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Mirrorball

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Added to the Roswell Slash Archive September 19, 2001

Title: Mirrorball
Author: Debbie
Rating: PG-13 for language
Disclaimer: Roswell is owned by Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, and UPN. All the music is by Sarah McLachlan.
Distribution: Guilty Pleasures and the RSA, if they want it. All others please ask first.
Summary: Angsty songfic -- Alternating Kyle/Max POV.
Author's Note: I wrote this late at night and under the influence of allergy medication, but I *needed* to get something written for my boys, needed it bad. This is the result. Many thanks to Bennie for beta-reading. Oh, and the dream refers to a rumored "cut scene" from TSAP.
Feedback: Liked it? Have something constructive to add? Let me know!

Songs used, in order: Do What You Have To Do, I Love You, Path Of Thorns, Fear; all from my Mirrorball album. Hence the (admittedly lame) title.



every moment marked
with apparitions of your soul
I'm ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
the yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do

but I have the sense to recognize
that I don't know how
to let you go
I don't know how
to let you go

       When did it start? I'm not even sure anymore. Was it when you healed me? Or sooner than that? When I was chasing you and Liz all over the Southwest? The night we got drunk together? Must have been before then -- I remember making fishing remarks about whether you were gay, and I also remember being frustrated that you never answered. All I know is that you've become an all-consuming obsession. You have no idea, of course, as tangled as you've been with Liz and Tess over the past couple of years, but I want you. I want you so bad, it hurts. Maybe that's why I was initially so angry around you -- I just didn't know what to do with everything I was feeling, everything you made me feel. Buddhism has helped me channel that extra energy, but I still want you just as much, if not more.

       Do you know that Liz has seen flashes of you? Yeah, you probably do. I didn't see them when you healed me, but I've seen plenty of things in my own vivid imagination. That night we pretended to sleep together, though, she asked me if I had seen anything. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind -- Max Evans naked. That should prove to you how obsessed I am. Good thing she thought I was just kidding.

       I only wish my subconscious had been kidding the night I dreamed about you. I was having this bizarre dream about Buddha, cell phones and aliens and, all of a sudden, you were in the dream too. In my dream, we had this absolutely amazing connection, and then it turned creepy when I started turning into an alien. When I woke up, I wasn't sure whether to be freaked at the idea that you'd done something to me to make me part alien, or to be happy that, hell, if I had to become an alien, at least you'd been instrumental in that. And the connection we'd shared in our dream was so awesome. Sucks that it wasn't real.

       God, I'm pathetic. I know I should give up this obsession. Stop staring at those muscles, your golden brown eyes, those lips. Stop wishing we actually shared something. It's brought me only brief moments of happiness, out of two years of pain and longing. But it's those brief moments that keep me going -- make me think perhaps there's a chance.

       Shit, I need my head examined.

oh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much I can't say
and you just walk away

       I'm not good with words. I've spent my whole life keeping as silent as possible, afraid to ever reveal anything about my true self. My life, and the lives of two -- and then three -- other people depended on it. In the safety of my own thoughts, I rehearse all the things I ever wanted to say. But the habit of silence is too strong -- even when it's not a life-and-death situation, my tongue remains frozen.

       You're the Big Man On Campus, and the Sheriff's son, as well. How could I not notice you? I went to football games, basketball games. I ate at the Crashdown. I saw you and Liz around town, that summer before she got shot. And then afterwards, you pushed your way into my life, demanding answers, challenging me. How many times had I dreamt about you approaching me? Only -- not like that. One of those "be careful what you wish for, you might get it" lessons, I suppose. You approached me, all right, but you were belligerent as hell -- not really conducive to a confession of feelings, even if you'd known the truth about me. And as much as I wanted to, I couldn't tell you the truth about my identity -- not while your dad was still on the warpath.

       The alcohol you gave me that one night was almost enough to loosen my tongue. Almost. God, there you were, laid back and noncombative for a change, throwing your arm casually around me, leaning in to murmur secrets. I almost kissed you right then. God only knows what would have happened if I'd had more than that one little sip of booze.

       Things got a little easier for a while -- I threw myself into my relationship with Liz as a distraction. She knew the truth about me so, by default, she was the only person I *could* turn to. But then you got shot, you needed me, you learned the truth about who I was, you joined our group -- as an ally. Suddenly, the only barrier left was simply my courage, and it failed me, time and time again. Sometimes -- just sometimes -- it seemed like maybe you felt something for me, too. Then, just as I was convincing myself to let my walls down, I saw you in bed with Liz. You have no idea how much that hurt -- it was a double-edged sword. There you were, in bed, presumably naked, and I had such a strong vision of you as being so much more than a good guy, a good-looking guy. The fact that you were also a sexual being really leapt out at me. I had tried for so long to repress the thought; it was the only way I'd managed to contain my desire. And yet, there you were -- gorgeous, sexy … and clearly straight. It seemed this was my big cosmic sign that I needed to face reality.

       And yet, clearly, I still held out hope. That day in the UFO museum, you looked at me so intensely, I thought -- or did I just imagine it? -- that I'd seen a flicker of something in your eyes. I almost blurted out everything I felt right then and there.

       "Kyle--" I called, and you turned around, looking oddly expectant. And then I realized where I was, what dangers we were facing, and, instead of the words I *wanted* to say, I made up some line about taking care of Liz. You nodded, walked away, and that was the end of that. Another lost opportunity? Or another sign I needed to give up?

through the years i've grown to love you
though your commitment to most would offend
but i stuck by you holding on with my foolish pride
waiting for you to give in
you never really tried or so it seems
i've had much more than myself to blame
i've had enough of trying everything
and this time it is the end

       You have no idea how painful this year has been. Ok, maybe you do -- that's gotta suck, knowing your wife screwed you over like that. But it's been plenty shitty on my end, watching you guys inch toward each other in the first place. She lived in my house and all day long, all I heard was Max, Max, Max. How she needed to get close to you. If I, being a guy, could give her any insight. She even heard about that stupid interview you and I had to do for class last year. She thought it might help her get closer to you, so she dug through all my old papers until she found it. That was hard enough, but once you started paying attention to her -- shit, that hurt. And it was even worse once Liz finally confessed about why we'd done the fake sex thing; there you were, getting cozy with Tess, and I had unknowingly driven you toward her. I must have been an ax murderer in my past life, or something, in order to have fucked-up Karma like this.

       I know some of my football buddies have brothers who compete with them for the girls. But somehow it feels even suckier when it's your *sister* who's providing the competition. For a boy. And she had the past life trump card, to boot. But I didn't really think you'd go for it - you always seemed like your own person, not prone to giving in just because someone pushed you, you know? (Yeah, ok, so you caved when I pushed the booze on you that one time, but that was different.) Yet you got together with her after all. Do you know what it's like to be trying to sleep on a lumpy sofa, only to wake up at 2 am to see you bring her home? To see you kiss her, a mere three feet in front of me? I admit it -- I huddled under my blanket and watched you. Pretended you were kissing me instead.

       I've been waiting a long time for you to kiss me, Evans. Waited while you got yourself untangled from Liz, and snarled even more badly by Tess. Waited while you drove yourself apart from everyone. And then, when it was all over and the truth about Tess came out, I watched you finally reach out -- for Liz again. I'm not really sure what to make of that, especially since I haven't seen you with anyone since then. But I can't keep waiting, especially since I think whatever it is I'm waiting for never existed in the first place. So, sayonara, Alien-boy. I think it's time I moved on.

       Yeah, if it were only that easy.

but i fear
i have nothing to give
i have so much to lose here in this lonely place
tangled up in your embrace
there's nothing i'd like better than to fall
but i fear
i have nothing to give

       The trouble is, after all that's happened this year, I'm not sure I *could* be with you now, even if you showed up on my doorstep tomorrow morning and confessed your everlasting love. The whole experience with Tess has drained me entirely. I gave up my friendship with Liz and my bond with my sister. Drove a wedge between the humans and the aliens so large, the Grand Canyon was dwarfed in comparison. I tried to forget you. I did everything I thought I was supposed to do, to fulfill my so-called Destiny. God, I hate that word. Destiny did this to me. Made me a King and gave me a bride, when all I ever wanted to do was just go to school, hang out with friends, be with the boy I'd been admiring for so long. Just be normal. Yeah, ok, so being with a boy isn't considered 'normal' by a lot of people, but it felt normal to me.

       Instead, I was handed this Destiny, and I tried to live by it, as best as I could. I let Tess teach me her memory retrieval techniques. I let her plaintive whimpers about my past love for her guilt me into trying to recreate that experience. I even went to bed with her, a mistake which now has life and breath of its own. Assuming no one has tried to kill my son. Assuming there ever *was* a son. Right now, I'm not sure I believe my own parents when they say the sun rises in the East and sets in the West. I don't know if what I remembered with Tess is real or not. And now I'm not even sure the baby was real. You didn't know you'd been mindwarped; past experience has taught me my alien senses aren't any better at identifying or fending off that kind of manipulation.

       So I gave up everything for the charade of Destiny, and got nothing in return; now I'm alone. I might be able to rebuild the trust I had with the others -- if I'm lucky. But I'm not sure I have the energy to try right now. Did your dad ever read you that story "The Giving Tree" when you were a kid? The tree just gave and gave and gave of itself, anything the boy needed to be happy. But I can't do it anymore. I have nothing left to give, and even if I did, I'm not sure I'm ready to risk losing it all again so soon.

       My life has been reduced to sitting in my dim room, listening to music, and thinking of my regrets and disappointments. If only I'd had the courage to face you sooner. If only you'd been my Destiny, instead of Tess.

       If you only thought about me, the way I do about you.

       End.

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