Mnemosyne's Daughter | (Roswell Fanfiction) | √

FOUR

She watches him approach, feeling the tension vibrating between them. She swallows her anger and forces out, "What's up?"

He's calm and collected when he speaks, "Liz, I just want to talk this through." He shakes his head, communicating weariness. "I don't want this to turn into a war between us, between everyone."

She shakes her head emphatically. "Yeah. Neither do I."

She can't help but wonder, hope, if things are going to change. Is he here to offer his help? To swallow his pride and help her? But as he speaks, her resentment for the person he has turned into resurfaces.

"Look. The other day at the wake, you were upset about Alex." He avoids her eyes, while his tone tries to compromise. "I understand how you might have said the things you said."

There it is. That condescending streak that she has been forced to face everyday the last couple of weeks. Ever since... Too angry to trust her voice, she presses her lips together. "Mm-hmm."

Max continues and she keeps looking at him, surprised at her own lack of surprise at no longer recognizing the person in front of her.

"I'm willing to forget about it." He laughs nervously, "Wipe the slate clean."

Her body tightens in anger. How noble of him, to forgive her for her 'behavior' at the wake.

Biting back a 'Well, Your Highness', she interrupts him. "Max," she takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully and trying her best not to lose her temper, "maybe it wasn't right for me to say what I said just then," she takes another deep breath and looks directly into his eyes, continuing firmly, "and maybe I could have said it a little bit calmer." She pauses, the silence loaded with tension as her unyielding eyes hold his. "But I don't regret it. It's true."

Max looks away, trying to control his apparent frustration. He steps closer to her, his voice low, as he towers over her. "Liz, the way you're going about doing this isn't safe."

She looks at him incredulously, tears of hurt and anger springing up in her eyes. He doesn't trust her enough to do this? She can remember a time when he would trust her with anything. But things have changed, something she realizes more acutely with every controlling word coming out of Max's mouth.

"Talking to people at school, asking questions. Whenever we decided to do something, we always decided as a group."

She opens her mouth to respond, but the stupidity, the hypocrisy of what he is preaching, momentarily leaves her speechless. "Do you believe me? About Alex?"

He pulls backwards, his whole being resigning to the truth of her words. She can see that he knows the point she is about to make before she makes it. Squaring his shoulders, his weak response is in strong contrast to the authoritative aura surrounding him. "No."

Liz blinks, feigning surprise while her expression clearly tells him the ridiculousness of his request even before she utters the words. "Well, then we can't act as a group right now, Max."

*****

"How did Alex die?"

She has a feeling that he knew she was standing behind him, because he doesn't seem startled as he turns to face her. His face is the epitome of calmness. "Alex Whitman?"

She nods.

"That was ages ago, Liz," he says. "You were there, you know what happened."

"I want to hear it from you," Liz says.