Author: Liz
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: PG-13
Category: M/L
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Future fic. Liz is married to Kyle and works for the FBI. The aliens never came to Roswell, and there was never a shooting.
Distribution: Back parts can be found at <A
HREF="http://www.inficad.com/~jlaw/Liz/Liz.htm">Stories
by Liz</A>
(Jessi's Page). As for putting them anywhere else, I think I'm
gonna hold off for awhile.
Feedback: Pretty please :)
Subject: A1 (Part 14)
When she woke up, she couldn't see.
Panic rose in her throat readily, flooding her in emotions. Her head was throbbing relentlessly, but she barely felt it. What was wrong with her eyes?
When the light began to flood her vision, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her. Whatever that had been, it was terrifying.
'Migraine.'
Oh yeah. Damn, it had been a long time since she'd had one of those. She didn't have to wonder much why the problem had so suddenly resurfaced. Her stomach churned restlessly, and combined with her head and the way her entire body was aching, she wasn't very sure that she would be able to hold herself up for much longer.
"Liz?"
Just the sound of his voice, saying her name, was so very soothing. She turned around to face him, wondering if he would notice how much pain she was in. "You should go home and get some sleep. You look terrible."
She frowned. "Don't you ever think of yourself?"
He looked caught off guard by her question, and her demeanor
softened. 'Damn these headaches.'
Managing a small smile for him, she apologized. "Sorry. It's
just...I'm worried. Today--"
"I know."
She could tell that he didn't need the reminder. "I just don't want anything to happen to you." She would not cry. "Thank you, Max. For caring about me, even when you should be thinking of yourself. I promise, I'm fine."
He didn't seem to really believe her, but he at least accepted it. "Alright."
For the first time, the silence between them grew uncomfortable. She fidgeted with her fingernails, wondering what he was thinking about. She was trying not to imagine him on the cutting board.
And about Mr. Davies. How could he have lied to her like he
had? First about Max. Now about this. He had kept all of it from
her, knowing how she felt about this. This whole practice had
been going on, every day as she sat behind her corporate desk
feeling like she was on the verge of finding something 'big'. She
felt so betrayed, along with an overwhelming need for vengeance.
The door opened, and she didn't have to look to know who it was.
"Good morning Mr. Davies."
She didn't even care for 'keeping up appearances'. Who cared if the warmth her voice usually held for him was gone? Surely it was what he'd wanted when he'd kept all of this from her.
"Mrs. Valenti."
"Resorting to formalities, I see."
She still didn't look at him, but she could imagine that he would look slightly surprised, slightly annoyed. Just as he always did. Amazing how that never really struck her as irritatingly arrogant until now.
Still, he didn't respond. He just carried on with his business. "I see you've been looking through the files."
She gazed back at the computer screen.
She had left it open.
'Dammit.'
"I was cleaning the files out."
"And now?"
"Well actually, my next step was to clean my desk out." Completely sarcastic tone, but she was serious. Hopefully he understood that. She wasn't playing games anymore.
"I see."
It irritated her that was all he had to see. He wasn't going
along with her, and she didn't like it.
"I've come to get A1."
"Max."
"If that's what you prefer."
"Not that it matters, right?" Again, he didn't respond. She was getting really pissed. "You can't do this."
"Why exactly can't I? I'm sorry."
"Don't give me that bullshit! You have to know that this is wrong! All of it! How can you let this go on and live with yourself?"
"It's my job. It was yours."
She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry in front of him. But it seemed as if he had stripped her of all of her restraint, and the tears were already coming too quickly to stop.
She didn't even pay attention as he opened the cell, an opening appearing in the apparently seamless glass wall that had been the impossible barrier between them.
Max was sitting on his cot, eyes wide with fright as Mr.
Davies seized him up roughly. Twisting his arms behind his back,
he grasped his wrists together in his large, powerful hands.
"Just don't cause any problems, please. Make it a lot easier
on both of us, especially you." And before she even had a
chance to touch him, they were gone.
It wasn't that she hadn't tried to find them.
For awhile she had even run through the empty corridors, one after another, opening every door that she could get her hands on. Most of them were locked, but each unlocked one held in it a little hope for her. Hope that was quickly dashed as she saw their empty interiors.
She had never really noticed how very large the facility
was--and this was only one wing. It was huge. There were so many
rooms, so many twists and turns and dead ends. And she, of
course, was lost.
But finally, after 30 minutes of searching, her voice horse from
screaming, reserve empty of tears, she had given up. Everything.
That was when the sirens began to sound.
Loud, earsplitting bells that came from every direction, accompanied by blinking red lights. Covering her ears with her hands, she began to run again.
'Oh my God. What's happening?'
She ran mindlessly, weaving her ways through the hallways, until she came across someone. Another scientist, dressed in a white lab coat. "What's happening?"
She was surprised that he heard her screaming voice above the ringing. "It's an escape siren. One of the test subjects have escaped."