Title:  ".To Put Right What Once Went Wrong"
Author:  Kate
Email: Bluevanila
Rating:  PG-13
Summary:  The story Tess has heard all of her life.
Disclaimer:  I own nothing but my own words.  9/11/00
Distribution:  Any, but please ask
-----------


9/11/00
".To Right What Once Went Wrong"

I've seen him without his shirt on.  And his body could probably make any
girl swoon.  I've felt his hands on my face.  And they're big and strong,
but soft and gentle.  I've gazed into his eyes.  And they are so deep that
most girls would get lost in them.  What girl wouldn't want this guy?  Who
wouldn't fall for him, with his manliness and his sensitive side?  And
especially if they were *meant* to be together?

Well, I never could do anything right.

---------

It's important to never get attached.  Never let anyone get too close.  If
you *feel* for a person you are just going to be vulnerable to them.  We
can't have that.  No one can know, do you understand that?

I nodded.  It was the same thing all over again.  I'd gotten too close.  Let
too many questions be asked.  Made a friend.  Gotten invited to a party. 
All of which was against the rules.  So we were moving again.

So goodbye Mrs. Miller.  She gave me a copy of The Witch of Blackbird Pond. 
We'd read it that year in reading class.  Sometimes I knew just how Kat
felt.

So goodbye Deana.  I can't go to your party.  She gave me a party favor
anyway.

And then we were on the road again.  Yes, I'll be more careful.  You're
right, I don't need anyone but you.  No, I feel no emotions at leaving, that
would be a weakness, and I am strong.

But he knew I was lying.  Because I stared out the window as the scenery
went by, never saying a word.  Because I looked at my book too long and held
my party favor too tightly.  He knew.  He knew I was lonely.  Because I
stared at the laughing kids at the rest stop.  Because I looked down at my
hands in my lap.  He knew.

That's when the story started.  The story about them.  The people who would
take away my loneliness.  And I could be myself with them.  Because they
were like me.  He told me the story for the first time that night on the
road.
------

Two years later it was ritual.  He told me the story when he thought I was
getting restless or lonely.  Even his lectures turned into the story.  Like
when he told me I must never let a boy kiss or touch me, I must save myself
for the one.  The one who I was meant to be with.  I could be with no other.
  I must be pure for him.

Or when I brought home a bad grade in geometry he said I must sharpen my
mind, I must be smart if I am to stand beside the one and help him to lead
his people.  And when I failed to use my powers correctly, I must hone my
skills, I must be worthy of him, him with the greatest skill.  How will I be
of any use if I can't perform this simple task, I must not embarrass the
one.  When I put on a few pounds that winter, I must be the picture of
perfection for the one, for he is perfection, he must be able to proudly
take my hand.

I tried to make myself perfect for him, for the one.  I excelled in school. 
I excelled in my powers.  I paid careful attention to how I looked so I
would be beautiful enough for the one.  Everything was in anticipation of my
man, who was smart and strong and powerful and talented and caring and
giving and a leader and handsome beyond measure.

In my mind I saw him.  I spoke with him.  We talked and laughed and kissed
and everything was perfect.

Michelle shook her head and said nothing's perfect.  I said why not, we are
perfect best friends.  She said if we were perfect I wouldn't have a crazy
strict dad who wouldn't ever let me hang out.

She was right of course.  So maybe we weren't perfect, but I just knew that
things with me and the one would be.  She was right of course, because if
everything were perfect, Michelle would know my secret.  But I knew things
with me and him would be.

What did she know anyway?  She may have been my best friend, but she was
only human after all.  And humans were weak.  And I had to be strong.  So,
of course things weren't perfect with us, how could they be?  She was human.
  But when I met the others, the ones like me, now that would be perfect.

So instead of telling her that she was right I told her that she just didn't
understand.  It was different.  She said she didn't understand.  She didn't
understand why I lived in a fantasy world.  Why I didn't notice how Bill
looked at me, why I only thought of this one guy, who didn't even exist. 
She said that she and Bill were reality and that other girl and the "one"
were just a story, when was I going to realize that.  And I told her she was
wrong, they *were* real, *they* were what mattered.

And I told her she was right, things with us weren't perfect, because she
didn't understand me at all.

With that I turned and left.  When I got outside, he was there, waiting. 
What were you doing he asked me.  Nothing I shot back.  But he saw.  He saw
me with her.  He knew.  He knew she was with my friend.  That night we
packed.

-------

I didn't get to say goodbye.  My last words to her had been spoken in anger.
  Now, as we drove down the dark road, he watched me carefully and I fought
back hot tears as I silently cursed myself.

He was right.  Emotions were a weakness.  I'd let my emotions get the better
of me.  I'd cared for a human.  A human.  And now I was paying for it with
the ache in my chest, the lump in my throat.  I vowed not to make that
mistake again.

-------


I put down no roots.  I knew we might leave at any time.  I made no friends.
   But I wasn't lonely.  No, I didn't want to be friends with these people. 
These people, these humans, who would make me weak.  I had to be ready at
all times.  Ready to run.  Ready to hide.  I couldn't afford to make
friends.  But I wasn't lonely.  Not when I had my thoughts of them.  My
thoughts of him.  No, I wasn't lonely.

-------

And finally they were not just a dream.  Not just a fantasy.  Not just a
story.  He had found them.

For the sixth time in my life we packed.

Max.  Max Evans.  Max.  I turned his name over and over in my thoughts.  He
had never had a name in my mind.  He had only been "the one".  Max.  Max
Evans.  It was a beautiful name.  A beautiful name for the most perfect man
in the world.  My man.

-------

I knew as soon as I saw her.  She radiated it.  Power, grace and beauty, she
radiated them all.  There was no doubt in my mind who she was.  She was like
me, the first person I'd ever met that was like me.  I felt a rush of
emotions as I sat down with her and a big smile spread across my face.  I
had been alone for so many years, waiting.  Waiting to meet her.  Finally,
after all these years.

We clicked immediately. She could feel our connection too.  I knew she could
feel it.  She was drawn to me the same as I was to her.  I could tell by the
big smile across her face, by the way she was so eager to be friends with
me. I could feel the story coming to life, everything dropping into place. 
I had known it would be perfect, and it was.

But it wasn't.  Liz.  Liz Parker.  Liz.  Her name tossed around in my mind. 
She was with Max.  Max, my man, my perfect man.  My whole life.  All I'd
ever thought about was Max and how he'd love me.  But *she* was with Max. 
And Max didn't love me.  Max loved her.

And he wasn't happy.  Why hasn't Max fallen for you yet?  You are destined
to be with him, he is rightfully yours, let no obstacle stand in your way,
what have I taught you Tess?

I wanted to please him, and yes, more than anything I wanted to be with Max.
  I would have done anything.but Liz.  Her hair.  It was the same as
Michelle's.  Everytime I looked at her I saw my old abandoned best friend,
who I couldn't bear to hurt again.

I cursed Liz in my mind.  For having my man.  For ruining my story.  For
making me remember what I'd tried to forget these past two years, how to
feel.  For making me too weak, too human.  For making me unable to do
anything to get my man like he wanted me to.  Oh, I tried.  I smiled my best
smile and shot him flirtatious glances.  I could feel how he was drawn to me
and that he couldn't resist staring back even as Liz looked on.  But I
couldn't do what I needed to do, what I had been told to do.  I was to break
them up, make Max accept his destiny.  But I just couldn't do it.  And so I
cursed Liz in my mind.

-------

But as it turned out, I didn't have to do anything...Liz did it for me.
Things didn't go as planned and for a while I thought the story, my whole
life, had all been a lie.but somehow or another it was the four of us like
it should be.  Liz had let Max follow his destiny.  Even though it was
killing her.  I felt sad as I watched her go, watched her hair fly out
behind her.  And in my mind I thanked her.  Because of her the story would
come true.  My life hadn't been a lie.  Finally I was with them and things
could finally be perfect and the fantasy I'd lived for the past four years
of my life could finally be a reality.  I had a family now.  And my man, my
perfect man.

------

My perfect man who I had seen in my mind, and we had talked and laughed and
everything was perfect.  But the man in my mind was not the man in front of
me.

We talked.  But laughed?  No.  We never laughed.  When I had pictured Max I
had always thought he'd have a sense of humor that would keep me beaming,
something I never did in my old life of hiding and trying to be perfect.  If
I had smiled it would have just been a sign to Nasedo that it was time to
leave and there was never a reason to smile like that anyway.  And there was
no reason to here with Max either.

When I had first seen Isabel, that was the first real smile I'd smiled in
years.  It had been the happiest moment of my life, finding her.  And so I
had grinned at her.  I still smiled at her like that.  We would have so much
fun, laughing and talking.  And everyday I grinned at her just like that
first day.  I was still so happy to have found her.  Just being with her
made me smile.  Why couldn't Max, my perfect man,  make me smile that way?

And my perfect man, who was smart and strong and powerful and talented and
caring and giving and a leader and handsome beyond measure.  That was the
man in my mind.  The man in front of me was a leader, yes.yes he was a
leader.  He bossed me like I was a child.  Like I had no thoughts of my own.
  No say or opinion that mattered.  Like Nasedo always had.  All my life I'd
been told what to do, how to act.  It was no different now.  Max never
listened to me.  Everything had to be his way.  Forget that I had years of
living on my own, working on my powers, learning about us.  After all this
time together he still didn't fully trust me.  So yes, he was a leader all
right.  But he didn't rule by popular demand.at least not by my demand.  And
I was tired of being told what to do.  When did I get a say?

I got my say with Isabel.  She understood.  Max and Michael had done that to
her for years.  She knew what it was like.  She had watched Max and Michael
butt heads without any consideration for her.  And so she never did that to
me.  With Isabel, for the first time, I wasn't a little girl.  I didn't need
to be protected or told what to do.  She knew I was strong.  She knew I had
my own ideas.  With her, I could say anything.  She'd listen.  She respected
me.  Max didn't respect me.

He didn't respect me.  Sometimes I didn't even think he liked me.  But
sometimes I didn't even like him either.

But my story.  My perfect story.  How could this be?  All my life, I'd heard
of them and how it would be when I was finally reunited with them.  It was
supposed to be perfect with them.  It was not perfect.

Well, it was perfect with Isabel.  Isabel, who was smart and strong and
powerful and talented and caring and giving and a leader but also a listener
and beautiful beyond measure.  Isabel was perfect.

Why?  Why was the name Nasedo brought home for me Max?  Why couldn't it have
been Isabel?  If only it had been Isabel instead.  Isabel who listened. 
Isabel who made me laugh.  Isabel who loved me.  For Isabel I would have
been perfect.  I would be perfect for her.

And in my mind I started to see her.  And we talked and laughed and kissed
and everything was perfect.  But it was just a fantasy and the story was
reality.a reality I no longer wanted.

-------

We sat up in her room talking and laughing as usual.  Because Isabel made me
happy.  Max did not.  I knew I made her happy.  Did Michael make her happy,
I asked.

He is my destiny she said.  I asked her if she wished he wasn't.  She looked
scared.  I took her hand to show her it was ok and told her that I wished
Max wasn't my destiny.  That all my life I'd thought he was one thing, when
really he was another.  And what he was, was not what I wanted.   She nodded
and told me that Michael did not make her happy and that sometimes she was a
little scared of him and she was so glad I understood, because she could
always run to me when things were too intense with Michael and what would
she do without me, I was just about the only thing that made her smile these
days.

Again I cursed Nasedo for bringing me the news of Max when it should have
been Isabel.  It should have been her.  Not just for me.  For her.  I would
do anything for Isabel.  I would make her happy.  So hearing her say those
words, telling me that Michael was not the one for her either, and that I
made her happy, hearing her say it made all my hardness break down inside
and I felt the hot tears welling up in my eyes.

She saw and quickly pulled me in a tight hug.  She understood, I knew she
did.   Because she lovingly stroked my back.  Because I could feel her cheek
against my hair.  And I knew then that she was the one.  She really was that
perfect one for me.  Because my hands were in her hair and they belonged
there.  Because I felt at home in her arms.   And I knew that she felt the
same way.  Because she pulled back from me a little bit and let her smooth
cheek rest against mine ever so lightly.  Because I could hear her breathing
as our faces touched.  Because we stayed that way for the longest couple of
seconds.

She was the one, not Max.  The story was right, it was, it had just been
cast wrong.  So I began to rewrite, to recast the story.  The story of my
perfect one, Isabel.  I turned my head towards her and our lips met in a
kiss.  A soft kiss.  A gentle kiss.  A loving kiss.  A kiss that was
perfect.  A kiss that was everything I'd dreamed of and waited for my entire
life.

--END--
Slash Fics   Het Fics   Links   Home
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

1