Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Don't sue,
I'll cry. ;p
Summary: A short fiction told from Liz's
point-of-view as she realizes what can never be.
Rating: PG
Classification: Liz POV
Spoilers: Season 2
Author's Note: I have no idea why my mind
insists on torturing these characters through "what if" scenarios. No, this is
not at all what I want to happen but yes, I did write it anyway.
- - -
It's May 22, 2001. I'm Liz Parker,
and lately I've been thinking a lot. A lot about Max, a lot about Tess, a lot
about Isabel and Michael. A lot about Alex, and a lot about myself as well.
I could hardly sleep last night, I kept tossing and turning, and when I woke up
this morning I didn't feel rested at all. But the secrets and the lies of the
past year are all coming back to haunt me like whispers from ghosts. And they're
lies and secrets that I don't want to hear - - some that are my fault, which
I've tried to shove to the farthest possible corner of my mind, and some that
are the fault of others... those seem to be the louder whispers, and those will
be the most difficult to silence.
Nobody talked much after that scene yesterday in the desert. We all just went
back home, and resumed our lives as if nothing extroardinary had just taken
place. Maria called last night... she wanted to see how I was doing. She wanted
to talk about Alex. I think maybe the repercussions of all that has happened are
still coming, and that we're not even close to being out of the bleakness of not
knowing who and what we are. And I mean that for everyone involved... not just
Maria and me.
She was crying on the phone last night. It's always been a given that Maria
could shed tears on a whim - - she's emotional like that. The older we get, the
more difficult it becomes to know what to say to comfort her, especially when
I'm in need of the same type of comfort myself.
Maria told me she wasn't a virgin anymore, that she and Michael had "traveled
into bliss" as she put it. And she told me that he said he didn't want to leave
her. He wouldn't have. He would have stayed. You know, it's hard to define what
I felt when I saw him emerge from that giant rock in the desert, with no one
behind him. I don't know what I should have expected, after all that has
happened, especially in the last few weeks... but my heart cried out, despite
everything, when I realized Max wouldn't have stayed.
I don't know what Max said to Tess after I yelled out that she was to blame. I
doubt I really want to know. It's none of my business, anyway. Sometimes I get
these intense urges to lash out at her for what she did to Alex, to all of us.
But I can't, for she's gone, and so eventually I calm down and sink back into
the rational state of mind that will always be mine.
I don't know where that rational state of mind was when I fell into Max's arms
in the desert yesterday. I guess after all that had happened, and all that we
now knew the truth about, I was overwhelmed and for a second I wanted nothing
more than to feel him close to me, where I could hear that timely rhythm in the
beating of his heart. For a few seconds there, I lost myself in all that was Max
again, wanting to believe everything would be alright because he was still here,
and he didn't leave. But those are a wistful little girl's thoughts. Those are
the thoughts of a girl that died a year ago, in that very same spot in the New
Mexico desert.
My mind keeps sifting through the yesterdays, during a time before everything in
my life was so complicated, before everything that I wanted the most in the
world was forbidden. When I feel the desperate need to smile just to keep myself
from breaking down, I think back to that day in The Crashdown, and that look of
fear and love I saw in Max's eyes as he begged for me to look at him. I can feel
again the unreal sensation as my skin closed up around the wound and my pain
disintegrated into thin air.
I think back to that night that seems so far away, when I brought Max to the
reservation, and River Dog showed us the cave with Max's language on the walls.
A language that he could probably decifer now, thanks to Alex. I can so vividly
remember the fear that forced me to scream as I was ripped away from Max in the
darkness of the cave. I can remember the relief I felt like a blanket draped
over my shoulders as Max created light and therefore passed the test.
I didn't understand the motivation behind his words at the time, but now as I
look back I wish I had listened closer to River Dog's warning. He reached out
and grabbed my hand, pulling me back towards him. "Wait, wait," he said, "You're
not one of them. Make sure he deserves your trust." My eyes must have shown the
naïve quality in my spirit as I stared at him in a lost way. But when Max held
out his hand to me, eagerly I accepted it, blinded by the teenage fantasy of
being in love.
I don't regret that day. I don't regret anything that Max and I shared together
during our first year of close friendship that sometimes sparked into something
more. It's everything that happened afterwards that I look back on with a sour
taste in the depths of my throat.
Just because I understand Max's fate doesn't mean I accept it. I may pretend to
in such a way that even he was convinced for awhile, but there's something so
wrong when you think you've found your soulmate only to be informed that it was
never meant to be. I've talked so much and heard so much about things having to
be a certain way for a reason, because they're Max's destiny. But what is MY
destiny? What if he really is my soulmate, and eventually his real choice will
have to be between me and his responsibilities on his home planet? It almost
frightens me to contemplate what his decision would be.
Whether I love Max Evans or not isn't in question. From all that's happened and
all that I'm sure is yet to come, I've drawn the morbid yet necessary conclusion
that it can never be. Max and I were never meant to be together, or else fate
wouldn't work so hard to brutally shove us apart. He's made mistakes and so have
I, and there's no doubt in my mind I'll be reminded of all that went wrong and
all that was never meant to be every time I see his face.
Like the foreboding words of a wiseman that I should have paid more attention
to, the sentence that will leave me forever with a broken heart echoes in the
wind: You're not one of them...
The End.
