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Story by Jeslyn

Written by Jeslyn, Annie, Kristin, Liz and Shira

Edited by Liz, Kristin, Lisa, Mark and Tiff




1. “We Haven’t Turned Around“ by Gomez

2. “Things Always Don’t Turn Out That Way“ by The Calling

3. “Come Around“ by Rhett Miller

4. “Ski Ming” by Majandra Delfino





Liz Diary Entry - Wednesday, January 8th, 2003


Observing. I always thought that was a good word. Taking in the world around you. Keeping an eye on the ones you love. Being a spectator to people’s lives. All of these things fall under the subject of observing and, lately, all of these things have become my hobbies. However, when you start really paying attention to the world around you, you start picking up on things that maybe you should have seen… but didn’t.


My observance of my home and the people, my family, living in it has led me to believe that the world around me isn’t what I thought it was – In fact, I’m not even what I seem to be.


If I look in the mirror, a normal-looking nineteen year-old peers back, but appearances can be deceiving. As it turns out...I’m not quite as normal as I thought I was.


Before Max healed me, I was the quintessential teenage girl who would talk to my friends on the phone and eat way too much junk food at sleepovers. It’s been more than four years since that day, and up until a few months ago, I still considered myself technically normal, even after I started to ‘crackle like a piece of tin foil in a microwave’ as Kyle tactfully put it.


But I’m not normal.


I’ve come to realize that I’m an alien too and it seems as if I’m not the only one to join the club. Serena seems to be a full-fledged member, herself.


Lately Serena has been growing more comfortable around us, becoming one of our group – literally. And even though the others have their doubts about her, I can’t help but to trust her completely. It’s a trust based on a bond that I can’t quite explain.


Kyle seems to understand that about Serena. She is the reason he has finally started to feel like part of the group instead of an outside observer caught up in the mess that is our day-to-day lives. After all, he never asked to be a part of any of this. Serena understands that, I think. The more I learn about her, the more she and Kyle seem to be alike. Both were dragged kicking and screaming into this alien abyss, and now they figure they might as well stick around for the ride. They bring out positive changes in each other.


As far as change, it’s the change in Maria that gets to me the most. She goes through all the motions of living a normal day to day life but that spark that always defined Maria and made her stand out in the crowd – that spark that made her seem so bright...is just gone, and every time I look at her, it hurts beyond words.


I miss that part of her – that part that made her my best friend. The one who would be on the other end of those normal phone conversations. The one who would help pick out which chips and cookies we were going to eat. That girl that I knew so well isn’t the same girl walking around Jesse’s apartment. I know we all want the old Maria back desperately, but I’ve noticed how we’ve all adjusted to the way she is now. We’re slowly getting used to the new, lifeless Maria.


Except for Michael. He’s never accepted or adjusted to anything and it doesn’t seem like he’s going to start now. However, lately, he’s just been avoiding what is going on, when he used to spend day and night trying to turn back the hands of time. Max tells me that he is just working a lot, spending a lot of nights at the bar.


I’m not so sure. There’s more to Michael than meets the eye. There always has been.


The thing that worries me the most is that I haven’t seen him talk to anyone about what has been happening with Maria. Not even with Max or Isabel. I know that he blames himself for what happened. However, there seems to be more to it than that, almost as if he is hiding something from the rest of us – something entirely different. It’s like this deep-ridden guilt embedded in his every move.


As I watch him come in the door from another late night at work, I see it, that same look. Yet, it is more than just a look. I can sense it, pouring off of him. This is beyond watching or observing – this time I can actually feel it.


It’s just hit me… and I should have known. After what I have seen this week, it should have been obvious.


Oh, Michael… I should have known…




Monday, January 6th, 2003 - 2 Days Earlier


Sitting at the small desk in their room, while Maria lay asleep in the bed, Michael sat reading through another passage on The Limbic System.


“The Limbic System is sometimes called the ‘Emotional Brain,’ blah… blah… blah...” He read and then scanned down to, “Stimulation of Limbic structures, such as the amygdala, in cats produces a behavioral pattern called rage – the cat extends its claws – oh this is crap.” Michael finished, adding his own ending, then threw the book at the trash can, missing.


Leaning back in his chair, Michael watched Maria sleep.


“I’m getting nowhere,” he quietly said to himself.


At that moment, Maria began to stir, mumbling softly in her sleep.


“We can’t do anything...”


Michael’s eyebrow raised a quarter-inch.




That was interesting enough. Standing up, he crept closer to the bed. Kneeling down next to it, careful not to wake her, he listened.


“This isn’t about loyalty.”


After that, she quieted, but with Michael’s interest piqued, he wanted to know what was happening within the depths of her mind. He was almost positive that it was something that she shouldn’t be seeing and perhaps it was this, which was keeping her void. He clung to hope as he eased down onto the bed next to her and gently took her hand in both of his.


Before he even knew what to expect, he was thrust into the dream. He was seeing everything, played right before his eyes.




His hands gripped into his hair, with his elbows on his knees; head down, Rath tried to focus. It just wasn’t that easy.


His followers were all out in front of him, claiming opinions and boasting suggestions, all of which would be viable if it weren’t for one thing.




Taking a deep breath, Rath looked to Calypso, who sat at his feet next to his chair. Her eyes met his, and he knew what she was thinking. She wanted to know if he would bring his people’s voices to the king.


“Sir!” A voice called from the back of the room and grew louder as two forms fought their way through the crowd. “Sir! Sir Rath!”


Calypso sat up straighter, spying the pair, and then she turned to Rath. “It’s Rian.” She answered his silent question.


Rath nodded. “And the other?”


“A young girl, maybe sixteen, she looks to be a servant.”


Rian, one of Rath’s followers, stopped abruptly in front of Rath, the girl in tow behind nearly colliding with him. “Sir, I bring this girl, she is a servant at Khivar’s estate.”


Everyone within earshot gasped.


Calypso eyed Rian. “What do we care for a servant of Khivar’s?” she asked, Rath raising a hand to silence her.


“Why do you bring a servant here, amongst strangers?” Rath asked curiously. “There had better be a good reason.”


Rian’s features turned more serious. “There is sir...” He trailed, looking from Rath, to the people, and then back to Rath. “She’s heard of Khivar’s plans,” he explained. “They may not be as honorable as he would have us believe.”


Rath leaned forward in his chair, beckoning with his hand for the young girl to come forward. And as she meekly came, Rath could tell she was not of Antarian race, for they had light-colored eyes and hers were almost as violet as Calypso’s.


Calypso eyed the girl who stood before Rath and quirked, “Do you not kneel before your commandants?”


Rath smirked and stifled a laugh. “She will not kneel before me any more than you would kneel before Khivar,” he stated pompously, hearing a few snickers from the crowd. “She knows what it means to be loyal.” He placed heavy emphasis on that last word, directing it towards the crowd with a tilt of his head, the snickers ceasing with shuffling feet. “Now why do you come here?” Rath asked, turning his attention back to the girl.


The girl swallowed. “I care for someone, an Antarian, and I’m afraid that she will not survive Khivar’s intentions.”


“Not survive his intentions!?” Someone called from the crowd, “Khivar wants peace! Which is more than Zan’s willing to bargain!”




“Enough!” Rath said in a silencing command, and as the room quieted, he spoke again to the girl. “What intentions can he bring that would cause harm if he seeks peace?”


The girl contemplated his question and looked from Rath to Calypso, then suddenly came forward to kneel by Rath’s feet, opposite Calypso. “I kneel only because I don’t believe you want your entire congregation to hear of their fate,” the girl whispered harshly, her features suddenly turning deathly serious.


Glancing towards Calypso, Rath nodded, “Go on, child.”


The girl swallowed and took a breath. “Khivar does not seek peace, he seeks the complete control of Antar and Zan’s reign, but he will not use it as Zan does. He will run the fear of tyranny and oppression through the hearts of all your people. He will make them suffer,” she said, looking at Calypso, her eyes dropping slightly. “And then she will suffer, because she does not know what Khivar is really capable of, or even what he is truly like.” She raised her eyes back to Rath. “Do you have any idea what it’s like knowing that evil exists and it can do anything and everything it wants?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes. “Because if you don’t - you soon shall.”


Rath swallowed. “Who is this person you care for?” he asked, a sinking feeling growing in the deepest part of his gut. The girl’s eyes bore into his.


“Your Lady Vilandra.”


“Vilandra!?” Calypso exclaimed, and then remembering that they were in a room full of over-reactive people, she lowered her voice. “Rath, this is madness. Vilandra would never –”


“She would never what?” the girl interrupted Calypso. “Five minutes ago everyone thought that Khivar would never bring harm, only peace,” she spat. “It seems to me that maybe you should re-evaluate what you think you know.”


Calypso could feel the odium welling up inside her, but as she looked up at Rath, she knew that now was not the time to speak. She kept her defiant look, and the girl turned back to Rath. “Vilandra comes to the estate by an underground route, the same route that Khivar will use to bring his mercenaries upon the palace. When she comes, I am her ladies maid and also her friend. While around their quarters I have learned this information and more,” she trailed, a guilty look appearing on her face.


Wiping her eyes and taking a pained breath, she continued. “It will be on a holiday on new moon’s crest, a day when people are away from their homes. If Khivar succeeds, they will not return to their homes by their own will,” she said, standing abruptly. Having said what she came to say, she pleaded one last time, “I beg you to stop this!” And with that, the girl ran off, disappearing into the crowd.


Calypso watched as the girl went, then looked to Rath, who himself was watching the girl, a far away look in his eyes.


“Rath –”


But Rath just looked ahead. Standing abruptly, he boomed out an order. “This meeting is over!” he called, then turned and stalked down the hall as an uproar came from the crowd.


Calypso quickly followed after him, down the hall, calling to him. “Rath!”


Rath stopped and turned. “I knew of Khivar’s real intentions, that much was obvious in my vision, but Vilandra... how can she do this to me, to Zan?!” Rath yelled. “She’s the reason why I had vision to begin with! She’s the reason why all of this is happening!” he ranted as he stalked back and forth - a force of volatile anger.


“No!” Calypso yelled over him, coming right up to him now when most others would cringe in fear. Placing her hands to either sides of his face, she settled his anger. “Khivar is the one responsible,” she said softly. “Vilandra is only a pawn in his game and you heard the girl, she said that Vilandra did not know anything about Khivar’s plans–”


“He must be lying to her then,” Rath growled, grasping her hands in his. “I must stop it,” he stated, “even if only for the good of Antar.”


“No,” Calypso urged. “You can’t stop any of what you saw in the vision. It has to happen or else who knows what will become of us? We must die and then live again, we know this is the only way we can save our home, our people,” she said, eyeing Rath intently.


Rath swallowed, hiding his guilt well. “Yes, yes we will.”




Michael suddenly came out of the dream and stumbled back and off the bed with a thump. As Maria stirred he quickly left the room before she awoke. Stalking into the kitchen, sweat dripping down his forehead, he poured himself the biggest glass of ice-cold water he could find. Taking a sip, he mumbled almost incoherently, “He lied to her...I lied to her...”


Michael could feel every emotion that coursed through Rath’s veins, and at the moment Rath had confirmed to Calypso that they would both live again, there was major guilt. The strongest guilt he’d ever felt, and he knew it was because he had lied to her. Which brought a realization upon Michael from somewhere in the dormant recesses of his mind, and he knew it to be true–


“She’s still alive.”


As Michael said the words, he stared straight forward, unknowingly, directly at Liz.


“Michael?” Liz questioned, a chill going straight down her spine at the way Michael stared completely through her. “Who – who’s alive exactly?”


Snapping out of it, Michael lifted his glass of water, “Nothing - no one,” and gulped down the rest, slamming the glass down on the table like it were a shot of hard liquor, a little of the color returning to his face.


Liz came forward until she was standing across the counter from him. “Did you mean Maria? Cause, if you did, you know just as well as I do, that’s she’s still with us. She’s just...” Liz trailed. “I don’t know...lost. Maybe even somewhere else entirely.”


Michael nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” he said slowly, then turned without another word and headed back to his room, leaving a very worried and wary Liz.




Jesse lay in bed, in the darkness, unable to truly fall asleep. Finally it was the growling of his stomach that gave him full merit to get out of bed.


In all truth he had been thinking about Isabel again. He really wanted to talk to her about how he was feeling, to really just reconnect, but the middle of the night was obviously not the best time.


Slowly sliding his feet out of the bed, Jesse gingerly crept towards the kitchen in the dark. This new arrangement of people and things in his house was still something he wasn’t fully adjusted to.


He was accustomed to making any noise that he pleased at most any hour, to not worry about waking others. But given the two options, he much preferred the house full, especially if that meant that Isabel was going to be in it.


He slowly crept into the kitchen, trying not to walk into anything in the pitch-blackness of the night. The only light was coming from the moon, through the blinds, onto the kitchen floor.




Sliding his hand along the wall, fumbling for the light switch, he suddenly found his hand touching something unfamiliar - another person’s hand.


A woman’s voice let out a small shriek as Jesse’s hand found the switch and the light flipped on.


“Isabel?” Jesse said, looking at the shocked Isabel before him, a sense of relief coming over him.


“What are you doing up?” he asked, looking her over in her sleek nightgown.


“Midnight snack,” Isabel confessed with a smile, happy to see that it was Jesse who had joined her in her late night adventure. “And you?” she asked, returning the question.


“Same thing,” he smiled, patting his stomach.


“Well, I was thinking about a turkey sandwich. What about you?” Isabel said, opening up the fridge and pulling out the turkey and bread.


“Sounds great, make it two,” Jesse smiled, taking a seat at the kitchen counter.


Isabel quickly made the sandwiches and poured two glasses of milk before joining Jesse at the counter.


“Your midnight feast is served, dear husband,” she said, setting the food down before him.


“I missed that,” Jesse said.


Isabel looked at him with questioning eyes.


“You know,” Jesse continued. “I miss you making me sandwiches, you being here in the middle of the night, you saying the words ‘my husband’ to me…” He trailed, picking at his bread.


Isabel smiled upon hearing his words.


“I missed it too Jesse,” Isabel said, trying hard to keep her emotions under control.


They ate their sandwiches, talking and laughing quietly as to not to disturb the others. After they had finished their sandwiches, they talked longer, not wanting to let go of this special moment.


Later, Isabel picked up their dishes when they were finally done, rinsing them off in the small kitchen sink, making more noise than she intended to.


Jesse took Isabel’s hand, leading her back upstairs to bed with him. Once at the bed, Jesse watched her slip into the covers in her satin gown, covering her up carefully with the blankets before climbing in next to her.


They lay there in the dark for a few moments before either one spoke.


“I love you Isabel, you know that.”


“I love you too,” Isabel whispered, the words sounding unreal to her because she was so accustomed to not having Jesse there in person. Usually she spoke those words to him from miles and miles away.


Isabel took a moment to reflect. “So where do we go from here?” she asked, holding his hand in hers.


“I don’t know, but I can tell you one thing. I am not letting you get away again. We are sticking together this time. No matter what Isabel, you are my wife, and you are the most important thing in the world to me. Not my job, not this apartment, nothing is more important than you.”


Isabel nodded. She wanted to fight with him, to tell him that she couldn’t put him in danger again, but truth be told she didn’t know if she had the strength to leave him again after finding her way back. She had been incomplete without him, a shell of her former self – Jesse completed her.


“What was it like?” Jesse finally asked.


“What was what like?” Isabel responded.


“Being out there on the run - hiding.”


Isabel took a deep breath before answering.


“Jesse, we are still out there, still on the run, and we are still hiding. But the worst part of my life was being without you.”


“I will protect you, Isabel.”


“There are some things that you can’t protect me from.” She turned on her side to face him. “Jesse, there are some things that I can’t even protect myself from. But I don’t want to be alone anymore, and I don’t want to be miserable anymore. Things happened while I was gone, things that made me question who I really was, things that I am sure made the others question who I really was. I don’t ever want to go through that pain again. Not



Jesse said nothing, he just took Isabel in his arms and held her tightly, he could feel her pain; he had felt the same pain and loneliness everyday that he had spent without her.


“I couldn’t talk to anyone else about my pain, my loneliness, my emptiness; I just completely shut myself out Jesse, even from Max. I finally feel like myself again when I am with you.”


“I know Isabel, I do. I was a robot, going to work early, staying late, no purpose to my life. Lately I had just been sleeping at the office because I was there so much. It was like I was in a coma and I didn’t wake up until I saw you on my doorstep.”


“Let’s make a pact,” Isabel said, sitting up in bed out of excitement. “No matter what, we stick together, no matter what. It’s me and you Jesse, we are a team.”


“Me and you, Isabel, together forever,” Jesse said, kissing her deeply. He pulled back and looked at her closely. “I made that pact when I married you,” he continued. “We made that pact to each other. ‘For better or worse, in sickness and heath.’”


“But you didn’t know the truth about me,” Isabel protested.


“I knew all that I needed to know, and that is that I love you. I want you in my life, no matter what the circumstances may be.”


Isabel smiled, nothing made her feel better then to know that Jesse felt the same way that she did about the situation.


“I am never letting go,” Jesse said pulling her into his strong arms.


“Never let go,” Isabel repeated, holding him as tight as she could.






Tuesday, January 7th, 2003


Michael was in Boston, Massachusetts with the mid-day sun shining brightly, but he refused to enjoy any of it. Instead, he sat hunched over a large oak desk at the huge Boston Library, focusing all his attention on the cryptic books he had found about the limbic system. The latest book rested in his hands and the more he read the less sense the book made. He uttered the words softly to himself simply because the theory he was reading could not possibly be true after everything else he read.


His mouth formed the words, but he had been studying books about the limbic system for so long that his brain was fried. At that point, he might as well have been reading Greek for all the good the information from the latest chapter was giving him. Amount of blood flow to the head and the speed of the neuron synapses simply made no sense to him. Feeling frustrated, he slammed the book shut and ignored the annoyed stares while he opened the next one.


All this reading was not helping him at all. He wondered if Max had been right about the books all along. Nothing he found told him anything about what was plaguing Maria, the one person who meant the most to him. He closed the book he had just opened, ran his fingers angrily through his hair and leaned back in his chair to close his eyes for a moment.


Various thoughts were running rampant in his mind as a plethora of emotions swirled around in his head. Emotions Maria could not feel - and he wished she would. He wished a lot of things and he recalled many of them. An alien space ship that would take him away from his abusive foster father, answers about his shadowy alien past life, to really belong somewhere, to be loved, to be able to keep all those he cared about safe from harm … but, at the same time he felt that none of those wishes did him any good. The space ship never came, the answers to his past life led to more confusion and dangers he wished he’d never known, he still didn’t feel like he belonged all the time, and love… well that was a whole other story.


At that point, he could not say with complete certainty that he had ever been loved. Of course, the others cared about him, but he would not call that love. Maria tried to love him and he could admit that she did - yet he could not protect her - not from himself. Now she was completely void of emotions and it was entirely all his fault.


He pursed his lips in frustration at that thought. No, her condition wasn’t truly his fault. He did not bring her into this mess, he decided. After all, it was Max that healed Liz, and Liz who told her the secret and which led to the secret emerging. Max broke the secret pact that he, Isabel and Max vowed to keep forever. Max put him and the others in danger … Max led him to be with Maria. It was all Max’s fault.


His thoughts quickly became senseless, but he no longer cared. He had grown up with a lousy foster father who liked to hit him. On countless occasions he could have left town and never looked back. He wondered why he stayed, why the others really needed him. Everything he could have done, and maybe should have done … the what-ifs haunted him relentlessly. Each second in passing felt like hours of remembrance.


He clenched his fists and forced himself to take a deep breath. A great deal of rotten luck had befallen him and he was unable to control nearly all of it. That thought above all else frustrated him the most. Everything seemed out of his control … he could not even heal Maria who was only void because he could not control himself


No, he decided demandingly. He emancipated himself … but even then, he had someone to nudge him into action. In that moment, he refused to believe he had no control over his life. Although he did not have the ultimate say in where they went, he admitted, he could influence the final vote either way. “I’m in control,” he thought to himself, “I -”


Other thoughts starting running rampant through his mind, the culmination of his life events had all been wearing heavily on his already-bruised ego. He grimaced unhappily, tears threatening to drip from the corners of his eyes.


His past haunted him in visions.


Feeling scared and alone once Max and Isabel were taken away that night in the desert after they hatched.


Physical pain from the bruises and black eyes compared little to the searing emotional pain from Hank’s brutal beatings, but having Hank seemed better than having nothing at all.


Fearing for his life after Max jeopardized their lives and safety by healing Liz Parker.


The same fear of being alone surging through him when he killed Agent Pierce.


The feeling of finally belonging to something, while his arms were wrapped around Maria.


Anguish washing over him in waves when Maria dumped him.


Joy and relief when she said she was leaving Roswell with him and the others.


More visions came, just as they had that night outside the strip club. He lost himself within the remnants of his past. A solitary tear dripped from his eye before a hand gently shook him by the shoulder.


His body shook with it and his eyes flew open, barely glancing at the owner of the hand before gathering his things. He lost track of time - again. The librarian sighed softly and spoke as if she had said the words a hundred times before.


“We are closing in five minutes.”


Michael bit back the usual sarcastic reply and merely nodded his head. He knew the library was closing the second she touched his shoulder, and even if his feeling had been wrong, he was more than ready to leave the musty old book-filled building. The sun was no longer shining through the windows, he noticed while he headed toward the checkout desk.


He nearly rammed into the old oak booth, but managed to keep a firm hold on most of his books except the last one, which toppled over and nearly landed on the keyboard. Luckily, the librarian caught the book just in time. Barely glancing at the young man sorting returned books; Michael slapped his card against the cold polished wood, and noted that the name on the guy’s employee tag read ‘Jeremy.’


“Interesting,” Jeremy told him, scanning the bar codes. “Not many people check out these kinds of books, well, since I’ve started working here.”


“Thanks for the information,” Michael replied smartly, then headed out the doors and headed back home, home to Maria - home to… something.




Kyle was sitting on the plush couch watching football as usual when he saw Serena come walking into the room out of the corner of his eye. He tried to act like he didn’t see her, but it was obvious to both of them that he did.


“What are you watching?” she asked sitting next to him on the sofa.


“The game,” he answered, trying not to look at her.


Serena smirked. “Why is it that guys always say ‘the game’ as if there is only one universal game that is watched?”


Kyle let out a laugh at Serena’s comment and Serena used the opportunity to grab the remote from his normally tight grasp.


“Evil woman!” Kyle laughed as Serena began flipping the channels with an innocent expression on her face. “You know, if Buddha was here, he would disapprove of your actions!”


“Who, me?” she whispered teasingly, twirling her hair around her fingers.


Kyle’s eyes were fixated on her seeing the playful look in her eyes. He could deny her nothing.


“So,” Kyle began clearing his throat. “What are we watching? Better be at least as good as the Buckeyes game last week.”


“Judge Judy,” Serena laughed, stopping on the correct channel just in time to see the Judge go off on another rant to yet another guilty defendant, this one accused of stealing the neighbor’s dog.


“You have got to be kidding!” Kyle laughed. “You actually watch this crap?”


“As opposed to what?” Serena fired back. “A bunch of grown men patting each other on the butts?”


“Well since you put it that way… but come on, Judge Judy, doesn’t she seem a little, well harsh to you? I swear I have had nightmares about that chick!”


“She has a way of getting people to tell the truth. I like that she can trick them, fool them, and scare them, whatever.” She shrugged. “Somehow she just manages to get the truth out of them. And I don’t like secrets.

Sometimes I think that maybe I could learn from her,” Serena said with a chuckle.


“You know, you don’t always have to trick or scare people into getting the truth,” Kyle said, turning to look at her.


“Oh yeah? And how about you? Do I have to trick or scare you into telling the truth mister Valenti?” Serena quipped.


“No,” Kyle answered sincerely.


“Well, in that case how about a game of good old truth-or-dare?”


“Isn’t that a girl’s game?”


Serena raised her eyebrows and gave him a wicked smile. “What’s wrong? You scared, of little girls?”


“Okay, okay. I’m game…you can even go first.” Kyle said, flipping off the TV and rubbing his hands together eagerly.


“Okay, Kyle. Truth or dare?”


“Truth,” Kyle answered without hesitation. He wanted to show Serena that she could trust him.


“Okay, Kyle what is your favorite color?”


“Easy,” Kyle answered “Blue.”


“See that wasn’t so bad - your turn now,” Serena said.


“Okay Serena, truth or dare?”


‘Truth, please,” Serena smiled.


“Okay Serena, Who do you trust most in the world?”


“That’s easy Kyle. You.”


Kyle looked at her deeply, wanting to show her that she really could trust him, that he would never do anything to hurt her, ever.


“Okay Kyle truth or dare?” Serena said after a long pause, seemingly a little uneasy and trying to change the topic.


“Truth,” Kyle answered.


“Okay, are you a virgin?”


Kyle’s face turned bright red as he thought about the question. Did he want to tell Serena the truth? He was embarrassed to say the least.


“I umm, changed my mind. Dare please,” Kyle stuttered.


Serena laughed. “Well normally that isn’t allowed but being that you are a new player I think that we can make a one-time exception.”


“So what’s my dare then?” Kyle asked, willing to do anything in lieu of talking to Serena about his sexual experience, or lack thereof.


“Okay Kyle, for your dare, I use the good old handy loophole and dare you to answer the previous question.”


“Man, you are tricky.” Kyle laughed. “So you like to cheat, huh?” Kyle laughed, tickling Serena’s stomach as she fell back further onto the couch.


“No,” Serena gulped between fits of laughter.


Before either of them knew it, Kyle was on top of Serena and the tickling had stopped. “I would never cheat you,” Serena said seriously.


“I know,” Kyle said, before the magnetism took over, both leaning in slowly and kissing softly.


From the kitchen Isabel watched Kyle and Serena and smiled with a slight shake of her head. “Would you look at that,” She said, elbowing Liz who sat at the bar next to her.


Liz maneuvered so she could see past Maria and then smiled as well. “Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she replied, then sighed as she continued. “But I’ve been a little too preoccupied to really give it any thought. You know, I think my brain is fried.”


Isabel rolled her eyes. “Your brain isn’t fried and you really don’t need to give it any more thought. Kyle deserves a little fun and affection I think, considering that the rest of us already have our own little significant others,” she said with a secret smile. She still loved the fact that she was able to be with Jesse again, problems would come, she was sure of that, but they were still together and stronger than ever.


Liz nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”


“Of course I’m right.”


Maria looked confused as she looked from Isabel to Liz. “Significant others? Like...mates or something? The other person you’re with, right?”


Liz laughed under her breath. “Yeah, you know what; you could most certainly call them that. They are our mates...our...” She thought for a moment, looking for the perfect word to describe the males in their group.


“Slaves?” Isabel suggested. “No, wait, our lapdogs.”


Isabel and Liz both doubled over with laughter.


Maria nodded, giving them both an odd look. “Then Michael’s mine right?” she asked. “My... lapdog?”


Isabel laughed again and then let out a long sigh. “Well, yeah, as much as Michael could be anyone’s–”


“Don’t go there,” Liz interrupted.


“Good idea.” Isabel nodded. “But, yes, he’s always been yours,” she said with a shrug and added, “In fact, you’re the only one I’ve known that could put up with him for any length of time.”


Liz nodded in agreement. “Yeah, the rest of us really don’t get him the way that you do - or did, or...” she trailed off instead of trying to finish, sipping her drink. She still didn’t exactly know how to deal with Maria’s condition. For now, she thought it best to simply tiptoe around certain subjects. It was still Maria; she was just… different.


“So...” Maria started. “What does that mean exactly? If I’m the one that gets him, what does that entail?”


Isabel and Liz looked to each other at the same time for help in answering the question and realized that they both hadn’t the slightest clue. So they stalled.




Maria interrupted. “I already know that we’re together... I don’t really know what that includes, like I said, but I know that he pays more attention to me than anyone else here and that must mean something, right?” she asked, curiously, looking for some sort of meaning or response.


“Ummm...” they stalled again.


“And he kisses me; every now and again. He doesn’t kiss either of you or Max, or Kyle, or Serena.”


Isabel laughed briefly, and quieted. “Yeah, he most certainly does not kiss Max or Kyle. That would...well, let’s just say that would really be something, very - ” she caught sight of Kyle across the room talking to Serena, “Very wrong.”


Maria nodded. “So, why does he kiss me? You guys should know. I see Max kiss you, Liz and Jesse kiss you, Isabel. Why?” She asked, and looked over both of their blank expressions. “There must be a reason.”


Liz suddenly got the feeling like she should be explaining this to a 12 year-old who had just heard the word ‘sex.’


“Well, it...well, I guess -”


“It feels good.” Isabel helped.


“Right.” Liz affirmed. “And it’s how you show affection.”


“Right.” Isabel nodded. “I kiss Jesse, because I love him and instead of telling him, I show him.” She explained in a round about sort of way. “Kissing... sex ...it all kind of falls into the same category.”


Liz gave Isabel an incredulous look and looked to Maria. “Well, maybe not the exact same category.”


“So...sex serves the same purpose as kissing?” Maria inquired and both Liz and Isabel fidgeted nervously.


“Um...” Liz started, “not exactly,” giving Isabel a helpless look.


Isabel took things into her own hands. Gulping down her glass of water, she folded her hands together briskly and looked Maria directly in the eyes. “Okay, Maria, I want you to listen to me carefully and I’m going to explain it to you in these very blunt terms, because you yourself used to be something of an authority on the ways of the bedroom.” She took a deep breath and ignored Liz’s wary glance. “Sex is an act of love between two people, only two though; don’t let anyone tell you differently.”


Liz grimaced, and started to interrupt when Kyle spoke up from the living room. “Hey, did I just hear something about sex?”


Isabel rolled her eyes. “When don’t you, Kyle?” She replied and ignored Kyle’s reply of “Good point,” and continued. “Anyway, it’s also like kissing - a way of showing affection and it feels good and all of that, but let’s get down to what I really want to know here...” She trailed, glancing towards Liz then back towards Maria, tapping her fingers on the counter. “Michael...he...he hasn’t been like, been pressuring you for sex or something, has he? Because if he has, Liz and I will most certainly kick his ass to a new zip code.”


Maria blinked and shook her head quickly. “No, he hasn’t done anything like that... no,” she said, shaking her head again. “He hasn’t, I was just curious,” she replied.


Isabel nodded and eased back onto her chair. “Good.”


“I’ve just been wondering... we get close, but it always seems like there’s something missing, something that I can’t quite grasp. Like we sleep together, in the same bed, at night and he holds me, but it’s like... there’s supposed to be something else...” Maria trailed, looking for an answer. “It’s empty,” she concluded, not sure what she was saying.


“Have you talked to Michael about this?” Liz asked.


Maria shook her head. “Not yet,” she replied. “I try not to talk about things I’m not certain of, because when I don’t understand something it seems to upset him. More lately, since he’s been reading those books.”


Isabel and Liz nodded and Liz replied. “He just doesn’t like seeing you this way.”


“Oh, I know and that’s why I’m asking all these questions,” Maria replied. “I want to do something that I would have normally done - to maybe help him. Then maybe I can say I remembered it, so he’ll be more...” She searched for the word.


“Agreeable?” Isabel tried. “We could tell you some things, but making Michael agreeable is quite a task.”


Liz nodded, but then shrugged. “Yeah, it is, but if anyone could ever do it, it would be you, so...” Liz straightened. “Let’s see. You could call him ‘spaceboy.’ You used to say that all the time. It was a playful thing between you two I think,” she suggested. “Or if you really wanted to -” Liz stopped, glancing up towards Isabel, then back to Maria. “Maybe I should whisper this one. I kind of pried this detail out of you awhile back and

believe me Isabel, you don’t want to hear it, Michael being your brother, kind-of.”


Liz came around the bar and whispered a something into Maria’s ear and then moved back to her seat, while Maria squinted her eyes with uncertainty.


“And he’ll like that?”


Liz nodded. “Any guy would.”


At that, Isabel turned an incredulous look at Liz and turned away in disgust, making a face that Liz and even Maria laughed at. “Oh – gross!” she squeaked, and Maria and Liz both laughed as Kyle and Serena came up to join them.


“Hey, what’s all the hubbub?” Serena asked, giving a particularly interested look at Isabel’s contorted features.


“You don’t want to know,” Liz managed to say.


“Are we talking about Michael and sex, as in, both in the same sentence?” Kyle offered, looking a little uneasy. “Now there’s a thought.”


As Kyle and Serena joined in on the laughter, Michael let himself into the apartment. Exhausted from a nine-hour shift, he stopped just short of letting the door slam when he heard all the laughing. He turned and saw all of them laughing – he saw Maria laughing.


Isabel shuddered again with disgust, motioning like she were going to be sick. “Michael… oh, eww! Gross!”


Making graphic gestures with his hands Kyle added, “That’s definitely not human.”




The whole scene put a weight on Michael’s heart the likes of which he could never imagine. His pointless pursuits were starting to portray a bitter conclusion - a conclusion that meant that Maria would never be herself again. That he would fail in his attempts to save her - fail at the first thing he’d ever really wanted to figure out and fix. It was a bitter, square pill to swallow, especially when looking at her now; she almost seemed her normal, vibrant self. Except that she wasn’t.


Michael felt the welling begin just as Isabel spotted him. “Michael, um hey, we were just talking about you,” she choked out between small fits of laughter.


Swallowing hard, Michael didn’t even hear her words. All he could hear was his heart beating in his throat. Turning, he swiftly moved through the living room and into his room, slamming the door behind him while the others looked on in silence. Everyone knew he must be going through his own private hell, well, everyone except one person.


“Is that upset? Perfect, now I can go cheer him up with the advice,” Maria said, jumping down from her stool and before anyone could stop her, entering her room.


Isabel and Liz exchanged worried glances, both hoping that whatever happened in that room...happened for the best. Perhaps to even snap Michael out of whatever spell he’d slipped under.


Maria eased into the room, closing the door behind her softly; eyeing Michael’s collapsed form on the bed. His hand was absently rubbing at his temple as he stared up towards the ceiling. He seemed not to have noticed she had entered the room.




He closed his eyes. “What?”


Taking the few short steps towards the bed, she kneeled down on it, next to him. “How...” She swallowed. “Was work?”


Glancing over at her, he sat back up at the end of the bed and shrugged. “It was work,” he replied, swallowing. “Listen, I’m going out for–”


“I was talking to Isabel and Liz about a few things that I didn’t understand and I think that I understand them better now,” she said, standing up and coming around to the front of the bed to position herself directly in front of him.


Michael glanced up at her body, just an inch away, her silky skin right in front of his face. Taking a deep breath, he continued in a defeated tone. “What kind of things?” Leaning his head forward so that his forehead rested against her abdomen, his elbows rested on his knees.


Bringing her fingers into his newly cut and styled hair, and absently massaging his scalp, she replied, “Sex things.”


Michael caught his breath and brought his head up. “Oh, God, what did they tell you? What did you ask?” he said, feeling himself slip into a familiar, paranoid state of mind. A state he realized he hadn’t been in since he’d first seen or heard of Calypso. In fact, he hadn’t been worried about much of anything until then.


“Just a few things...” Maria trailed, as she put a knee in between his on the bed, pushing him back onto the bed under her. Once she was settled there, she whispered, “Spaceboy.”


The word sounded so rehearsed that Michael nearly closed his eyes in pain. “I can’t believe this,” he said, gently setting her from directly over him to his side. “Maria, whatever they told you - just forget about it.”


“Why?” she interrupted. “They said that it feels good,” she added as she leaned in and kissed him in such a way that Michael nearly responded. Could it be? Was that the old Maria resurfacing?


No. He leaned back from the kiss. “And... it does, but we can’t,” he stated with a firm nod. “Not - not while you’re like this.”


Maria sighed and moved away a little bit. “Have you found anything in any of those books?” she asked expectantly.


Michael looked down slightly, and shook his head. “No.”


“Well, then how do you know when I’ll ever not be like this?” she asked, and Michael snapped his eyes back up to hers, seeing how open and accepting they were, as they had once been, only just a little brighter. Maybe she was right.


“I don’t know,” he replied. “I don’t know if you’ll ever–” He swallowed. “I don’t know,” he said simply, the pain in his eyes making Maria falter slightly and became frustrated.


Frustrated, because she could almost pinpoint the feeling - the feeling that was reflected in his eyes, but it was just out of reach, just out of her understanding. She was so fixated on trying to find this emotion that she didn’t even notice that she was feeling frustrated. It was something new and consuming, and without thinking about meaning or feeling or anything else she leaned in again and started kissing him.


And this kiss was different from the others, where she’d been so inexperienced and unrehearsed. This kiss felt real to Michael. All too real.


So real, that he didn’t stop her. It was too much for him to stop it - too much feeling that he’d been denied for so long. It almost felt like he was the one who wasn’t feeling anything.


So without much thought he decided that he wouldn’t stop whatever was about to happen, and he knew that he would call himself a bastard later for it.


And just as he’d thought, he did. Later that night, when he crept out of the room and into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of juice, the night’s events weighed on him.


As he stood there he could almost feel that part of him that was human was leaving - becoming corrupted by the insidious alien side. The same side that made him so reckless with emotion that he’d just slept with Maria in the condition that she was in. He wouldn’t have done that if he’d really been himself, but he wasn’t himself. He felt like someone else entirely.


“So did Maria call you ‘spaceboy’?” Isabel asked from behind with a small smirk, leaning against the wall. “Did she talk to you about a few things? Liz and I really didn’t know what to say to her –”


“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said anything, did you ever think about that?” Michael barked, his voice so deeply seated with frustration and hurt that Isabel barely recognized it.


“I take it that she did talk to you about it then,” Isabel stated.


Michael turned and smirked slightly. “Talk. I don’t believe that there was a whole lot of talking - Vilandra,” he said.


Isabel’s eyes narrowed. “What did you–”


“You heard me,” he growled, pushing by her, but not quickly enough for Isabel to miss his eyes flash an almost amber color.


Turning, she could only watch as he stalked back to his room, the door slamming shut.


Isabel stood there, thinking, before she breathed out a single word. “Rath.”


Shaking her head from the ridiculous thought, she went back to her room, but couldn’t remove the thought of Rath from her chilly spine. It couldn’t be.




Liz sat silently at her desk, her lips pursed pensively while she concentrated on the slide under her microscope lens. Ever since the first test, Liz continued to take new samples of her skin cells and of the others to make note of any changes. So far, there was no major change since the first test and she kept reminding herself that much time passed for her cells to change to what they looked like now.


She decided that her change must have begun ever since Max healed her that fateful day in the Crashdown Café. She rationalized that her cells would eventually be just like Max’s, Michael’s, and Isabel’s in terms of biological make-up. A possibility existed that she could be the fourth - or at least a decent replacement for the fourth alien. She wanted to talk to Max about such a possibility and she wondered what his reaction would be.


Sighing tiredly, Liz leaned away from her microscope and glanced around the bedroom before leaning back in the cushioned office chair. She closed her eyes for a moment, glad for the relief after the strain of staring at the samples for so long. Slowly, her breathing relaxed and she was nearly asleep when Max entered the room.


She sensed him nearing, but remained relaxed in her chair nonetheless. Moments later she felt Max’s firm hands on her shoulders, rubbing away the tension that still remained deep inside her muscles. She moaned softly, happy to have his attention, her ears perking up when he suddenly started speaking.


“Using the microscope?”


Liz nodded.


“What for?”


Liz opened her eyes and decided that she had better tell him about the thoughts that plagued her mind lately. He deserved to know. They did not need any more secrets between them anyway.


“I was looking at my skin sample. Max, it’s not human - I’m not fully human anymore.”


“You’ve been changing since before graduation,” he told her, “and that must be scary. Does that bother you?”


“No,” she admitted softly, “but maybe I - I could be a formidable fourth. Don’t you think?”


He pulled his hands away from her, backing away and sitting on the bed. Liz turned to face him. She waited to see his reaction, only now she wasn’t certain what he would say next. Judging from the pensive look on his face, his mind was racing with thoughts on more than what she just told him. He looked at her as she waited anxiously for his response.


“Can we talk about this some other time?”


Her mouth fell open from the surprise. Max was always interested in whatever she had to say, except at this moment. She did not understand why he wanted to avoid the subject, especially since she was involved in the topic of conversation.


“It’s important,” she reminded him softly, “we have to be prepared -”


“I just don’t want to talk about it right now,” he interrupted her. “Can’t we just have a little time to ourselves, without bringing up the whole alien thing?”


Liz gave in because she knew that worried look on Max’s face. She saw the same look that night Max visited her when he was worried about Michael, and she understood completely. She already confronted Michael about his more distant behavior - not that it helped anything. Michael seemed to live in his own world these days.


“Look,” Max spoke again, “I’d like to think that the whole idea of needing a fourth and destiny died with Tess. Besides, in our group nothing is as it seems. You know?”


“You might remember that next time you see Serena,” Liz pointed out with as little bitterness as she could manage. “She’s one of you, Max. Her mom came to earth to find the pods and protect them from harm. Serena’s dad is human so that makes her just like you biologically and she is on our side. Oh, and while you’re at it you might notice how distant Michael is lately. He’s spending less and less time here and not just with us - with Maria too.”


“Well, he has a job and spends a lot of time in the library reading books that he think will help Maria,” Max pointed out.


“Do you really think he spends that much time in a library?” Liz challenged him, “He came home really late the other night and there was guilty look on his face, Max. I confronted him about it and he completely avoided me, he doesn’t even seem like Michael anymore. Nothing is as it seems in our group, like you said, and I agree with you it’s just…” she trailed off, unsure how to finish what she was saying. Instead, she sat next to Max and leaned gently against him while she rubbed his back with the hand closest to his body in soothing circles. He pulled away slightly so he could look into her doe-brown eyes with that reassuring nod as if to say that everything would be okay.


“I’m sorry, I’d love nothing more than to just spend the rest of my life with you here in this cozy apartment, Max, but…” Liz pointed up to the sky, shrugging.


“I’ll talk to Michael.”




Wednesday, January 8th, 2003


It had been a quiet night at the library and slowly, each of the overhead lights began to switch off, signaling that it was really time to leave. Funny that the librarian didn't even come to tap on his shoulder tonight; she’d probably given up. Michael scoffed to himself. “I would have given up on me by now.”


Michael sighed and rubbed his eyes, closing the books that lay sprawled out in front of him. He had spent the last three days in the library, looking up the limbic system in books, online, in magazines and in that silly microfiche machine that he only just today had gotten the hang of.


He got up and stretched, gathering the new books he needed and put the encyclopedias on the re-shelve cart. He waited in line behind a few bums who had spent the day with him in the library at various tables. Apparently even bums could get library cards. He couldn't imagine that it was a widely known fact.


He handed the books to the checkout guy - Jeremy, was it? Yeah, it was Jeremy. Michael’s eyes drifted over the nametag that was displayed on his shirt as he had done a day or so ago, who really knew how long it had been? Something that Michael had realized over the last couple of days was that the library was like a dead zone; time slipped by without any warning or indication. The analogy reminded Michael of his life as Jeremy quickly scanned his books and ran them through the deactivator before tearing off a due date slip.


“Here ya go, man, good luck,” Jeremy said, sliding the books towards him. Michael grabbed the books into his arms and awkwardly replied, “Yeah, thanks.”


He began heading out the door when Jeremy called out, “You know, there’s been a girl here a few times.” Michael stopped, only mildly annoyed, but didn’t turn. Jeremy kept talking. “She’s been in here when you haven’t, which as you know, wouldn't be often, but you’re researching the same exact thing. She’s even checked out some books after you’ve returned them. Hmm, come to think of it, she’s checked out all the books that you’ve returned.”


Michael finally turned. “What does she look like?” His voice was strained.


“Dark hair, it’s really long. And she has these really gorgeous eyes.

Almost -” Jeremy gave an incredulous laugh. “Purple, if you can believe it. What some people will do with contacts.”


Michael blinked. He knew that. How did he know that?


“She’s been singing at this club on Comm Avenue the past few Wednesdays,” Jeremy continued. “It’s called Paradise. She's really–”


“Where is Comm Avenue?”


Jeremy began shutting down the rest of the lights and tugged a coat from underneath the counter. “I’ve got some time, suppose the x-box can wait for awhile, I’ll take you.”




“It’s just up here,” Jeremy said, his pace getting faster. He looked behind his shoulder at the guy who was with him. He hadn’t said much on the subway ride to the club and he didn’t want to push the guy. He looked almost - lethal. You know the type.


Rocky meets Vin Diesel.


That type.


They came up on the club. Soft, wailing music was spilling out into the street as crowds of people came and went, but mostly came. Michael stopped by the door, watching the crowds of horny teenagers and perverted forty-year-olds jostle and sway together in the smoky, murky atmosphere of cigarettes. 'Welcome to the depths of humanity.' Michael thought with a grimace.


A sign caught his eye away from the degrading scene. It was white with black and red lettering. Calypso Morgania. So that was her name. God, it sounded so familiar. Too familiar… almost - intimately familiar.


He entered the club with Jeremy not far in front of him. A strange sense of foreboding was making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The back of the club was dark with black lighting igniting the bar where bartenders in white shirts moved quickly, serving the thirsty patrons their devilish drinks. Suddenly a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and as he turned to pinpoint it, Michael felt his entire body contract with recognition.




She was on stage, talking with her band members, drinking from a water bottle. Michael let his eyes drift down. She was wearing all leather, shiny and tight, accentuating a body that looked all too much like Maria’s.


In fact, she looked exactly like Maria and at the same time, completely different. She was the woman from Maria's dreams - the one and the same.


Her eyes were the same, and even from the back of the club, Michael could tell that they were violet, just like they had been in Maria’s dreams. She had the same pouty lips as Maria. Her hair was long and dark; parts were pulled back in braids, giving center stage to her face.


She finished speaking to her band and then stepped forward into the light. The crowd began cheering. Jeremy even let out a yell next to him.


“She’s really good,” he yelled over the roar of the crowd, clapping and whistling. He saw the look on Michael’s face and took it for hesitation. “Just stay and see a few numbers. It’ll be worth it, man.”


Michael couldn’t find his voice. He just nodded, and began pushing his way forward through the crowd.




Calypso began her song, lowering her eyes and Michael was mesmerized. The very core of his being could feel every word she sang as if she were singing to his soul. He stopped pushing his way forward and just watched as she sang. When the song hit the chorus, she began swaying and took the microphone off the stand, moving back slightly. Then, with her violet eyes under thick black eye lashes, she looked up.


And right at him.


She sang the rest of her song that way, swaying and staring at him and all Michael could do was stare back. It was all that he could even conceive of doing. And then he saw them.




“I'm dying.” Rath choked, gazing up at Calypso.


Calypso pressed her hand to the bleeding wound that would eventually drain her beloved to his death as she leaned down closer to him, trying to ignore the doomed war that raged around them. She whispered softly against his lips, words of hope. “We will live again–”




“From your vision I shall come back too, right? I come back too.” She said those last words as a statement, but there was question in her eyes.


Abruptly he let her go, so quickly that she nearly toppled backward. Rath turned and stalked heavily to the window. Staring out at the light purple sky of near dusk, he closed his eyes and said quietly, “Yes, you'll come back.” He opened them again and turned back to her. “I'll make certain of it.”




Michael blinked as the song wound down. Calypso put the mike back on its stand, all the while looking at him, her gaze burning through him. A small smile of satisfaction wound its way through her lips and Michael opened his mouth, as if to say something. Suddenly she turned and moved towards the back of the stage, apparently talking to her band again. Michael began to make his way up to the front. He had to talk to her. He had to know.


“Hey, watch it,” someone yelled as he shoved his way forward. He barely heard them. He had to get to her before she disappeared.


A man appeared on stage and tapped the mike.


“Unfortunately, Calypso is not feeling very well and has bowed out early. Please stick around for Vamypres.”


Michael strained his neck, trying to see Calypso but the stage was empty.


She was gone.




“Good job, Callie,” Joseph slapped her shoulder as he walked past her to the band dressing room.


“Thanks,” she beamed, taking her hair down. As soon as he disappeared into the dressing room, she immediately took a u-turn back to the stage. Peering through the side of the curtain, she spotted Rath still looking for her. She had tried to swallow the disappointment that he didn’t look the same as he had on Antar. His hair was shaggier and longer, and his eyes were a very dull brown. Nothing of the amber passionate eyes he once had. Not to mention the physique. The guy was, to say the least, out of shape, but then again Rath had been war hardened. Calypso smirked as she imagined the type of wars Mr. Teenage Heart Throb out there probably had to endure. Hmmm...


Regular, deep dish, or extra crispy thin crust?


He really wasn’t the same. At heart maybe, but definitely not in looks. She would fix that, though. Luckily for her, she had a human that looked exactly like her, so, no work there.


Being along the same evolutionary chain as Earthlings was very convenient sometimes.


“M’leaté. L’eilté sumáre àr mais’re,” Calypso whispered as Michael turned away from the stage, walking towards the entrance. She closed the curtain, and leaned against the concrete wall.


My love. I told you we would live again.




Wednesday, January 8th, 2003 - Liz Diary Entry Continued


Oh, Michael... I should have known.


Shouldn't I have? Perhaps not, anyone else would have guessed, but I can feel it as I felt the shift in the air around the apartment when Michael came home tonight. The routine was the same. He noticed I was writing in my journal, so he simply avoided me and headed off to bed. Even if I hadn’t been writing, he would have done the same. Still, tonight was different.


I can feel it. Not see it or witness it because even with my wide eyes open, I couldn’t have seen anything of this magnitude coming. After all, you can’t see the air, but you feel it whirling around your body. Just like emotion can hum in the back of your mind as you come to the realization of what causes it, I've come to a realization. A realization that pointed right at why Michael's been acting the way he has and why he's always gone. I know the truth.


There’s someone else.


Someone that means something to him. Someone besides Maria.


I should have known. All the clues were right there in front of me, and I didn’t see one of them. Maybe I didn't want to see them. The worst part is that I have no idea what this means for him or Maria or anyone else.


The only thing I seem to know for certain is that nothing is certain.


Nothing is what it seems.






© 2002-2003 Roswell: The Final Chapter. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental. Roswell: The Final Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.



© 2004-2005 Roswell: The Final Chapter.  Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.  Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental.  Roswell: The Final Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.

© 2006-2007 Roswell: The Final Chapter.  Unauthorized reproduction prohibited.  Any similarities to events, real or imaginary, are strictly coincidental.  Roswell: The Final Chapter is in no way affiliated with UPN, the WB, Regency Television, 20th Century Fox, or Jason Katims Productions.