Dear Isabel
By: Eden
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, if they were neither Max nor Michael would never see the light of day
Summary: Michael's POV, reflective piece on his life.
Authors Note: Thanks to Miri and Courtney for telling me the idea didn't suck. I'd love to hear what people think of this, be warned though it is my first attempt at Roswell fic.
Spoilers: Only the Pilot, because there are references to that in here. The italicized parts are flashbacks/memories. Quotes from the Pilot were transcribed by me. The song used in this fic is "Isobel" by Dido.
Distribution: Please ask me first.
For a person - and I use the term loosely - who came from nowhere, and was claimed by no one, so many memories of my life are loving ones. Sure, there are an awful lot of bad memories, mostly from my late childhood and early adolescence, but the good seems to outweigh the bad. The majority of these good memories center on only a handful of people, but there is one in particular who stands out more than the rest. One whose face is permanently burned in my brain, her voice forever captured in my heart.
Even now that she's long gone, most likely never to be seen by me again, she haunts me. I see her face at night when I'm asleep, taunting me, goading me to remember her, and how much she meant to me. Begging me never to forget who she was to me, who she still is. Like I could forget her if I tried.
She was there for every day of my life that I can remember. A constant presence, and a constant comfort. As children we shared an unexplainable bond, the three of us. Something we didn't understand, and were too afraid to reveal. But she and I found solace in one another, an understanding that her brother didn't share. Or at least, one he handled in a different way. As we grew, and learned more and more about our origins and ourselves we began to develop the same opinions on the type of lives we should lead. Never reveal who we are, what we are. Never do anything that could place us in danger, no matter what the circumstances.
"We have to make a promise, here and now, to protect each other, and ourselves, always and forever." Nine-year-old Isabel lectured her brother and Michael.
"But how?"
"We stick to ourselves, minimize interaction with others. The less they know of us, the better, you got that?"
Michael nodded instantly in agreement, but Isabel could see Max was hesitating.
"Maxwell, can't you see that we're different? If anyone ever found out about us, in this town...I don't even want to think about what would happen."
"Max, he's right, please." Isabel begged with her brother. "We're all each other has, we're all each other needs." She held out her hand, as did Michael. "Please."
Max resisted for a moment, before sighing and reaching out his own hand to join with the other two. There was a flash of light as their promise was made, before the glow of their hands dimmed into nothingness.
These were rules she and I lived by, ones we never compromised. But we couldn't say the same for the Max. Instead of heeding our warnings and threats, he chose to reject them and fall in love with a human. His love for her, and his need to save her life, almost cost us ours. My reaction over that incident matched hers perfectly; our arguments against human interaction almost meeting word for word. We could see the outcome of this situation, something Max could not. Isabel and I could see that it would only end in pain, and hurt. Possibly even death.
But Max chose to break our rules, and to reveal our identities to a human. Liz Parker, the girl into whose hands he had now placed our lives.
I watched fearfully as Max pursued a 'normal' life, not understanding his need to do so. He didn't seem to feel the desire to find out who we are, where we're from. But I did. I most definitely did.
And Isabel did too, though in a different way. Like Max, she too interacted with the humans, but neither in a threatening way, nor one that broke our pact. She too saw that Liz was a danger to us, that intimate relationships with humans could not be had.
"I can't believe this Max. You know, I finally feel like I have a quasi-normal existence and you go and blow it all with one random act of lunacy." Isabel yelled at Max during lunch, the day after he saved Liz's life. She turned to Michael. "How did you let my misguided brother do this?"
"Hey don't turn this around on me. I'm not the one who thinks he's a super hero."
"Look, I said I was sorry." Max attempted to apologize, but Isabel was too infuriated.
You're sorry? You break a sacred pact and that's all you have to say? It's against the rules Max, the rules we made! Don't you realize that everything has changed."
"No, it hasn't." Max argued, to no avail.
"Max, she's right," Michael told him. "We're screwed."
Isabel and I made a pact of our own, after that day. We re-affirmed our agreement from all those years ago, and we added to it the promise that we would never fall in love with a human. It was just too dangerous.
Instead, we fell in love with each other.
Our love affair officially began in the fall of our senior year, but in reality it had been going on for many years before that. At first, we didn't share our relationship with the outside world, for we knew that Max's reaction would be less than favorable towards us, but eventually the task of keeping it a secret was too much. As expected, Max blew up at me totally, accusing me of corrupting his sister. But one look from Isabel, and one line from her mouth shut him up on the subject forever, for it was clearly a case of the pot calling the kettle black. His relationship with Liz was still something of a sore spot to both Isabel and I.
After graduation, she decided to follow her dream of a modeling career to New York City. I still remember the day she asked me to come with her, so shy and timid was her request. I just laughed at her nervousness, said yes, and began to pack. Isabel still seemed surprised that I had agreed to join her, why I don't know. I'd have followed her to the ends of the earth if she'd asked me.
So we packed up and moved to New York, much to our parents' disapproval. For several years, we led a somewhat idyllic lifestyle together. I found us a tiny little one-bedroom place we could afford; Isabel found herself a waitressing job to pay the bills while she waited for her big break. It took about six months, but finally she was discovered and signed by one of the biggest agencies in town. I worked in a small, eclectic, art gallery during the day, and took art classes at night. Everything was perfect, as it should be.
Isabel lay in the old rocker, staring silently out the window to the dark city beyond. Even at 3am, it was brimming with life and noise and color and magic. She'd gotten home from work almost 2 hours ago, but was still in her diner uniform. For some reason, she didn't want to sleep tonight. Isabel sighed, and moved to get up from her perch for another cup of coffee.
"Don't move," a voice behind her whispered. Isabel turned her head to see Michael sitting in the doorway to their room, a sketchpad on his lap. She grinned at the sight of him, sitting there in his ratty old sweat pants and no shirt, his wild, sleep-tousled hair stinking up in every which direction.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
"Drawing you, just don't move." He turned his concentration back to the sketchpad. Smiling, Isabel resumed her position in the chair, looking once again out the window. Not that she'd ever admit it to him, but she loved it when he drew her. It made her feel beautiful in a way that the photographers and talent scouts couldn't. It made her feel like she was more than just external beauty, that there was something inside only he could see. Only he was allowed to see.
Isabel sat quietly for almost 10 minutes, growing more and more impatient by the second. Finally, she'd had enough. "Aren't you done yet." She asked in a frustrated tone.
"Just one more minute." Michael answered, his eyes never leaving the paper. Isabel tapped her fingers on the arm of the chair, trying to hurry him along. "Ok, you can move now."
"Good." Isabel got up from her seat, and moved to where he was sitting. Lowering herself to the floor beside him, she studied the sketch before her. Michael had captured her perfectly, right down to the look of fleeting concentration on her face. She turned to him. "It's beautiful."
"No, you're beautiful." He countered, leaning over to kiss her.
Yes, our life together was perfect. Until the day I woke up, and she was gone.
Gone, without a trace. No note, no explanation. I tried in vain to track her down, through the modeling agency she was signed with and the diner where she worked. But they both said the same thing. She'd quit and left; no reason why, no forwarding address.
Finally I gave up, and returned home to Roswell, New Mexico. A place I though, prayed, I would never see again. It hurt to be back there, to see so many places and people that reminded me of her. But I moved past it, moved past her. Though I never stopped loving her. After a year or so, Max came home too. He'd been offered a job as head of the new planetarium, and he'd accepted. But I knew his real reasons for returning. To keep his eye on me, and to see Liz Parker.
Their relationship hadn't lasted much past the end of high school, the distances between them during their college years proving too great. They'd parted ways shortly after Isabel and I moved to New York. Max had been devastated, he'd loved Liz Parker for most of his life. But he'd gotten over his heartache eventually, even if he did still harbor feelings for her. He thought that his return to Roswell would be wonderful for them; that they'd rush back into each other's arms and all would be well. He was wrong.
Unlike Max, Liz was not still madly in love with him. She'd found someone else, she'd moved on. She'd married Kyle Valenti. Max was crushed when he found out, and I was infuriated with her. Sheriff Valenti had been our biggest threat during high school, and now the one person besides us who knew our secret was married to his son. I made Max talk to Liz, to make her promise never to reveal us to Kyle. She promised to keep us a secret, and for a while things were calm. But only for a while.
Riiiiing!!!" The phone wailed impatiently, dragging Michael from a deep sleep.
"I'm coming!" he yelled at no one in particular as he stumbled down the hall towards the noise. "Hello?" he answered groggily.
"I know who you are Guerin, I know all about you and those Evans freaks. You're going down, I promise you."
Michael gulped, and blinked, suddenly wide-awake. "Who is this?" he asked, not expecting an answer.
"Just consider me the Grim Reaper." Said the voice on the other end, before hanging up.
Michael hung up the phone on his end, a little shaken up by the words of the caller. This was not good, not good at all. Picking up the phone again, he dialed Max's number. They needed to talk.
Funnily enough, after that phone call nothing happened. No sudden raids by the FBI, no kidnappings or suspicious encounters with strangers, not even any unwarranted parking tickets. Life in Roswell returned to normal, whatever that was.
And then, one day, I answered my front door to find her standing there.
'Three years, and she hasn't changed a bit' Michael thought as he looked at her standing there. She was still the same tall, blonde, breathtaking beauty he had fallen in love with all those years ago. For a moment, he was struck speechless, unable to say anything to her. Eventually, he found his voice.
"What are you doing here?" he asked.
"Max came to me in a dream, said that something was wrong here." She answered, ver tone devoid of any feeling or emotion.
"He's wrong, there's nothing wrong here." Michael told her. "One strange phone call does not equal trouble."
Isabel shook her head. "Unfortunately, in this case it does Michael. You and Max are in grave danger, and I've come here to try and stop it. Can I come in?" she asked.
Michael nodded and moved aside to allow her to enter the house. She glanced quickly over her shoulder in the direction of her car, before turning back and entering the doorway. Michael showed her to the living room, and invited her to take a seat. There was a awkward silence as he waited for her to speak.
"Kyle knows." She finally said. "He knows about us, and if we're not careful he's going to tell his father everything."
Michael stared at her in disbelief. "How do you know this?"
Isabel gave him a look that clearly told him he was treading on shaky ground. "I have my ways," was her only reply. "But I'm going to stop him. Today."
"And how exactly are you going to do that?" he asked.
"It's better you don't know, they may question you later."
"Question me? Isabel, what are you going to do?" Michael asked her again, worried now.
"Trust me Michael, it's better for us both if you don't ask that question."
"Then why did you come here, if you can't tell me anything?"
"Because I need you to do something for me. I can't go and meet Kyle without taking care of this."
They started at one another for a moment, Michael fighting with himself not to give into her again. It would only cause him pain. But his heart won out in the end.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked
Isabel stood up and walked towards the front door. "I'll show you."
That day was the last time I ever saw her. After that day, she just seemed to vanish into nothingness. As I watched her car drive down my street, I didn't know what she was planning to do to Kyle, but I had a pretty good idea. So when I heard later that evening that he'd been found dead in the desert, I wasn't totally surprised. The case was never solved, but Isabel's name was never associated with it. Liz never told anyone, the police included, our secret. Instead, she turned to Max for support. They're still together now, 5 years down the track.
I know Isabel did what she did to help us, but sometimes I still resent her for it. For leaving Max and I like that, for coming back into my life only to leave it again so quickly. But I've moved past it, I've learned to live without her. Besides, I see her face every time I look at our daughter.
Audrey is the reason Isabel came to my house that day, she's the thing that had to be taken care of before her meeting with Kyle. Isabel knew that she couldn't take a child with her, that it wouldn't be safe. And so she bought her to me. It was probably one of the most wonderful things she ever could have done for me.
Michael followed Isabel to her car, wondering what it was she needed him to do. He stood back and watched as she walked around to the rear passenger door and leaned in to retrieve something. She straightened up, revealing a toddler in her arms.
Isabel moved back towards Michael, carrying the little girl who was fast asleep. "I need you to take care of her for me. Just in case." She said quietly.
Michael stood, in shock. "Who is she?" he asked, feeling dumb as soon as the words left his mouth.
"Her name is Audrey, she turned 2 on the 14th of last month." Isabel answered before pausing. "She's our daughter."
Michael stared at her once again. "Our daughter?" Isabel nodded.
"I can't take her with me Michael, it's too dangerous. I need to know she's safe and happy. And I know you can give her that." Isabel gave him a pleading look. "Please."
Slowly he nodded, before reaching out to take the child from her. Isabel held Audrey tightly for a few minutes, before finally handing her over to Michael. He was surprised at how heavy she was, and how beautiful she smelt. Her hair, like her mothers, was blond and wavy. In fact, she was the image of her mother.
Isabel placed several bags and a car seat at Michael's feet, before turning to her daughter once again. She ran her hand over Audrey's face and hands, the tears silently falling down her cheeks. "I love you honey." She whispered almost inaudibly to the sleeping child. "I'll never stop loving you." She kissed her daughter gently on her forehead, before pulling back and looking once again to Michael.
"Is, are you sure about this?" he asked her.
Isabel nodded without hesitation. "It's the only way Michael." She hugged him awkwardly before heading for her car.
"I love you Isabel." Michael called after her, casuing her to stop and turn to him.
"I love you too." She finally responded. "Take care of her for me, and don't let her forget that I love her."
Michael nodded, "I won't. Goodbye Isabel."
"Goodbye Michael." Isabel said before getting into her car and driving away, leaving Michael and their daughter standing silently in the driveway.
Audrey is 7 now, and about to start second grade at Roswell Elementary. She barely remembers her mother, but I tell her about her a lot and show her many photos and drawings I have of her. Max and I have explained to her about her heritage, how it makes her special. She seems to understand our need to be secretive about who we really are, and she takes care in the friendships she makes with other children. She is the most important person in my life, and I almost can't remember what life was like without her.
Sometimes though, usually late at night, I miss Isabel desperately. I look up at the stars and I wonder where she is, what she's doing, how she's doing. And I wonder if she ever think of us; I hope she does. Because I know I think about her. I've never loved another woman since her, and I doubt I ever will.
I thought it was funny when you missed the train
When I rang you at home they said you'd left yesterday
I thought it was strange when your car was found
By the tree in Ennis where we used to hang around
Dear Isobel, I hope you're well
And what you've done is right
Oh it's been such hell, I wish you well
I hope you're safe tonight
It's been a long day coming and long will it last
When it's last day leaving, I'm helping it pass
By loving you more
And who he would become, all the things he'd have done
Would he have loved you and not let you down
And would he be stronger than his father
Don't punish yourself, leave it well alone
Dear Isobel, I hope you're well
And what you've done is right
Oh it's been such hell, I wish you well
I hope you're safe tonight
It's been a long day coming and long will it last
When it's last day leaving, I'm helping it pass
By loving you more
It's been a long day coming and long will it last
When it's last day leaving, I'm helping it pass
By loving, loving, you more
The End