"Say A Little Prayer" |
Part 2 by Anne |
Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Yada, yada, yada. Category: Max/Liz Rating: PG-13 Authors Note: Definitely spoilerish if you haven't seen the finale. Lyrics . . . Pam Tillis. |
So, say a little prayer for me. My future is so clear. My dreams are not the issue here, and I can feel your fear . . . . Liz groped for the handle of the sheriff's truck and finally managed to somehow open the door and crawl inside. She sat there numbly looking ahead of her but seeing nothing. Flashes of the past two days revolved around inside of her head. She wondered if they would ever stop or if this was all she would ever see for the rest of her life. *Max . . . no, not Max . . . asking her to go away with him . . . joy . . . . happiness . . . . confusion . . . . . . shock . . . . revulsion . . . . terror . . . . . . . hope . . . . . . . despair . . . . . . . . and now, nothing . . . . empty* Maria and Alex were lost in their own private misery in the back seat, but not so much so that they weren't scared to death for their best friend. Maria pushed past her own pain momentarily, just long enough to put her hand on Liz's shoulder, only to find that it was cold and stiff and unresponsive. She felt like a corpse. Maria withdrew her hand and sat back in her seat wondering if any of them would ever be the same . . . . (harsh, nearly hysterical laughter sounded in her head) no, they would never be the same . . . Alex stared at the back of Liz's head, wishing he could do something to help her, to help Maria, to help himself . . . but there was nothing to be done. It had all played out just the way he should have expected, but didn't. Sheriff Valenti started the engine and shook himself mentally. He had to concentrate on getting these kids home safely and convincing their parents of where they'd been. He had lucid moments like now, but every few minutes the vision of his son lying in a pool of blood flashed across his mind's eye and reason was washed away in a red tide. Max Evans had saved his son . . . the same way he had saved Liz Parker. He determined to do whatever he could to help the man who had saved his son. Whatever that might mean . . . . Max took several steps away from the others and tried to control the emotions that threatened to tear him apart. Liz was gone . . . he had watched her walk away and then watched as the Sheriff drove her away in his truck. Gone. Hadn't he known it would come to this one day? Hadn't he tried to spare them this? But, in the end he couldn't. He loved her too much. He couldn't stay away from her . . . and no matter what that orb had said, he still loved her . . . Michael rubbed his forehead and swore. Kyle Valenti, Sheriff Valenti, the whole damn world knew about them now. The feeling of exposure and vulnerability made him physically ill. Max had saved Kyle's life. Maybe the Sheriff would protect them now . . . he had seemed painfully grateful as he loaded his injured son into the back of the truck. Michael glanced at Isabel, standing woodenly by his side, and searched for something to say to her. No words came. There weren't any . . . Tess watched Max and felt the first doubts she'd had since this whole thing started. He was devastated. The look on his face was so utterly lost, that she began to wonder if she could make him forget about Liz. For the first time, she wavered. Could she bear to live out the rest of her life in the shadow of Liz Parker? Never being good enough? Always being compared to someone she could never be? Never being appreciated for who she was? She follows the path of least resistance And she rolls, she's a river. Liz stared up at the sky from her rooftop and felt the blood slide through her veins as if she were still alive. Didn't it know she had died today? Why did it keep moving along as if nothing had happened? Somewhere over the next few minutes, she became aware that the pain she was feeling didn't entirely belong to her. Although, hers was certainly enough. But, something here wasn't right. She searched her mind and her heart and understanding poured through dimmed thought processes. Max was in agony . . . because of her . . . because she had walked away . . . and she was facing not only her own loss, but his, as well. He's headed for a single destination And he rolls, he's a highway Max heard the buzz of conversation around him and every so often tried to tune in to what was being said, but in the end he really had no interest and just couldn't quite get it. His parents were deeply relieved to have their children home safe and sound, and apparently, Sheriff Valenti had already covered their tracks efficiently, leaving no room for question. Everything was back to normal . . . more or less. Less Liz. Less the other half of himself . . . He got up then and mumbled something to the group about being tired and walked to his bedroom, closing the door. His mother watched him frowning in worry and turning to Isabel and Michael and Tess with wide, frightened eyes. What was wrong with her son? Had something happened that they hadn't been told about? Isabel returned her mother's stare, but found nothing of comfort to offer her. Michael, realizing that something had to be said, summoned up the most ridiculous lie he had ever told. Michael: "He'll be alright, Mrs. Evans. He's just really tired. Tomorrow he'll be as good as new." Isabel turned then to stare at Michael and wondered that lightning hadn't come streaking down out of the sky and killed them all on the spot. The look on her face must've shown her thoughts, because Michael gave her a severe frown. Understanding the need to convince her mother, she schooled her expression into the closest thing she could come to agreement and nodded. Michael: "I think it's time Tess and I were leaving. We'll be back in the morning." Tess (looking very irritated at having to leave): "Maybe I should spend the night with Isabel." Isabel was truly horrified at that idea right now. She tried not to let her thoughts show on her face, but some of them must've been evident, because Tess looked stricken. Michael grabbed her arm and propelled her toward the door before anything else could go wrong. And every now and then, he offers her a shoulder Max laid back on his bed and determined to face the hurt. Letting the wall down that had held him together since Liz had left, he felt the most intense suffering he had ever imagined and worse. He quickly resurrected that wall in a knee jerk, survival reaction. He couldn't face it. He couldn't even begin . . . And, Liz . . . he could feel her now, too, . . . . . He got up then, and without a whole lot of conscious thought, he crawled out of his bedroom window and walked toward Liz's house. |
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