance of Liz’s hatred, of her derision for Max. Not many know of her disability, her lack of speech. He gives the network photos of her smiling. He tells her how to pose, she does it without protest. She is smiling, her belly larger. She is eating with Khivar. Following him, her hand on his arm.
I saw those photos. I believed them completely. We all did.
She too has seen the photos, has heard the rumors spread by Khivar. She knows what we think, and she doesn’t care anymore.
A week before Michael broke into the compound, Liz is finally confronted by Tess. Her heart has been frozen so long that the emotions the sight of her conjures are painful. Tess scowls at her, and Liz stood her ground, agitated.
I’m not supposed to be here, Tess says.
Liz points to the door, silently asking her to leave.
I have something to say, Tess says.
Liz jabs at the door again.
No, I’m going to finish Tess said petulantly.
Liz lets out an unintelligible shriek and tries to claw her eyes.
Give it a rest, Tess says, shoving her away.
She laughs at Liz.
You’re pathetic, she says. You should left well enough alone, and maybe you wouldn’t be in the situation you’re in now. He was selfish, didn’t you know that? She asked.
Liz felt a twinge of some long forgotten emotion.
He was selfish with you, and he was selfish with me. When he was with me, he wanted you. But he was supposed to be with me! I still don’t understand how you got pregnant and I didn’t. I mean, as far as he knew, that was the most mind-blowing sex he’ll ever have, even if it was forced on him.
Liz looks at her confused, and for the first time since she was captured, she picks up the tablet and pen that had been sitting untouched on the table.
She scribbles quickly.
What is that supposed to mean?
Tess smiles at her.
It means yes we had sex, but he needed a little prodding from me, she says.
I can do more than make people see things. I can make them do things. I thought you would have figured that out after Alex, you dimwit, she says in disgust.
I feel a sense of relief that it wasn’t exactly me with Tess, and then the heartache of the consequences of what happened between us. And then my anger toward Tess turns blinding, and I hate her more than I have ever hated anything in my life.
Liz stares at her for a moment.
Why? She writes.
Because I needed to give him a reason to leave. A child would be that reason, wouldn’t it? She asks.
Liz shakes her head, with a contemptuous smile, and writes again.
He never loved you. Why couldn’t you face that?
Tess smirked at her. It didn’t matter whether he loved me. It didn’t matter the first time. I never loved him either. I wanted him dead the first time around. He is a bleeding heart. He always will be. He is weak. And the human part of him only accentuated that.
And with that, Liz felt the first crack in the iceberg that had become her heart.
Not weak! Her mind cries, as her hands move to her belly, feeling the life inside of her for the first time.
Khivar comes into the room and sees Tess. He is furious, and rages over her insolence.
Liz drops her hands from her belly, her eyes going dull again. But inside, her mind works furiously, and the long dormant feelings she had for me flicker and slowly smolder.
Not weak! Her mind rages again.
Khivar throws Tess out again and studies Liz. She drops her head, and slowly walks to him, putting his hand on his arm.
I am sorry about that my pretty, he says patting her arm. She could be dangerous around you.
Liz concentrates on keeping her gaze ahead, indifferent, while inside her emotions threaten to overwhelm her.
My child, she thinks wonderingly. Our child. And forgiveness. She feels true forgiveness toward me. And she hates herself for shutting down for so long. She should have been stronger. For their child, their son. But she’ll make it right somehow.
A small connection flares between her and our son for a split second, and for that instant, she feels *me* through him. I never felt her, but she felt me. And it is comforting for that small time, and she then she shuts it down again. If she was going to make this right, she had to, as painful as it was. She knew I could not know of her awakening. She cannot stay here, and she cannot come back to me. Not after her weakness, not after she couldn’t be strong.
She had made up her mind. She would kill Khivar herself, no matter what the cost. And she would escape with our son, away from us, away from everything. Somehow she would do it.
And for those last two weeks she waits, playing the game.
Then the moment arrives. She is with Khivar. She sees Michael, and she knows this is it, her only chance.
Michael attacks Khivar, but he is too powerful, too quick. He overtakes Michael, and he is hurting him, burning his mind. And then Michael is still, and yet he continues to torture him with malicious glee. He is so caught up in it, he never sees Liz go to the control panel, setting off the perimeter alarms, and then she picks up the sword Khivar keeps near his chair, and she runs him through, watching the surprise on his face as she allows the fire that has been burning in her soul for weeks o show in her eyes for the first time since she came here.
He gasps, trying to grab her, and she steps back.
Rot in hell, she thinks as she hisses at him as he takes his last breath.
She is about to flee and stops, looking at Michael. She cannot leave him here, even though she knows she has precious little time to get out herself. She knows he hates her, but she knows how much I love him. He is my brother, if not by blood, than certainly in every other way. She grabs a gun for their protection.
She tries to drag him, and she is able to drag him out into the hall into an alcove before the first blinding pain rips through her body and she falls to her knees. She tries to get up, but the pain is too intense, and she is felled by it. All around is chaos. Guards are running through the corridor. She had jammed the keypad to Khivar’s quarters, but it was only a matter of time before they found out his fate. She has to get out, get away from Michael, get away from this place before it is too late.
Then she sees Michael stir. She panics, pointing the gun at him, anything to keep him away, trying to get up again, and the next searing pain wracks her belly, and she doubles over. Michael sees her and grabs her arm and she lets out a wretched scream, trying to wrench her arm from his grasp, but he is too strong. He yells at her and she whimpers, and he grabs the gun.
He drags her with him, using his powers against anyone that got in their way, and by some miracle they made it out. He spots a Hummer, a vehicle of Khivar’s minions, and he puts her in the passenger seat, melting the door so she can’t escape, and they are gone.
It was an hour back to Roswell. He goads her, tries to get her to talk, but she couldn’t even if she wants to, and so she is silent, an occasional whimper floating from her lips as she double over when the pain comes in shorter and shorter intervals. He hates her, she can see it. She doesn’t blame him. She knows what they have heard. She knows what they have seen.
She is being dragged out of the seat into Michael’s arms, and he is shouting at the door of the bomb shelter.
As he hurries through, she catches a glimpse of me, and her heart breaks. She knows they will not let me near her. They don’t trust me, she knows it. Even though hate and hurt are echoed in my eyes.
And then the pain takes away all her rational thought until she hears the first cry of our son, and she can see me through the glass, and her heart swells once again when she sees my face. After all she’s been through she still loves me.
I stand before her now with tears in my eyes, for all she suffered because she knew me, for the way she thinks she failed me, for the way that I failed her.
Her eyes look up and meet mine, shamed, and I want to take look of shame away. I never want to see it again, because she is the bravest person I have ever known, and she suffered unimaginable things to know me.
She lets out a gutteral strangled cry, and I see she is frustrated.
I gently take my hand away from her wrist, and place both of my hands on her temples gently, and she tries again to pull away, but I hold her still and close my eyes.
I can feel the damage he has done to her. He has taken away her ability to form words, has killed that part of her brain. He has taken that from her, but I will give it back. For long moments I concentrate on repairing the destruction Khivar wrought on her. I can see cells knitting themselves together, tissue regenerating itself. And it is done.
I open my eyes and slowly take my hands from her, kneeling beside the bed, willing her to look at me.
It’s not your fault, I whisper to her softly. You are so brave Liz Parker. I have never known anyone like you in my life, and I am proud that someone like you could love me.
She bites her lip and turns her head toward me, her mouth trembling.
Mmm…Max, she says tearfully.
Shhh, I tell her, and I put my arm around her. I know everything, and it’s going to be all right.
She shakes her head.
The baby let out a little whimper in her arms, and without realizing it, we both are drawn to him, smiling.
I can’t believe he is ours, I say to her. He’s a part of both of us, you and me.
She nods, tears filling her eyes.
I look to the glass and I see them all staring at me. I see you, human observer watching us. Maria has her hand over her mouth, and she is crying. Michael just stares. Isabel looks at me questioningly. I have some explaining to do, but not just yet. Now I need to be with my son, and the girl I have always loved, the girl who gave up everything for me.
Chaos still prevails outside. Khivar’s army is in chaos, a weapon of destruction without a leader. Humans have already overtaken some of the camps. The resistance grows stronger, and the rebellion against the skins progresses. Some of the skins have joined the humans. Before they lived under Khivar’s tyranny, and they leaped at the opportunity to jump ship. Tess is still out there, somewhere. I will deal with her sooner or later. I swear it, she will live to regret that she was ever a part of Khivar’s plan.
I told them of what Liz had done. I told them that she killed Khivar. I told them of the horrors she went through while she was in the compound. Michael feels the worst of all, because he was so rough on her. He couldn’t have known she killed Khivar, she couldn’t tell him, but still he lives with the guilt.
We named our son Zan. Appropriate, isn’t it? He grows stronger every day. I can see it.
Liz and I live with the consequences of our actions day by day. I don’t know anything these days, except that I love her. And for now, that’s enough for me. Still, the guilt threatens to overwhelm me sometimes. She hasn’t spoken much, but she feels my pain, the burden I carry.
Today was different. Today as I sat with her while she nursed Zan, she looked at me, and she saw what I was feeling written on my face. She touched my cheek gently and looked into my eyes. She speaks haltingly still.
Max…you…have to stop this, she says. We both….have to stop this. Neither one of us….can keep living this way. What…we….did, is done. We have our son….and a second chance. Maybe we can make it right with him.
I looked at her tenderly, wishing for the millionth time that I could take all of this back.
She holds Zan out to me, and I take him, holding him close to my heart. As I look down into his curious eyes, I feel joy fill my heart.
He has ….the best parts of you Max, I can feel it, she says, watching us.
And you, I say softly. She smiles at me.
Someday…he is going to be a great….leader, she says.
I look up at her.
How do you know that? I ask.
I just do, she said with quiet assurance.
I…love you Max, she says tentatively.
I love you too, I whisper to her, leaning over to kiss her forehead gently.
I know now that no matter what lies ahead for us, that she was right all along. We can face anything, as long as we are together. I look down at my son, the future, our future, and somehow I know that we would have that chance with him, the chance to right what has been wronged, the chance to change the world, finally.
Well I just heard the news today
It seems my life is going to change
I closed my eyes, begin to pray
Then tears of joy stream down my face
With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Well I don't know if I'm ready
To be the man I have to be
I'll take a breath, take her by my side
We stand in awe, we've created life
With arms wide open
Under the sunlight
Welcome to this place
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
Now everything has changed
I'll show you love
I'll show you everything
With arms wide open
If I had just one wish
Only one demand
I hope he's not like me
I hope he understands
That he can take this life
And hold it by the hand
And he can greet the world
With arms wide open...
[ edited 1 time(s), last at 4-Nov-2001 1:08:24 PM ]