FanFic - Max/Liz
"Dark Side of the Sun"
Part 3
by Tamara
Disclaimer: Only the storyline and Tristan are mine. Everything else belongs to some others.
Summary: What if Liz, Maria and Alex weren’t the first people to know about Max, Isabel and Michael’s alien-ness?
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: R
Authors Note: This story takes place during the groups senior year, and may take some liberties with the past. Everyone normal are couples (ie M/L M/M I/A) and Tess... ran away to become a Harlem Globetrotter.. who knows, you will just have to read and find out, now won’t you. I want to give mucho thanks to Amy.
Tristan and Liz stood at the top of the stairs that lead down to the restaurant. “You won’t tell them? You promise?” he asked again, needing the confirmation just one more time.

“I promise. Not until you’re ready.” She waited for him to make some smart alec comment on how that would happen when pigs flew, or when Michael’s hair didn’t spike anymore, but it never came. She looked down to see his hands shaking. It unnerved her. She took one of them in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He turned to look at her, and she was again caught off guard by just how blue his eyes really were. After an intense moment he turned, gazing down the stairs. He took a deep breath and said, “Okay, it’s now or never.” She gave his hand another squeeze. This time his response was a smile.

Max turned his head when he heard the door to from the back room swing open. Liz and Tristan walked through the door hand in hand. For a moment Max couldn’t breathe. His mind went blank and his mouth felt dry and sticky. As they approached the table their hands slowly drifted apart, and Max let out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. Liz took her place next to Max, while Tristan grabbed an empty chair and sat at the foot of the table. A tense silence followed. No one quite knew what to say. Questions of where Tristan had been, why he had disappeared swam through all their minds. And the only thing Tristan could think about was the voice. It was a voice he hadn’t heard for nearly a year, and yet it was as familiar to him as his own. He closed his eyes and fought the growing nausea that rose in his body. His gaze shifted to look at Liz. She was talking softly to Max, so he looked away. He didn’t want her to see him looking at her. He chastised himself again for all that had happened. He knew he shouldn’t have gone to the Crashdown the night before, he knew he shouldn’t have stayed when she offered. But he couldn’t help himself. The prospect of a dry, warm night in a room with her was too good to pass up. He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t notice Maria observing him. She tried to not obviously, out right, stare at him, but the temptation was too much. She too had seen Tristan and Liz come into the room hand in hand, and had seen Tristan sneak a look at Liz the moment ago. She itched to ask what had happened the night before, where he had been, why he didn’t come back to Max and Isabel’s.

“Have a good time out on the town last night?” she asked him. It was as if her mouth took on a mind of its own, which she had to admit it sometimes did. All eyes turned on Maria, then slowly to Tristan waiting for his answer. His mouth opened slightly and he got a deer in headlights look. His heartbeat grew rapid, and his breathing short and shallow. With a pleading look, he turned his eyes to Liz, who immediately cut in. “Come on guys, I don’t think he needs an interrogation right now.” she tried to smile, but feared it came out as more of a grimace.

Alex surprised her by speaking up in Tristan’s defense, “Yeah, he’s had a rough night. Let’s just do the breakfast thing. We can talk about the events of last night, whatever they were, later.”

There were a few mumbled okays, as all their heads bowed to stare at menus they had long ago memorized. A few minutes after their food arrived, Tristan muttered something about needing to use the bathroom, and quickly left the table. Max turned his head to watch him walk away, when he turned back Liz was looking at him. “It’s going to be alright.” she said softly, laying her small hand on his arm, “he just needs some time.”

He gave her a hard look. In his heart of hearts he wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that everything would turn out for the best. But he knew that life didn’t work like that. Bad things happened to good people all the time. It was just something you couldn’t control. His mind was clouded. A thick fog of jealousy and wariness had settled over it, giving him an uneasy feeling.

A few minutes passed and Tristan still hadn’t returned from the bathroom. Isabel watched as Max checked his watch for the third time, “Maybe one of you should go check on him.” she said to the guys.

“Isabel, I think the boy can take a leak on his own.” Michael said.

“Yeah,” Alex continued, “what would we do? Hold it for him.” Both he and Michael laughed.

“You two are sick.” Maria said, shaking her head.

“Well I am going to go and check.” Isabel said forcefully as she began to push her way out of the booth.

“You can’t go in there.” Max told her.

“Watch me.” she said, striding purposely towards the bathroom.

“Are you just going to let her go?” Liz asked the rest of the group.

“Could any of us really stop her?” Alex said with a shrug.

Isabel knocked softly on the bathroom door. “Tris?” she called through the door. Getting no response, she slowly opened it and peered inside. “Tristan?” she called again. The room was empty. “Where are you?” she whispered to herself. As she stood there contemplating what to do next, she heard a rustling coming from the back area of the restaurant. When she walked through the door she found Tristan slipping out the back door. “What are you doing?” she practically shouted, grabbing his arm.

“I have to go, I’ll be back later.” he said, shaking her off.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

“This is important, Isabel.” he pleaded.

“They are important!” she hissed, pointing towards the dining room.

He turned and looked away from her. “Isabel, you don’t understand what is going on. I have to go.”

“So make me understand. Tell me what is going on, where you were last night.” she could feel hot tears burning in her eyes, but willed them not to fall.

He didn’t answer.

“What happened to you, Tristan?” she said quietly. “You used to be like the sun, full of light and laughter.”

“Well, people change.” There was a bitterness to his voice that she had never heard before.

“No, not you!” she shouted. Tears began running down her cheeks.

He finally turned to face her. “Yeah, Isabel. Even me.” **********************************************************

Tristan found himself drawn to the desert. It was where he was most comfortable in life, and when he imagined heaven, he imagined it to be an endless desert. He purposely avoided the places that he, Michael, Max, and Isabel used to haunt, they were too real for him. He felt wrong going there. Like he would be betraying someone. So he stuck to the rest of the open landscape that surrounded Roswell. Somehow it felt all to familiar. He almost wanted it to feel uneasy, like he was out of place. But he couldn’t. He found a large rock, carved by years of rain and wind, and sat down on the edge, determined to try and enjoy the quiet solitude. But it was short lived.

“Tristan.”

It was that familiar voice that gave him an acidy feeling in the pit of his stomach. This time he stood, and turned to face it. “Javid.” he said in a measured tone. He tried to slow down his rapidly beating heart, this was a man to whom you didn’t show fear. Man, Tristan laughed to himself at the thought. He wasn’t a man, he wasn’t even a person. In Tristan’s eyes he was Satan himself.

“I knew you’d come back here.” he spoke in a calm, deliberate tone. He always spoke like that, and it never failed to send chills down Tristan’s spine.

“What’d you do? Call the psychic network?”

“I knew you would follow your destiny.”

“Would you shut up about my stupid destiny! I do not kill people!”

“What about the female. What did they call her, Tess?”

He had no snappy remark for that one. In fact, he had no answer at all. All he could do was glare at the alien that stood before him.

“Tristan, this is your destiny. This is what you were placed on this planet to do. Most people live their entire lives without knowing what their reason for being here is. You have known yours since you were fourteen years old.”

“Oh yeah, I am so much more lucky than most people. I was put on this earth to kill! Gee, imagine my luck. But at least I know it and don’t have to live my entire life waiting to find out.”

“It is your destiny.”

“Screw my destiny! I am a man, I make my own destiny.”

“You are not a man, don’t try and kid yourself. You are no more a human than I am, and less man than both Max and Michael. This is not your planet, this is not where you belong.”

Tristan turned away from him. Although he would never admit it out loud, he knew he was right.

*******************************************************

Tristan got back to the Evans house a little past six that evening. He stood on the porch for a minute, his finger frozen in mid air as it went to press the doorbell. Should he even be here, he thought to himself. He knew he was just hurting those around him with his constant disappearances and reappearance’s. But what else could he really do? Now that he was here, back in Roswell with the people he trusted and loved the most, he wasn’t sure he could ever leave again. His thoughts were interrupted as the door suddenly swung open. He stepped backwards slightly, to see Mrs. Evan’s standing in the doorway looking just as shocked.

“Tristan,” she said, putting her hand over her now pounding heart, “You scared me.”

“I, I’m sorry.” he said uncomfortably, “I didn’t mean to.”

Diane Evans swiftly pulled him into a tight hug. “My god, Isabel told me you were back. How are you?” she released him and held him at arms length, “You look good. Are you eating enough?”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little. It had been a very long time since he had been mothered. “Um, is Isabel here?” he asked peering into the house.

“No, she and Max went to the Crashdown for dinner I believe.”

“Oh.” he said, taking a deep breath. “The Crashdown, great. Thank you.”

He began to turn and walk away when she called out to him, “Tristan, wait. I am headed that way. Let me drive you.” He turned, but before he could say anything she spoke up, “I insist. Come on, we can catch up a bit.”

After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived at the Crashdown. Before Tristan could leave the car, Mrs. Evans reached over and kissed him on the cheek. He ducked his head and blushed at this open act of caring. “I really have missed you.” she said, her eyes starting to tear, “Don’t make yourself a stranger.” Without a last look, he jumped out of the car and headed into the restaurant.

It wasn’t all that busy, and he quickly saw Max, Michael, Isabel and Alex sitting at a booth; Maria was standing next to Michael in her waitressing uniform. They were all laughing at something someone had said. He glanced around the rest of the place, and found Liz standing at the counter looking back at him. He gave her a slight smile, and she responded in kind.

Maria turned just in time to see Liz return Tristan’s smile. She frowned at her friend, and walked over to the counter. “What are you doing?” she asked her tersely. “Filling the salt shakers.” Liz replied.

“So is that what they call flirting with one of your boyfriends oldest friends who has just reappeared after a four year mysterious disappearance? Hmm, I will have to add that to my slang list.”

“What are you talking about, Maria?”

“Tristan, and that look you just gave him when he came in.”

“Look? What look? I smiled. So what?”

“No, that wasn’t just a smile. That was a ‘come visit me in my room again tonight baby baby’ smile. That smile spoke volumes.”

“He’s going through a tough time.” Liz said, shaking off her friend to take a customers order.

“Tough time my ass.” Maria said under her breath as she went to the cash register. Max was there with Isabel and Alex behind him. She noticed that Michael and Tristan were standing near the door deep in conversation. She frowned when she saw the looks on their faces. Michael looked pained, and Tristan refused to meet his eyes.

Max turned around to see what Maria was looking at and froze when he saw Michael and Tristan. He could see that Michael was close to losing control, and Tristan’s normally cool demeanor was beginning to crack as well. He stiffened his body and prepared to intervene, but before he could both boys walked outside into the cool, dark, night. He watched through the front window as the two old friends confronted each other.

************************************************************

“Where were you today?”

“Michael...”

“No, don’t Michael me! You just up and leave and don’t tell anyone where you are going or anything.”

“Hey look! I came back!”

“Yeah, tonight.”

“You aren’t my keeper, I don’t have to report to you.”

“No, but you do owe me an explanation. Where did you go today? And what about last night? What happened? Where were you?”

“I told you, I had some stuff to take care of.” He stepped towards him until they were toe to toe, nose to nose.

“What are you hiding?”

Tristan didn’t answer. His blue eyes bore into Michael’s brown ones. It was a game of flinch that neither was willing to lose. Tristan finally blinked and looked away. He stared at a distant piece of sidewalk as if it would move at any time.

Michael reached out and put his and on Tristan’s shoulder. “I just want to know what’s going on.” he said softly, “I just want to help you.”

Tristan’s eyes returned to his, but he remained silent. Michael opened his mouth to continue, but stopped when he saw the others approaching. He gave Tristan’s shoulder a squeeze, and began to walk towards his friends.

********************************************************************

Tristan awoke with a start. It was dark and it took him a few moments to realize where he was. “Max’s bedroom.” he repeated quietly to himself, “I am safe in Max’s bedroom.” He slowly ran his hand over his face, wiping off some of the sweat that now covered him. He continued to lay there for a few minutes, trying to match his own ragged breathing to Max’s steady, slow breaths. After his talk, if you could even call it that, with Michael, Max and Isabel had convinced him to come back to their house with them. Then they went a step farther, and with the help of their mother, convinced him to stay the night. And now here he was, laying in a sleeping bag, soaked with sweat, on Max’s bedroom floor. He turned over in the bag to face Max, who was quietly talking in his sleep. A smile touched Tristan’s face. Max used to talk in his sleep when they were kids. One night he and Michael had figured out that if you lightly tickled his feet, he would talk even louder. They had spent the entire night trying to quiet their giggles as they listened to Max ramble on about trees and the dolphin Flipper and things they couldn’t quite understand. He turned over onto his back and ran his hands through his hair, frowning at the feeling of dampness the sweat had caused. He took a deep breath and tried to regain his control. After a few breaths, he realized it wasn’t working. The way the moon light came in through the window, Max, the feel of the floor, even the smell was too much. He suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He had to get out. A noise in the hall made him freeze just as he began to climb out the window. He held his breath and listened closely. Convinced it was safe, he slipped out of the window and headed to the first place he thought of.

Index | Part 4