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Just a Touch

Reply to Kristin

Posted to the Roswell Slash list July 20,2000

Title: Just a Touch
Series/Sequel: a prequel to the yet to be finished/posted "Beyond the Touch of Tomorrow"
Author: Kristin W., <kwilcox@ea.oac.uci.edu>
Disclaimer: I'm not trying to infringe on any copywrites here. "Roswell" and its characters belong to the WB and a bunch of other people.
Distribution: Any site is welcome to it. Just keep the heading on it and drop me a line so I can visit. :-)
Fandom:Roswell
Pairing: PG, Kyle/Max
Spoilers: my warped version of a scene in "Destiny" (season finale)
Summary: Only love can conquer death
Authors Note: I was attempting to work on my Max/Kyle piece, but this little scene wouldn't go away. I guess it'll be a prequel...



Press your lips to my heart
Release the breath of life into me
Tear the flesh that surrounds my fear
With the same hand heal the wound

-"Forever", Human Drama

~Just a Touch~

I'm not ready to die.

No one has to tell me that it's the end. The truth hangs there, in the air, supported by all of their faces. And the blood-its sticky warmth is spreading out over my chest. I want to scream to my veins to stop pumping, hold on for a moment, I just need a bit more time... don't I..? If they rush me to the hospital right now...

No.

It can feel it. Death is crawling all over me, permeating my skin, robbing me of my warmth. It chokes me.

But I'm not ready to die.

A steady calm should be stealing over me. A gentle smile should be curving my lips, as I bid my loved ones a tender goodbye. That's what all the books say. That's what they do on TV... And I have to be a hero, it's the only thing that I have left.

But I'm not ready to die.

Panic still clutches at my breast. I fight to breath, to push my chest up and down. There you go...see, we can do this... And my father squeezes my body like a rag doll, like I'm already gone-a shell. He's crying-I can feel the wet tears against my hair, against my face-but I hear nothing. White noise has filled my senses, whispering secrets. It tells me to let go.

But I'm not ready to die.

And then I see an angel hovering over me, pale visage streaked with pain. Such compassion in those brown eyes... He can see right through me and down to my soul, I just know it. And I don't care that for most of my life I've known this boy as Max Evans. Nothing this beautiful can be human. Dark lashes kiss flushed cheeks as he blinks away tears. My dad is pleading, shaking...but it's in a different world, another time. This one is filled with light, the brightness emanating from a bittersweet smile. Oh god, I don't want to go yet. Just a little bit longer, please. I need to touch him, this creature that has been hiding from me in plain sight all of these years. Just a touch...

I'm not ready to die.

* * * * * * * * *

This isn't happening. Close your eyes Max. Maybe if you blink real slow it will all disappear and Kyle won't be laying here dying. Close your eyes damnit! He's too young. *We're* too young. It's too young to die. He's supposed to be there to graduate, go to college, become a cop like his "old man", pick up the pieces for Liz when all of this alien shit goes to hell. He's too alive to die, too *there*.

But where is that electricity, that presence, now? Where is the strength, the fight? It's bleeding out between his fingers, pooling on the ground in this pathetic excuse of a hideout. In the middle of no where. This isn't his fate-no matter what the bullet wound says, no matter what his fading pulse says. This will never be his fate, not while I have to power to change the sands of time.

He's watching me. I can feel his eyes tracking mine, as if he knows my heart holds the key to his survival and not these hands. But he can't, he can't possibly... Is there something in my eyes? Something that gives away that this isn't just some duty, some responsibility? That I *need* to save him just as much as he needs to live..? Because otherwise I'd simply give up, apologize to his grief stricken father, and mourn. Guilt isn't enough to conquer death.

But I can do this. I can reach down inside of myself-past the frustration and jealousy and suspicision-to find love. I find passion in his pursuit of Liz and admire it. I find loyalty and devotion buried deep in his treatment of his father and respect it. I find beauty in his easy movements, challenging smiles, and determined eyes and I crave it. I put my hands on the wound and I see *him*, the Kyle underneath it all. Beneath my hands it all seeps out, coating my insides like syrup. His essence fills me, and I drink it in. I could love this boy...

His eyes are calling me, pulling me in. I think it's time.

Reaching, searching, looking for the place... For the empty place in his mind that I can latch onto and fill... Where I can join us, bring him back from the edge just long enough... Just long enough to make him mine, not death's.

And I can see the world in a new light. I can see it through his eyes and it's awe inspiring. I'm breathless, speechless, running on instinct into a flash of darkness. And shards of memories assault me endlessly, melding with mine into a rainbow of the past. I'm got him now, reeling him in while my hands paint miracles into his chest. I can feel the flesh knitting up under my hands and it sends a wave of relief coursing through my veins.

I can feel Liz's gaze on me as I pull away, but it's colorless. The purples and greens and blues of her emotions bounce effortlessly off my new shield. Strange, being separate again... it's like a breath of fresh air. Her mind might be reaching for mine, her skin might be tingling with longing...but I'm not sure. Fascinating.

I turn for one last glimpse at Kyle, needing to reassure myself of his condition. Our gazes brush each other...and I'm shot. Panicked, I mentally search myself for the wound, mind skimming over head, neck, chest, stomach, legs... Nothing. But it's burning, there's a burning. And my palms, they itch.

Oh god, what have I done?

He's calling to me silently and I need to answer, it's in my blood. I need to feel him. Just a touch... But Agent Pierce is dead. And Michael's hurting. And the world has gone insane. Just a touch...

But I can't. I won't. This isn't right. Close it off Max, cut it off. Push him out of your head. Go *away* Kyle. I couldn't let you die, but GO AWAY.

But he sees me. He sees through the feigned apathy, of course he does. They can do that, the ones I've taken inside of me. I know that now...

And if I had known... If I had known it would be this way, would I have laid my hands on his broken skin? Would I have stepped across the great divide to bring him back if I had known what would happen to us on the other side? Maybe not... Probably so... Definitely yes.

He wasn't ready to die.

And I wasn't ready to let him.

You touch me and suddenly I have no past
My secrets I release willingly
Man and child together as one
Holding in my hands both knowledge and innocence

-"Forever", Human Drama

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The End.

Continue to 'Beyond the Touch of Tomorrow'

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