Author: cardinalgirl
Rating: TEEN
Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been.
Summary: Post-Graduation, a few months out on the road, and Michael finally gets a bit of an explanation to Maria's seemingly hot-and-cold treatment of him over the previous year.
Author's Note: Written for the first Support Stacie Fanfic on Demand Author Auction, for insidious heart, who asked for angsty Michael, and this fic as a whole will have some of what she's looking for. Maria takes precedence at first, but there's definitely angst to be had. This'll be two, maybe three parts. I'll try to get them up quickly, but I'm not quite finished with it, just yet. Lyrics from KT Tunstall's song of the same name.
Heal Over
And I don’t wanna hear you tell yourself
That these feelings are in the past
No it doesn’t mean they’re off the shelf
Because pain is built to last
***
Part 1
“Michael—wait.”
Michael bit back a groan as Maria pushed lightly against his chest, effectively bringing their escalating make out session to a halt. This was only the fourth night since they’d left Roswell—nearly two months ago—that they’d splurged on hotel rooms, and he’d been hearing a lot of Michael—wait.
“What is it this time, Maria?” he asked, as she pulled herself up to a seated position, and he reluctantly followed. He’d thought they were headed in the right direction. Sure as soon as they’d had a moment alone after getting on the road, she’d nailed him to the dirt for once again telling her he loved her before turning around and leaving, but for the most part things were good between them. He had at least said those things, after all, and that was mainly what she cared about. Whenever other people were around things were fine, but then when he finally got her to himself, it was always Michael—wait.
Maria was straightening her shirt, smoothing her skirt, redoing the button on her jacket, and generally giving off every vibe a guy doesn’t want to see when he’s hoping for some action. She cleared her throat delicately. “I think we have to talk.”
“Talk,” he repeated, blankly. “About what?” Whatever it was, he didn’t want to get into it. Not tonight, not when they were finally the only two people inside a set of four walls for the first time in nearly two weeks.
Maria hesitated, and Michael took the opportunity to lean over her and inhale the smell of her hair, then kiss her under her earlobe on that spot she liked, but then, of course—
“No, wait, Michael. I’m serious. I… there’s things I need to say.”
Michael pulled back and settled himself against the headboard, knowing that with that tone of voice, she wouldn’t stop until she’d said what she meant to. The smartest game plan was usually to get it over with.
“Okay… so, talk.”
She took a deep breath, her eyes suddenly focused on her hands in her lap. Michael tried to ignore the pinch of dread that was growing in his stomach at her overly-serious expression. He’d just clamped it down when Maria started to speak.
“Look, Michael, I really don’t know how to tell you this. I’ve been wanting to for a long time, but it’s just hard. So I’d really appreciate it if you tried not to jump to conclusions, alright?”
“You’re sorry you came with us,” Michael said, the dread having thickened into certainty, and the certainty triggering anger, despite himself.
Not surprisingly, hers soon followed.
“I just told you not to jump to conclusions,” she glared.
“Well what am I supposed to think, Maria? You’ve been leading me back and forth like a dog on a chain for nearly a year now, when you’ve known from the start that I can’t afford to have things go halfway in my life. Either you’re in or you’re out, you can’t keep changing your mind.”
“Look would you shut up for a minute and listen to me? This has nothing to do with my decision to be with you or leave Roswell or anything, okay? I don’t regret any of that.”
Michael opened his mouth to fire off a response but then realized what she’d said. “You… what?”
“I said,” she repeated clearly, “this has nothing to do with that.”
“What’s it about then?” The words tumbled out of him almost on their own. He wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved, or worried about uncharted territory.
Maria took another breath. A “cleansing” breath, she’d call it. She did a hell of a lot of breathing sometimes was all he had to say.
“Michael… like you said, I’ve been a little... crazy, this past year.”
“I did not say crazy,” he interrupted, holding a finger up pointedly. Even if she was admitting to this now, he didn’t want to be blamed for it later. “I never said crazy.”
Maria rolled her eyes at his thinly-veiled self-preservation attempt. “What I’m trying to say is that I know I’ve been hot and cold about some things. That I say something one minute and then change my mind completely the next. I’m turning into this complete and utter flake, and I don’t want to be like that, Michael, I just… I’ve been going through some things.”
He sighed, moving closer to her so that he could wrap an arm around her. “Yeah, I know. It’s been the year from hell. Max dying, and then not dying, Isabel getting shot, all of us getting run out of town… it’s been tough on everybody.”
She scooted out of his embrace, slightly, but not entirely, grimacing a little. “No, Michael, believe me, my year has been completely different than your year.”
She wasn’t meeting his eye, and hadn’t since she’d started talking. It was starting to make him nervous. “Why, because you had your five-second music career, hanging around New York with Billy the Skid? Or just because you disappeared half the time and missed out on everything?” he rattled off, knowing it was a bad idea. Knowing he was supposed to be over this.
Finally she looked him in the eye. “Because I got pregnant.”
The next thing he knew, the lamp across the room shattered in a display of sparks, plunging the room into darkness.
***
I think it should have, but....