"The Other" |
Part 4 by Chrystal Kay |
Disclaimer: I don’t have any claim or rights to any of the Roswell or Pretender characters.
They belong to the great people who created them. Summary: This takes place during and after ‘The End of the World’. There are no skins here, just Max, Future Max, Liz and the gang. Category: Crossovers Rating: PG Authors Note: There has to be another explanation for Future Max disappearing. You and I know that Max could never fall out of love with Liz. Right? Add a little ‘Pretender’ intervention and…well we’ll see what happens. |
*** Roswell, New Mexico: 11:00 PM: “I’m Liz Parker and this has been a really long day.” ‘It seems that now every day is a really long day.’ She thought to herself. Liz bit gently on the end of her pen as she gazed at the top of her roof ladder. She was thinking about how wonderful it would be if everything was as it should be, and Max would come peeking over the edge. If only she could hold him one more time. “It tears my heart out to think that I have to make Max fall out of love with me. How will I live?” She sat drawing a line around those last four words. The tears dropping unheeded into her lap. “Why is it that our love has to endanger their lives and my whole world? But that’s the problem isn’t it? Max would never lie to me. Not the now Max and not the future Max. If he says it’s so, then it is.” Now she dropped her pen and put both hands to her face. ‘But why, oh why does it have to be us?’ She sobbed. The future Max sat watching from a nearby roof top, wrapped in a blanket he had borrowed from Liz. He had to give her some space tonight to adjust to the whole idea, but watching her, watching what it was doing to her was tearing him up. ‘Oh Liz, if there was only some other way.’ He thought. ‘ I would rather give up breathing than do this to you. To us.’ *** The young man in question was pacing the floor at that moment. All day he had had an uneasy feeling. Disaster was approaching. But from where or from whom, he did not know. These feelings had saved his bacon many times and he wasn’t about to discount this one. He didn’t dare go to bed. He felt he should run, but in which direction? A backpack was loaded and standing by the door. The last time he had felt such an overpowering dread was when his brother had disappeared. He had felt the very moment of his brother’s death. He had even heard him call out his name. The memory sent shudders of re-opened grief through him. Alone, in all the world. Was there one person who could understand him? Who would accept him as he really was? There was one person who could help him, but he didn’t have any idea who he was. Just a face in a dream. A rather likable face, with a kind of boyish smile; but where was he and how could he help? Finally, the feeling of foreboding became overpowering. He grabbed his backpack and jacket and flew out the back door. As he fled down the back alley, two cars came screeching to a halt at the front of his house. He cut across a back yard and between two houses, to the next street. A strange car there immediately put him on his guard. It was a low fast looking sports car. Definitely not the type people around here would consider. He started to walk slowly by, trying to look tired and bored. Just someone on his way home. ‘Think normal’ he thought. But the man in the car jumped out and called his name. Luke turned, ready to blast him and run, but even in the partial light of the moon, he recognized the man from his dreams. The man called out again. “Please! I need to talk to you.” Luke turned, threw his pack in the back seat, jumped in and asked. “Can you talk and drive at the same time?” Five minutes later they were speeding down highway seventeen toward Winnipeg. Three hours later, they were in a little motel south of the Canadian border, on route 29. |
Part 3 | Index | Part 5 |