Eyes of the Soul


Author: Liz
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Summary: Future fic. A visitor comes to Roswell, and finds a lot more than he was looking for.


He stared up unblinkingly at the neon sign, contemplating once again his decision to come here. Back to where it had all started, where the truth lie. To the place that held so much pain for him.

He'd arrived in Roswell only this morning. From the moment he stepped into the town, he'd known where exactly it was he wanted to be...but yet he never did seem to end up there. He was almost afraid of going. Instead, he was here. Wherever here was. Somewhere in town, a place called the Crashdown Cafe.

It looked slightly cheesy...tourist trap kind of place, but somehow he felt drawn here. It was kind of spooky.

He could see through the windows that the place was empty, even though the Open sign still glared a red welcome at him. The only person in the whole restaurant was sitting at the bar, a short brunette who was drinking coffee. Even as he was thinking that he shouldn't go in, that there were more important things to be taken care of, he found himself pushing open the door.

Too late to turn back now.

A soft chime echoed through the dining room, and he watched as the girl turned a little from where she sat.

"Hello?"

He slid into the first booth he came to.

"Welcome to the...Crashdown Cafe."

He watched her intently, puzzling over the confused look on her own face. As if she didn't know what to do. He wondered if she was the waitress, and if so, why she wasn't coming back to wait on him.

She listened for another moment, face strained, and then turned again.

"Dad!"

Shortly after, a tall, gray-haired man came striding from somewhere in the back of the diner, carrying an order pad and a pen. He spotted him instantly, a smile lighting up his face.

"Hi, welcome to the Crashdown. What can I get for you tonight?"

He looked around quickly, searching for the menu, but found none.

"Umm..what are your..specials?"

"Will Smith burger."

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Definitely a tourist trap.

"Fine."

The man smiled at him again before jotting down the order on his book.

"And to drink?"

"Cherry cola."

"Be right back with that."

The man took off again, whistling a little as he walked. When he passed by the bar, the girl at the bar stopped him.

"Dad. Is there anything I can do?"

He could read the hesitation on the man's face easily. It looked like it almost hurt for him to talk to the girl.

"It's..ok, honey. I've got it."

"Okay."

Her father disappeared into the back once again, and the girl turned back to her coffee, her shoulders slumped more than before. He couldn't seem to take his eyes away from her. There was just something.....

A tall glass of dark liquid was set down in front of him, and then the man was leaning down close to him.

"Don't even think about it."

He stared at the man in shock.

"What are you talking about?"

"Her. Stay away from her. She doesn't need any tourists bothering her about.."

"Look..I don't know what your problem is, but I can assure you it's probably not that great for business to be back here threatening your customers. I'm hungry and I have money, so please do your job and make my food."

He didn't know what exactly it was this man had said that had set him off, but he had.

"This is my restaurant, and when it comes to my daughter, she matters more than my business. Now I will cook your food, but if I find out that you've bothered her, you'll be getting a lot more than a hamburger."

He stood up and left then, back to where he sat, casting a glance over at his daughter before he returned to the kitchen.

Even after her father's angry words, he still felt drawn to her. Something about her cried out to him, pulled him.

He wondered what she was like, what her life was like, why she seemed so sad. What she was doing here all alone on a Saturday night, with only her dad. Drinking coffee alone. What she looked like.

He hesitated only a moment longer before pushing himself out of the seat, quickly crossing the space that separated them before he could lose his nerve. He settled down two bar stools away from her, at first facing forward but then slowly edging himself around until he could see her out of the corner of his eye.

Only her profile was visible, barely hidden behind a cascade of silky dark hair. He was taken by her simple beauty.

He studied her carefully, eyes glued to her form as she continued to stare straight ahead. She didn't even seem to notice that he was sitting there beside her.

He cleared his throat loudly.

She seemed startled by the sound, jumping up slightly and jerking her head around wildly. First to her right, even though he was sitting on her left. A sharp pang of realization hit him, even before she looked at him. But when she did, he knew for sure. She was blind.

Dread washed over him and he choked on his own breath, staring at her carelessly, into the glassy depths of her unseeing eyes. She had beautiful eyes.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know anyone was here."

He heard the tears in her voice, the ones she was fighting to hide.

"I'm sorry I startled you."

She seemed to have figured out where he was by then, eyes unblinking as they peered at him. It was disturbing.

"I'm..sorry about my dad too."

He shook his head, even though he knew she couldn't see.

"He's just watching out for you."

"He doesn't know how to act. He doesn't understand."

Somehow, he knew what she meant by that.

"How did it happen?"

He wondered where that had come from. And why he actually did care.

"In an..accident. The bullet wasn't meant for me, but I got it anyway. My brain swelled...it got better eventually, but I never got my sight back."

She seemed almost past tears by then, as she explained it to him. Her voice was more cold, factual. Hateful.

"I'm sorry."

"But I did it for nothing. I couldn't save them. I tried, but I couldn't save them. And now.....useless. It was all useless."

Her voice cracked, and she turned her face away. The shower of hair tumbled around her again, hiding her away from his view.

"I'm sorry. I usually don't talk this much about..it. Especially to strangers."

"I hope you don't have a habit of apologizing when you haven't done anything wrong either."

He held his breath while he watched her breathe, almost as if it was enough for both of them. Amazed by the sudden connection that he felt to her.

"No sacrifice is useless."

His words were punctuated by her solitary sob, a desperate sound that tore through him painfully.

"But it was. It was..."

His arms ached to hold her. He wanted to tell her that it was okay to cry, okay to talk about it, okay to hurt. But his lips wouldn't open, his mouth wouldn't move.

He could only watch her, shoulders shaking silently, more hair falling until her face was completely hidden away.

And then her father appeared in front of him, plate grasped firmly in his hand, his face bright red.

"I told you not to bother her! Get out, no-"

"Stop it dad!"

He seemed hesitant to break his angry glare, but when he looked at his daughter, his gaze visibly softened.

"I was talking to him. Just..go."

The man looked positively pitiful.

"But honey.."

"Go."

He didn't even look at him as he placed his plate before him, cast another wistful glance at his daughter, and walked away.

"He tries to hide me from everyone. I think he must be ashamed of me."

"No, not ashamed. Afraid for you, I would say. He doesn't want to see you hurt anymore. You don't deserve to be."

Her eyes came back to rest upon him, burning him to the core. He thought that if her eyes couldn't see, then her soul certainly could. More clearly than anyone could ever imagine.

"What's your name?"

He smiled.

"Michael."

A tiny smile turned up the corners of her beautiful lips.

"Michael. That sounds..familiar."

"I hear that a lot. So are you gonna tell me yours, or do I have to guess?"

She smiled a little more, and his spirits soared.

"Liz."

"Short for Elizabeth?"

"Yeah."

"Such a beautiful name."

She blushed.

"Thank you."

He looked back towards the window, back into the town where he had wandered for hours but never seemed to find what he was looking for. He wondered now if he finally had.

Raindrops had begun to softly come down from the sky, splattering lightly across the glass of the windows, pattering gently on the roof. It was growing heavier by the second, and he could sense that there was a storm nearing. A warning sounded in him that it was time to leave, before it was too late, to find shelter.

"It's going to thunderstorm."

He glanced at her.

"I thought so."

"Do you have a place to stay?"

"No, I was just..passing through. Wasn't really planning on staying here for too long."

"Looks like you'll have to now. 'Til tomorrow, at least. It'll probably be pretty bad."

He looked back outside, at the rain that was now beating down on the pavement in slanted sheets.

"It looks like it."

"We have rooms upstairs, if you want to stay here tonight. No charge."

Another tiny warning sounded off in his head.

"What about your dad?"

"He'll get over it."

He smiled.

"Thanks."


He didn't know how long he had been lying there in the dark, listening to the rain and thinking. He was pretty sure that it had probably been a few hours, at the least, since she had shown him to the room. Gone out of her way to make sure that he was warm and comfortable, had clothes to sleep in. A lot more than he deserved.

He stared up at the ceiling through the blackness, thinking about the night. It had started out so dismal, and turned into something so...surreal. It was the only word that could appropriately describe tonight. Surreal.

Coming here, finding her..this stranger, this girl that he had never met before in his life, but yet felt such a connection to. It was like she held a part of him in one of her tiny palms, a tiny string that was latched onto him and could pull him to her whenever she pleased. The sound of her voice was like music, singing to the chorus of the rain in his memories. He wished that he could remember her forever, even after he was miles away from here. She was the one bright spot in all of the darkness of his past, and he intended to hold on to that forever.

He heard the sound of the door quietly creaking and watched as the door slowly open, only a dim light streaming in through the crack.

A dark figure slipped through the opening and then the door closed again, enveloping him in darkness.

"Liz?"

"Yeah."

The sound of her 'seeing stick', as she called it, its muffled tapping on the carpet.

He felt her softly bump against the bed, her hand as she felt her way around to the side. She sat down then, on the very edge, propping her stick against the bed.

"I'm sorry for coming here."

"It's alright."

"Could we..talk? I feel silly for asking, but...I don't really have anyone else."

He swallowed.

"Sure."

She didn't say anything for a few minutes, and he was afraid that she had changed her mind.

"Sometimes I can't help but wish that...some of it would never have happened. The problems, running..the shooting. Of course, without those things there would have never been the good things, either. And I would never give up those for the world. I know that if I had to go back and do it all over again...be with him, and do everything that I did for him, I would without hesitation. But I just wonder that if I might have done some things differently, been a little smarter or a little better, I might still be able to see. Or I might still have him."

She took a shaky breath.

"I met him in the 10th grade. Well..not really. In the 3rd grade was the first time. But I never really knew him until the 10th. He had a secret, and he kept his distance. But then something happened..something big, and I found out his secret. I knew everything, and he couldn't hide from me anymore. I had always been attracted to him, but after everything changed...I fell in love with him. I loved him so much. But he kept telling me that we couldn't be together, because of our..differences. It hurt, but I always respected his decision."

Another breath, and a longer pause.

"Then he changed his mind. He decided that he wanted to be with me. He told me that he loved me, and that nothing else mattered. We were finally together, and I was so happy. When he kissed me...everything else disappeared. And I just kept thinking that for him, I would do anything. I would die. I never knew that one day, I really would have to give something up."

He could hear her crying, but knew that he shouldn't reach out for her.

"And then she came to town. Tess. She took him from me. I never completely understood..about her. I just knew that he acted so differently..just like before, he was pulling away, avoiding me. I felt like something was off, was wrong..with her. That was messing him up. I tried to tell him, but he just said I was being jealous. So I dropped it. But the feeling never went away... I should've known, though. I should've trusted myself. In the end, she turned out to be the one he had been so afraid of his entire life. She was the one who betrayed him, and she was the one who killed him. Who killed me."

Michael's chest heaved up and down in front of him. She was sitting silently now, very still, right beside where his knees were. He knew that he was hurting. He was hurting. For her.

"I loved Max so much. But because I didn't try harder...I didn't nag him, I should've nagged him. I was always so good at that before. I was so lovesick, though. I just wanted to make him happy. If I hadn't been so selfish, he and Isabel would still be alive. I would be able to see. Like I said, it was all useless."

Michael's breathing stopped. His chest constricted in protest, bright dots flashing in front of his eyes. He felt like he was drowning, drowning in the darkness.

'Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God.'

"Michael?"

He gasped for breath, throat finally opening, lungs finally working. Choking on the air that he pulled in greedily, he coughed into his hand.

"I'm...sorry..I..."

"What's wrong?"

"Did you say Max..and Isabel?"

He had to know.

"Yes. Why?"

In that moment, his entire lifetime flashed before his eyes. It seemed like one of those things that only happened in movies, but it was happening to him. He saw pictures, memories, from his childhood...growing up. He, Max, and Isabel, the first night they had met. Together in the foster home.

Being adopted. Living together with the Evans'. Being sent away. Watching Max and Isabel from the rear window of the car, as he had driven away from them and away from Roswell.

Their secret. Their shared secret. And she knew. He knew that it was the secret she was talking about, and that Max had told her. He didn't doubt for a moment that he had done the right thing.

"No reason."

He whispered the words quietly, aching as he lied to her but not knowing anything else to do. She had been through so much, given up so much, and all for them. All three of them. She had almost died trying to save them, and lost her sight in the course of it all.

"Ok."

He closed his eyes again, seeing her in his mind. Her and Max and Isabel. He was all that was left. He was the only one left whole, completely redeemed.

He had come to Roswell to find closure from their deaths, and instead he had found an angel. Their angel.

"Thank you."

He felt him scooting closer to her.

"For what?"

"For..helping me."

"Oh, it's no problem. We always have extra room."

"But you've done so much more."

But she never heard his whispered words.

"Thank you for listening."

"It's no problem," he repeated.

"I'd probably better go to bed now."

"Stay?"

He sucked in a breath. All he wanted was just a little more time with her. Just to be near her, just to hear her breathe. Then he could let go. It was all of the closure he needed. Just to know that she would be forever safe from harm...without him.

"If you want."

He pushed down the covers, and gently pulled her down next to him. She snuggled in closely to him, her arms tucked together against his chest.

"Goodnight, Michael."

"Night Liz."

That night, he truly fell asleep in the arms of an angel.

The early morning sun streamed in through the heavy blinds in the room, and Michael instantly woke up from the soundest sleep he'd ever had.

She was still there in his arms, in the same position as he'd last seen her, right before drifting off. She looked glorious in the sunlight, a soft smile on her lips. He wished that he could kiss her. But he never could. He would never do that to Max, or his memory. He would never hurt her like that. He already knew that he was leaving that day. Even though it would hurt, he had to. If not for himself.

But he also had one other thing to do. A parting gift to the woman that he knew he loved.

So he lie there, waiting patiently and just watching her until she finally woke up. Her eyelids fluttered softly before opening, her smooth eyes piercing him. She smiled gently.

"Good morning."

"Morning."

"You want some breakfast?"

"No...I gotta be heading out."

She looked stricken.

"You're leaving?"

"Yeah...I hate to, but I have to."

"Why?"

"I found what I came here for..and so much more."

A tear fell from her eye, and he gently kissed it away.

"Don't cry. Please, don't cry."

"I just..."

"I know. I wish that things were different too. If only you knew."

"But I do know."

He swore to himself that he would not cry as he pulled away from her.

"Maybe you do."

He stood up, and she sat up in the bed, wrapping her arms around her tiny frame.

"Will I ever..hear from you again?"

"Maybe."

"I guess that'll have to be good enough."

"It's all I can give you. I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry, Michael."

He smiled.

"Okay."

He handed her stick to her and she stood, finding her way to the door.

"Lead the way."

They walked downstairs together and into the diner, past the bar where he had first spoken to her and beside the booth where he had sat.

"Thanks again, Liz."

She smiled.

"Anytime."

He took a step closer to her, leaning down until he was only inches away.

"Close your eyes."

Her eyes slid shut, and she stood completely still, breathing softly. He closed the distance between then, placing his lips on her gently, kissing her ever-so-softly. He took his lips from hers and then kissed her eyelids, one by one, his own eyes closed to the tears that welled up inside of him.

"I love you, Liz," he whispered.

A sob escaped her throat, and her eyes slid open.

She could see. And he was gone.

She wasn't really shocked, though. Because like she had told him, she did know. She had always known. Max had never told her, but she'd understood. From the moment he'd walked into the diner.

He had come to her a stranger, but she had known his soul. He had given her the gift of sight and the gift of love, and she would never forget him for either.

THE END

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