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impala_evolvedTitle: 5 Times Isobel Hated Being an Alien, and 1 Time She Didn't
Pairing: Isobel & Michael & Max
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 4,524
Summary: Growing up, Isobel never wanted to embrace being an alien. But there are moments when she can't deny who she is.
A/N: I finished this after editing/combining a few smaller comment fics that I wrote forscintilla10 and some Tumblr prompts.
Fic on AO3
Chapter 1: Elementary School
Isobel knows that Michael is feeling extremely nervous, but he’s trying not to let it show as he walks a little behind Isobel and Max, pushing his bicycle. Today is the day he’s going to meet their mom for the first time, and Isobel really wants it to go well.
Isobel hates that Michael has to live separate from them, and she hates how lonely he looks sometimes. She really wants to prove to him he’s not so alien after all. So Isobel and Max have both carefully planned out the whole day for him. They waited for an early-release school day, because they knew their dad would still be at work. Max had shoved one of the polo shirts he’d outgrown into his backpack so that Michael could change at school before they left. He acted like he didn’t want to change, but Isobel’s insistence wins him over. At least his jeans passed her inspection, since he hadn’t been working at the junkyard that day.
Just before they round the corner to their house, Max and Isobel stop and give Michael a once-over. Isobel declares him ready, and Michael smiles cautiously and gives her a thumbs up as he ditches his bike on the curb.
“She’s going to love you,” Isobel says with a gentle hand on his arm.
Then she marches up the front steps and pushes open the unlocked front door. She doesn’t turn around, confident that Michael is going to follow her.
Max shouts, “Hey Mom, we’re home!”
“Is your friend here?” She calls back.
Their mom emerges from the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist, and her hair in a sharp updo without one hair out of place.
“Yes Momma, this is Michael!” Isobel gestures towards Michael.
Max elbows him lightly in the ribs and clears his throat. Michael is supposed to say something. Something they’d practiced several times that day. Isobel holds her breath.
“Hello Ma’am, nice to meet you.”
“I hope you’re staying for dinner,” she says with a smile. It seems genuine.
Isobel breathes a sigh of relief. She knows how important first impressions are, but things are going well so far.
“I don’t know, Ma’am. I have to get back home soon.” Michael says the lines they’d rehearsed earlier, so that he has an excuse to leave.
“Oh alright, well it’s lovely to meet you.”
Isobel sees Michael takes a deep breath. Isobel wraps her arm around his elbow, and he’s promptly marched up the stairs to their room. They’re mostly left to their own devices for an hour. Max shows Michael his book collection, and then Isobel busts out a bunch of CDs for Michael to pick from.The CDs seem completely foreign to him but he picks one anyway, and they blast music on Isobel’s hot pink boombox.
Mom brings them all lemonade and cookies. He thanks her profusely, which they hadn’t practiced. This makes Isobel think maybe Michael has never had fresh-baked cookies before.
After he eats his cookie, Michael says, “This is so much better than sneaking into Max’s window.”
Isobel almost asks why, but then she doesn’t. Michael has already been so vulnerable with them. She can tell by how uncharacteristically soft-spoken and shy he’s being. She doesn’t want to do anything to make this situation seem weird or out of place. She wants Michael to feel welcome at their house always.
Later, after he says he has to leave, he walks over to Max’s window and pushes it up like he’s about to climb out.
“You can go out the front door, remember?” Max says.
Michael starts to laugh at himself for the silly mistake, but he catches the sad tilt of Max’s mouth. Isobel looks between them, worried that things might get awkward.
“You’re right,” Michael says, smiling. “I feel so normal here.”
She and Max beam at him. That’s all Isobel wanted for Michael today. Then Michael heads down the stairs to say goodbye to their mom.
“You’re always welcome back, Michael,” Ann says, and then presses a baggie of cookies into his hand. Michael looks both surprised and delighted as he clutches the bag to his chest.
He waves to all three of them as he walks back out to his bike. Isobel rushes upstairs to watch him leave from her bedroom window. He still looks happy, which is a relief.
Chapter 2: Halloween
Isobel is in her room, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her algebra textbook open when she hears a strange rattling sound coming from outside her second story window. It only lasts a few seconds, so she turns back to her homework. She chews on her pencil eraser and tries to find her focus again. Math isn’t exactly her favorite subject but she’s definitely not going to let Max get a better grade than her on the exam.
Then, there’s a louder sound, almost like a knock. She jumps. It’s probably just the wind or something, but she unfolds her legs and gets up from her bed to check anyway.
She sees a branch shaking, its sparse leaves dancing outside her window. It must have hit her window or the wall, that’s all. She huffs a laugh and climbs back onto her bed.
October is always a strange time of year in Roswell. The darkness comes on quicker, there's a chill in the air, and people start acting real weird. Not to mention there are always a ton of people dressed like little green aliens running around town. Isobel is occasionally amused by how ridiculously off-based their assumptions about aliens are, but more often than not she's supremely annoyed. The stupid costumes always remind her of how un-human she actually is. Maybe the paranoia of being discovered has her feeling a tad bit on-edge.
Just as she’s about to reach for her TI-84 calculator, there’s a crash against her window. This time she’s so startled her book and her pencil go tumbling off the bed. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps break out on her arms.
“What the hell?” She says as she gets up again. She gathers her courage, and her sharpest pencil, and slowly walks towards the window.
This time when she looks out, she notices Michael’s mop of curly dark hair. She hurriedly unlatches the latch and pushes the window open.
“What are you doing?” She hisses. She thought he'd outgrown breaking into their house. He'd been through the front door several times before. "Sneaking around my window is not normal human behavior."
“Why are you holding a pencil up?” Michael asks instead of answering. He’s perched on the end of a branch. It’s sagging almost below her window and it looks awfully precarious. She has no idea how long he’ll be able to stay like that.
“I was ready to stab you, you idiot!”
“Halloween must have Izzy on edge,” Michael teases.
Isobel rolls her eyes. “Shut up and get in before you fall.”
Michael ungracefully grabs her window sill and pulls himself inside. Isobel ditches her pencil on her desk and then turns and puts a hand on her hip.
“Okay, so why are you here?”
“Max is not home,” Michael says as he scuffs his boot against the carpet.
“Yeah, he has science club.” With LIz Ortecho, Isobel doesn’t need to add. They both are very aware of Max’s ridiculous crush.
“Well, is it cool if I hang out here?”
Isobel raises an eyebrow, about to say she’s got way too much homework to ‘hang out.’ But she knows how often he hangs out in Max’s room, and it’s not because they’re partying. Max is way too much of a square for that. She’s heard some very vague but generally horrible things from Max about Michael’s foster Dad. Maybe Michael just doesn’t want to go home.
So she nods instead.
“Yeah, sure. Maybe you can help with algebra?”
Michael grins. “Oh, for sure.”
Isobel clears the stack of books from her desk chair so that Michael can sit. She’s not going to admit it, but she’s actually grateful for the company. At least if there are any more spooky sounds, she won’t be alone.
Chapter 3: Homecoming
“Max, I really need you to keep stirring this,” Isobel says as soon as Max steps into the kitchen.
Max dutifully steps up to the chili pot on the stove and takes the wooden spoon from her.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “But is this sweater alright? I don’t want to look like a nerd today.”
There’s no way she’s going to pass up on an opportunity to tease her brother.
“Doesn’t matter what sweater you wear. You’ll still look like a nerd.”
“Ha. Thanks a lot.” Max rolls his eyes and pouts over the chili pot.
Isobel leaves him to it and heads over to the counter to finish up the alien shaped cookies she baked the night before. It’s the day of New Roswell High’s homecoming, and Isobel had volunteered to contribute to the chili cook off and the bake sale, which is why she’s frantically cooking before school starts.
As she squeezes green frosting out of a tube, she goes over the plan for the day in her head. She’s playing in the powder puff game that afternoon before the football game starts, which is after the float parade. After all of that is the dance, which means she is going to have to bring her dress and change at some point after powder puff in the locker room.
She wonders what Max has planned for the day. He’s usually not the kind of guy who likes attending school spirit stuff.
“So, you got a date tonight for the dance?” Isobel asks, her voice teasing.
“You sound like Mom,” Max grumbles.
“Ouch,” Isobel intones as she focuses on switching frosting tubes and adding little eyes to the cookies.
“Why are you doing all this, Iz? It seems like way too much.”
It is probably too much, but she wants it that way. If she’s involved in every homecoming event, she can prove to herself that she’s succeeding at pretending to be human. No one would ever suspect she’s anything other than an over-achieving American high-schooler.
“I like being busy,” she settles on. “And your sweater looks great.”
She’s being sincere, and she looks up to see Max’s shoulders relax a fraction.
“Thanks,” he says.
They work in silence for a beat, and then Max speaks up again.
“Liz is coming to homecoming. She texted me about it earlier.”
Isobel can tell that Max is trying very hard to sound nonchalant as he turns slightly to look at her. She purposefully doesn’t laugh, even though his earlier question about his sweater makes way more sense now.
“Well, she’ll need to hang out with someone in the stands during the game. That’s where you come in,” Isobel says as she points a frosting tube at Max.
He narrows his eyes at her. “Maybe, but I’m sure she’s going to be there with Rosa.”
Max’s eyebrow is raised, as if waiting for Isobel to say something. Isobel is quiet at first, biting at her bottom lip in thought. There’s something about Rosa that tangles up her guts and makes her feel off balance. She wouldn’t call them friends, but they’ve hung out way more than just casual acquaintances would. That’s probably why Max is looking at her, hoping she’ll offer to get involved so that Max isn’t third-wheeling.
“I could probably hang out with Rosa,” she finally says.
Max grins like a total dope and puts his arms out like he’s going to hug her. She shakes her head.
“Absolutely no PDA. Keep stirring!”
Max laughs and turns back to the pot.
Isobel looks her cookies over, and lets the pleasant tingle of satisfaction from a job well done take her mind off of Rosa Ortecho. She’s way too busy today to lose her focus.
Chapter 4: The Airstream
“So this is the room where it happens?” Isobel says with her arms out wide, teasing.
“Ha, you’re hilarious,” Michael deadpans.
He turns his attention to the table in front of him with some kind of power tool in his hand, but Isobel is too intrigued by the scenery to watch what he’s doing.
When Michael said he wanted to show Isobel something, she’d never expected him to have an entire bunker hidden underneath his brand new airstream. Or at least, it's new to him. He finally had something to call his own, and Isobel is infinitely proud of him.
But the strangeness of the hidden bunker isn't lost on Isobel. Once she’d descended down the narrow metal staircase, she found the space to be brimming with interesting odds and ends. There are jars with brightly colored liquids stacked along a shelf, and massive bundles of wire. Not to mention all kinds of electronics with their backs off and their guts spilling out all over the huge metal table in the center.
What’s most interesting are the glowing pink and purple pieces of glass that are resting on a small shelf off to the right. As she approaches them, the light shifts even more and the glowing intensifies. It sure feels like the glass is reacting to her presence.
“You feel it too?” Michael says as he comes up behind Isobel.
Isobel nods. “What are they?”
“Alien. At least I think. There’s no substance I can find on Earth that’s like it.”
Isobel can’t help the gasp that escapes her as she reaches out to touch. The colors swirl and dart away from her finger, but when she removes her hand the colors coalesce again. There's a sinking feeling in her gut now. This glass is definitely alien, and a stark reminder of how different they are. She kind of hates that Michael showed her this. Now she knows he has contraband, another secret that she has to keep.
“I wanted you to see them. Even though I haven’t figured out much yet,” Michael continues.
“What about Max?” Isobel says, reaching out to touch the glass again.
“I wasn’t sure he’d be interested.”
Isobel turns sharply to look at him, a rebuke already on the tip of her tongue, but Michael’s brow is furrowed like he’s worried. His expression gives her pause. Michael looks down at his boot, seemingly withering away from Isobel’s look, and scuffs it against the pavement.
“But I’ll show him, too,” He quickly adds. “He had work today.”
Isobel nods, satisfied that at least she can share this burden with Max. If the glass is really alien, Max needs to know too. All three of them are in this together, no matter what kind of petty fight Max and Michael are in at the moment.
"The glass is beautiful," she admits.
She catches Michael's triumphant grin before he turns back to his work table. It’s obvious that he’s in his element here. Plus it actually feels way more lived in than most of the rooms he’s stayed in in the past. She watches him for a little while, comforted by the fact that the alien glass doesn't try to kill them or start levitating or something. She can keep Michael's secrets. She's gotten good at that over the years.
“Thank you, Michael. For sharing this with me.” She gestures at the entire space, not just the glass.
Michael gently bumps his knuckles against her shoulder and smiles.
Isobel knows it's hard for Michael to be open with anyone, and she sure doesn’t fault him for that. But she’s grateful for how close they've grown lately.
Chapter 5: The Hospital Parking Lot
The tires of the jeep squeal to a halt in the Roswell Community Medical parking lot. Max reaches for his door before he even puts it in park.
“Wait, Max.” Isobel throws out her arm to stop him from getting out, and he leans back in his seat.
She hates the way her voice shakes. She blows out a breath, puts down her arm, and silently tells herself to get a grip.
When Isobel looks up, Max is staring at her with an eyebrow raised.
“Iz." He sounds annoyed. "What? We have to go in there -”
“Not before we talk about this. I mean, what if Mom is really sick?”
“We don’t know that yet. All we know is that she went to the Emergency Room, and they admitted her. Dad said they don’t even have a diagnosis yet.”
Isobel shakes her head and crosses her arms.
“I know what Dad said. But he might not be telling us everything,” she says, squinting at him like this point should have been obvious already.
Max gestures out his window. “Okay, but the only way to find out is if we go inside.”
“You’re not getting it, Max.” Isobel drops her voice before she continues. “I think we should make a plan. If this is serious.”
Max huffs. “What does that mean? What plan? We aren’t doctors.”
Isobel throws up her hands in a way that she hopes clearly conveys how stupid she thinks he’s still being.
“Are you fucking serious right now? You can heal people with your hands, Max,” she hisses.
Max’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. It must not have occurred to him that he could use his powers. She could laugh, considering it was the first thing she thought of when her Dad called her and told her to come to the hospital. It had been on her mind the entire anxious wait in the high school parking lot as she paced up and down on the unseasonably hot pavement. When Max finally arrived from god knows where to pick her up in his jeep, they hadn’t said a word to each other. But Isobel had been thinking about it then, too. She figured Max would have been, too.
“We aren’t there yet. Mom is going to be fine.” Max’s voice goes uncharacteristically high at the end. He clenches his hands on his steering wheel.
“You don’t know that,” Isobel says through gritted teeth. She thinks this is the moment where they need to be absolutely honest about how different they are from humans, and how far they’d go for their family. Isobel thinks talking about this is just being realistic. She’s never been a true optimist, anyway.
“I know I said before that we should do everything to protect our secret. But she’s the exception. Look, I’ll figure out a way to cover for you. A diversion or something.”
Max glances over at her, his eyes wet at the corners. She can hear how shallow he’s breathing.
“I don’t know if I agree.”
The words hit Isobel like a punch to the gut. She gasps. It’s almost incomprehensible to her that Max would be the one to refuse to do this. Saving their mom is the right thing to do, damn the consequences.
Max is usually all about that kind of morality.
“She’s the one who saved us, Max. She’s the one who gave us a home when we thought we’d never fit in. You can’t be serious right now.”
“I’m not saying I won’t do it,” Max hisses. “I’m just saying we should think about this a little more.”
Isobel sighs and leans back against the passenger seat.
“Okay, fine. I guess I’m just… I’m worried we won’t have time to talk in there. Like what if they’re wheeling her into surgery or something? God this fucking sucks.”
Isobel runs her fingers through her hair and feels tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She refuses to look over at Max. She knows she shouldn’t be angry at him, not when he hasn’t even made a decision. But it sort of feels like he has.
She hears him exhale, and then he puts his arm around her. She doesn’t move away, even though that’s her first impulse. She can feel his fear now that he’s so close, rolling down his skin like invisible beads of sweat. At least he’s not angry at her.
“I’m scared too, Max. I shouldn’t have… we should go see her first.”
Max hugs her tighter before he lets her go.
“Iz, I trust you. I just hope we don’t have to make any decisions like that today.”
When Max starts being the more logical one, Isobel knows she needs to real herself back in. Maybe she was panicking just a little. At least he had said we. That's probably a good sign.
Her lashes feel wet, so she flips down the visor to check her make up in the mirror as she says, “Yeah, okay. One step at a time.”
“Let’s go,” Max says as he opens the door. She lets him get out this time.
---
It turns out that no one needs to expose their alien powers. Ann Evans just has an ordinary human infection, treatable with ordinary human antibiotics.
Isobel is relieved and delighted, and that mollifies her temporarily. But later, when she’s home and laying on her bed thinking about human mortality, she can’t believe she’s never given Max’s extraordinary God-like ability more thought until now. She wants to know where the line is when it comes to saving people, and why he didn’t want to cross it for their adopted mother. Would he even cross it for her?
She supposes it’s better this way, not knowing what Max would do. Even though it’s technically Max’s burden to bear and not hers, it feels like another terrible secret they must share. He has the power to save, but he shouldn’t. Not if it costs them everything.
But still. Family should be the only exception, Michael included. Of this, Isobel is certain.
Chapter Management
Chapter 6: +1 The Desert
Isobel takes a deep breath, and opens the door of Michael’s truck.
It had been years since Max killed that man for Isobel. She hadn’t been this far out into the desert since then. She can never be sure who or what is out there, waiting for someone to come along. Even having powers is not enough to keep herself safe. The vast flat land all around her reminds her just how fragile she really is.
Except there are things she misses about the New Mexican desert, like how freeing it felt to be so alone, with just her brothers and the stars for company. Max and Michael both love looking at the stars, and she misses going with them. She loves looking at the night sky, too. Before the night of the attack, the desert felt like she was a little closer to home. Or at least, a little closer to understanding some fundamental truth about herself. She considered it to be the place where she had been born. Sometimes it still called to her.
She made a new year’s resolution not to be so afraid anymore, and this is her making good on her promise to herself. It wasn’t the dirt, or the cactuses, or the rocks that hurt her, after all. She wants to reclaim the wonder of it.
As she swings her legs down out of the truck and her boots crunch against the sandy desert floor, she feels calm. She can do this.
Max and Michael are standing outside the passenger’s door, looking at her with tepid smiles.
“Stop. I’m fine.” Isobel waves off their concern.
She sees the look Michael shoots Max, as if he is unconvinced. They both raise their eyebrows but say nothing.
Michael walks over to drop open the tailgate and turns around to lift himself up butt-first. Then he reaches around and spreads out the blanket he’d brought in the bed of the truck.
“Michael, I’m glad you bought this truck,” Isobel says as she pulls herself up into the truck. “This is basically luxury compared to that freakin’ tent from back in the day.”
They both huff in agreement as Max climbs up behind her. Isobel settles down on the blanket, her back against the wheel well. Max sits across from her.
“And might I remind Maxwell who got their license first,” Michael crows from his spot against the rear window. “I beat him at something. Finally!”
Max groans. “Oh c’mon Michael, there’s plenty you do better than me.”
“Fighting, for one,” Michael immediately says.
Isobel senses their hackles rising. Max is about to say some jab about how fighting is not a skill, and Michael is about to get in his own terse passive-aggressive retort, and they could be at each other’s throats in no time. That’s not how Isobel wants the night to go.
“Let’s just open the one beer we managed to steal from Dad, and look at the stars like we planned.”
“Good idea,” Michael agrees gruffly. He gets the beer out of the cooler and pops the top with his telekinesis.
“Maybe we should have stolen the whiskey out of the liquor cabinet instead,” Max muses as Michael passes him the beer.
“He definitely would have noticed that,” Isobel chides.
That makes both Michael and Max laugh.
“You’re probably right about that,” Max says. He takes a swig, and Isobel catches the way his face scrunches up at the bitter taste. Then he passes it to Isobel.
She feels the cool condensation against her palm, and then puts the bottle against her lips before she thinks better of it. It’s not her first beer, but she’s not about to tell Max that. She’s been to a few parties that Max flat-out refused to go to. She secretly liked flying solo, but if she tells Max there had been booze at the parties, he would start going to be her bodyguard or something.
So she dutifully makes a sour face and a disgusted sound after she takes a sip, and is rewarded when Max and Michael laugh. She cheerfully hands it off to Michael, feeling pretty smug. This secret, at least, is a silly one. She doesn’t have to feel guilty about it.
She leans back on her palms and takes in the vast desert around her. It’s so dark that she can’t tell how big it is, but it’s better that way. She doesn’t let her imagination fill in the gaps. It’s just there. Out of sight, out of mind.
Then she looks up at the sky. There’s so little light pollution that she can clearly see twinkling yellow lights spread out above her. She wonders if the planet she came from is looking down at her now, watching.
The life out there that so many people long to know about - she already knows it exists. That’s something special, even if she doesn’t always like being an alien. The stars manage to remind her that she’s a part of something no ordinary human could ever understand.
Maybe the aliens check up on the three of them every now and again, to make sure they’re safe.
The thought doesn’t make her long for another life, though. She likes the one she has, with Max and Michael and her mom and dad. She glances over at them, currently teasing each other about how small their sips have been.
She smiles. Yeah, she can live with this.
Pairing: Isobel & Michael & Max
Rated: Teen
Word Count: 4,524
Summary: Growing up, Isobel never wanted to embrace being an alien. But there are moments when she can't deny who she is.
A/N: I finished this after editing/combining a few smaller comment fics that I wrote for
scintilla10 and some Tumblr prompts.Fic on AO3
Chapter 1: Elementary School
Isobel knows that Michael is feeling extremely nervous, but he’s trying not to let it show as he walks a little behind Isobel and Max, pushing his bicycle. Today is the day he’s going to meet their mom for the first time, and Isobel really wants it to go well.
Isobel hates that Michael has to live separate from them, and she hates how lonely he looks sometimes. She really wants to prove to him he’s not so alien after all. So Isobel and Max have both carefully planned out the whole day for him. They waited for an early-release school day, because they knew their dad would still be at work. Max had shoved one of the polo shirts he’d outgrown into his backpack so that Michael could change at school before they left. He acted like he didn’t want to change, but Isobel’s insistence wins him over. At least his jeans passed her inspection, since he hadn’t been working at the junkyard that day.
Just before they round the corner to their house, Max and Isobel stop and give Michael a once-over. Isobel declares him ready, and Michael smiles cautiously and gives her a thumbs up as he ditches his bike on the curb.
“She’s going to love you,” Isobel says with a gentle hand on his arm.
Then she marches up the front steps and pushes open the unlocked front door. She doesn’t turn around, confident that Michael is going to follow her.
Max shouts, “Hey Mom, we’re home!”
“Is your friend here?” She calls back.
Their mom emerges from the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist, and her hair in a sharp updo without one hair out of place.
“Yes Momma, this is Michael!” Isobel gestures towards Michael.
Max elbows him lightly in the ribs and clears his throat. Michael is supposed to say something. Something they’d practiced several times that day. Isobel holds her breath.
“Hello Ma’am, nice to meet you.”
“I hope you’re staying for dinner,” she says with a smile. It seems genuine.
Isobel breathes a sigh of relief. She knows how important first impressions are, but things are going well so far.
“I don’t know, Ma’am. I have to get back home soon.” Michael says the lines they’d rehearsed earlier, so that he has an excuse to leave.
“Oh alright, well it’s lovely to meet you.”
Isobel sees Michael takes a deep breath. Isobel wraps her arm around his elbow, and he’s promptly marched up the stairs to their room. They’re mostly left to their own devices for an hour. Max shows Michael his book collection, and then Isobel busts out a bunch of CDs for Michael to pick from.The CDs seem completely foreign to him but he picks one anyway, and they blast music on Isobel’s hot pink boombox.
Mom brings them all lemonade and cookies. He thanks her profusely, which they hadn’t practiced. This makes Isobel think maybe Michael has never had fresh-baked cookies before.
After he eats his cookie, Michael says, “This is so much better than sneaking into Max’s window.”
Isobel almost asks why, but then she doesn’t. Michael has already been so vulnerable with them. She can tell by how uncharacteristically soft-spoken and shy he’s being. She doesn’t want to do anything to make this situation seem weird or out of place. She wants Michael to feel welcome at their house always.
Later, after he says he has to leave, he walks over to Max’s window and pushes it up like he’s about to climb out.
“You can go out the front door, remember?” Max says.
Michael starts to laugh at himself for the silly mistake, but he catches the sad tilt of Max’s mouth. Isobel looks between them, worried that things might get awkward.
“You’re right,” Michael says, smiling. “I feel so normal here.”
She and Max beam at him. That’s all Isobel wanted for Michael today. Then Michael heads down the stairs to say goodbye to their mom.
“You’re always welcome back, Michael,” Ann says, and then presses a baggie of cookies into his hand. Michael looks both surprised and delighted as he clutches the bag to his chest.
He waves to all three of them as he walks back out to his bike. Isobel rushes upstairs to watch him leave from her bedroom window. He still looks happy, which is a relief.
Chapter 2: Halloween
Isobel is in her room, sitting cross-legged on her bed with her algebra textbook open when she hears a strange rattling sound coming from outside her second story window. It only lasts a few seconds, so she turns back to her homework. She chews on her pencil eraser and tries to find her focus again. Math isn’t exactly her favorite subject but she’s definitely not going to let Max get a better grade than her on the exam.
Then, there’s a louder sound, almost like a knock. She jumps. It’s probably just the wind or something, but she unfolds her legs and gets up from her bed to check anyway.
She sees a branch shaking, its sparse leaves dancing outside her window. It must have hit her window or the wall, that’s all. She huffs a laugh and climbs back onto her bed.
October is always a strange time of year in Roswell. The darkness comes on quicker, there's a chill in the air, and people start acting real weird. Not to mention there are always a ton of people dressed like little green aliens running around town. Isobel is occasionally amused by how ridiculously off-based their assumptions about aliens are, but more often than not she's supremely annoyed. The stupid costumes always remind her of how un-human she actually is. Maybe the paranoia of being discovered has her feeling a tad bit on-edge.
Just as she’s about to reach for her TI-84 calculator, there’s a crash against her window. This time she’s so startled her book and her pencil go tumbling off the bed. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up and goosebumps break out on her arms.
“What the hell?” She says as she gets up again. She gathers her courage, and her sharpest pencil, and slowly walks towards the window.
This time when she looks out, she notices Michael’s mop of curly dark hair. She hurriedly unlatches the latch and pushes the window open.
“What are you doing?” She hisses. She thought he'd outgrown breaking into their house. He'd been through the front door several times before. "Sneaking around my window is not normal human behavior."
“Why are you holding a pencil up?” Michael asks instead of answering. He’s perched on the end of a branch. It’s sagging almost below her window and it looks awfully precarious. She has no idea how long he’ll be able to stay like that.
“I was ready to stab you, you idiot!”
“Halloween must have Izzy on edge,” Michael teases.
Isobel rolls her eyes. “Shut up and get in before you fall.”
Michael ungracefully grabs her window sill and pulls himself inside. Isobel ditches her pencil on her desk and then turns and puts a hand on her hip.
“Okay, so why are you here?”
“Max is not home,” Michael says as he scuffs his boot against the carpet.
“Yeah, he has science club.” With LIz Ortecho, Isobel doesn’t need to add. They both are very aware of Max’s ridiculous crush.
“Well, is it cool if I hang out here?”
Isobel raises an eyebrow, about to say she’s got way too much homework to ‘hang out.’ But she knows how often he hangs out in Max’s room, and it’s not because they’re partying. Max is way too much of a square for that. She’s heard some very vague but generally horrible things from Max about Michael’s foster Dad. Maybe Michael just doesn’t want to go home.
So she nods instead.
“Yeah, sure. Maybe you can help with algebra?”
Michael grins. “Oh, for sure.”
Isobel clears the stack of books from her desk chair so that Michael can sit. She’s not going to admit it, but she’s actually grateful for the company. At least if there are any more spooky sounds, she won’t be alone.
Chapter 3: Homecoming
“Max, I really need you to keep stirring this,” Isobel says as soon as Max steps into the kitchen.
Max dutifully steps up to the chili pot on the stove and takes the wooden spoon from her.
“Fine,” he grumbles. “But is this sweater alright? I don’t want to look like a nerd today.”
There’s no way she’s going to pass up on an opportunity to tease her brother.
“Doesn’t matter what sweater you wear. You’ll still look like a nerd.”
“Ha. Thanks a lot.” Max rolls his eyes and pouts over the chili pot.
Isobel leaves him to it and heads over to the counter to finish up the alien shaped cookies she baked the night before. It’s the day of New Roswell High’s homecoming, and Isobel had volunteered to contribute to the chili cook off and the bake sale, which is why she’s frantically cooking before school starts.
As she squeezes green frosting out of a tube, she goes over the plan for the day in her head. She’s playing in the powder puff game that afternoon before the football game starts, which is after the float parade. After all of that is the dance, which means she is going to have to bring her dress and change at some point after powder puff in the locker room.
She wonders what Max has planned for the day. He’s usually not the kind of guy who likes attending school spirit stuff.
“So, you got a date tonight for the dance?” Isobel asks, her voice teasing.
“You sound like Mom,” Max grumbles.
“Ouch,” Isobel intones as she focuses on switching frosting tubes and adding little eyes to the cookies.
“Why are you doing all this, Iz? It seems like way too much.”
It is probably too much, but she wants it that way. If she’s involved in every homecoming event, she can prove to herself that she’s succeeding at pretending to be human. No one would ever suspect she’s anything other than an over-achieving American high-schooler.
“I like being busy,” she settles on. “And your sweater looks great.”
She’s being sincere, and she looks up to see Max’s shoulders relax a fraction.
“Thanks,” he says.
They work in silence for a beat, and then Max speaks up again.
“Liz is coming to homecoming. She texted me about it earlier.”
Isobel can tell that Max is trying very hard to sound nonchalant as he turns slightly to look at her. She purposefully doesn’t laugh, even though his earlier question about his sweater makes way more sense now.
“Well, she’ll need to hang out with someone in the stands during the game. That’s where you come in,” Isobel says as she points a frosting tube at Max.
He narrows his eyes at her. “Maybe, but I’m sure she’s going to be there with Rosa.”
Max’s eyebrow is raised, as if waiting for Isobel to say something. Isobel is quiet at first, biting at her bottom lip in thought. There’s something about Rosa that tangles up her guts and makes her feel off balance. She wouldn’t call them friends, but they’ve hung out way more than just casual acquaintances would. That’s probably why Max is looking at her, hoping she’ll offer to get involved so that Max isn’t third-wheeling.
“I could probably hang out with Rosa,” she finally says.
Max grins like a total dope and puts his arms out like he’s going to hug her. She shakes her head.
“Absolutely no PDA. Keep stirring!”
Max laughs and turns back to the pot.
Isobel looks her cookies over, and lets the pleasant tingle of satisfaction from a job well done take her mind off of Rosa Ortecho. She’s way too busy today to lose her focus.
Chapter 4: The Airstream
“So this is the room where it happens?” Isobel says with her arms out wide, teasing.
“Ha, you’re hilarious,” Michael deadpans.
He turns his attention to the table in front of him with some kind of power tool in his hand, but Isobel is too intrigued by the scenery to watch what he’s doing.
When Michael said he wanted to show Isobel something, she’d never expected him to have an entire bunker hidden underneath his brand new airstream. Or at least, it's new to him. He finally had something to call his own, and Isobel is infinitely proud of him.
But the strangeness of the hidden bunker isn't lost on Isobel. Once she’d descended down the narrow metal staircase, she found the space to be brimming with interesting odds and ends. There are jars with brightly colored liquids stacked along a shelf, and massive bundles of wire. Not to mention all kinds of electronics with their backs off and their guts spilling out all over the huge metal table in the center.
What’s most interesting are the glowing pink and purple pieces of glass that are resting on a small shelf off to the right. As she approaches them, the light shifts even more and the glowing intensifies. It sure feels like the glass is reacting to her presence.
“You feel it too?” Michael says as he comes up behind Isobel.
Isobel nods. “What are they?”
“Alien. At least I think. There’s no substance I can find on Earth that’s like it.”
Isobel can’t help the gasp that escapes her as she reaches out to touch. The colors swirl and dart away from her finger, but when she removes her hand the colors coalesce again. There's a sinking feeling in her gut now. This glass is definitely alien, and a stark reminder of how different they are. She kind of hates that Michael showed her this. Now she knows he has contraband, another secret that she has to keep.
“I wanted you to see them. Even though I haven’t figured out much yet,” Michael continues.
“What about Max?” Isobel says, reaching out to touch the glass again.
“I wasn’t sure he’d be interested.”
Isobel turns sharply to look at him, a rebuke already on the tip of her tongue, but Michael’s brow is furrowed like he’s worried. His expression gives her pause. Michael looks down at his boot, seemingly withering away from Isobel’s look, and scuffs it against the pavement.
“But I’ll show him, too,” He quickly adds. “He had work today.”
Isobel nods, satisfied that at least she can share this burden with Max. If the glass is really alien, Max needs to know too. All three of them are in this together, no matter what kind of petty fight Max and Michael are in at the moment.
"The glass is beautiful," she admits.
She catches Michael's triumphant grin before he turns back to his work table. It’s obvious that he’s in his element here. Plus it actually feels way more lived in than most of the rooms he’s stayed in in the past. She watches him for a little while, comforted by the fact that the alien glass doesn't try to kill them or start levitating or something. She can keep Michael's secrets. She's gotten good at that over the years.
“Thank you, Michael. For sharing this with me.” She gestures at the entire space, not just the glass.
Michael gently bumps his knuckles against her shoulder and smiles.
Isobel knows it's hard for Michael to be open with anyone, and she sure doesn’t fault him for that. But she’s grateful for how close they've grown lately.
Chapter 5: The Hospital Parking Lot
The tires of the jeep squeal to a halt in the Roswell Community Medical parking lot. Max reaches for his door before he even puts it in park.
“Wait, Max.” Isobel throws out her arm to stop him from getting out, and he leans back in his seat.
She hates the way her voice shakes. She blows out a breath, puts down her arm, and silently tells herself to get a grip.
When Isobel looks up, Max is staring at her with an eyebrow raised.
“Iz." He sounds annoyed. "What? We have to go in there -”
“Not before we talk about this. I mean, what if Mom is really sick?”
“We don’t know that yet. All we know is that she went to the Emergency Room, and they admitted her. Dad said they don’t even have a diagnosis yet.”
Isobel shakes her head and crosses her arms.
“I know what Dad said. But he might not be telling us everything,” she says, squinting at him like this point should have been obvious already.
Max gestures out his window. “Okay, but the only way to find out is if we go inside.”
“You’re not getting it, Max.” Isobel drops her voice before she continues. “I think we should make a plan. If this is serious.”
Max huffs. “What does that mean? What plan? We aren’t doctors.”
Isobel throws up her hands in a way that she hopes clearly conveys how stupid she thinks he’s still being.
“Are you fucking serious right now? You can heal people with your hands, Max,” she hisses.
Max’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. It must not have occurred to him that he could use his powers. She could laugh, considering it was the first thing she thought of when her Dad called her and told her to come to the hospital. It had been on her mind the entire anxious wait in the high school parking lot as she paced up and down on the unseasonably hot pavement. When Max finally arrived from god knows where to pick her up in his jeep, they hadn’t said a word to each other. But Isobel had been thinking about it then, too. She figured Max would have been, too.
“We aren’t there yet. Mom is going to be fine.” Max’s voice goes uncharacteristically high at the end. He clenches his hands on his steering wheel.
“You don’t know that,” Isobel says through gritted teeth. She thinks this is the moment where they need to be absolutely honest about how different they are from humans, and how far they’d go for their family. Isobel thinks talking about this is just being realistic. She’s never been a true optimist, anyway.
“I know I said before that we should do everything to protect our secret. But she’s the exception. Look, I’ll figure out a way to cover for you. A diversion or something.”
Max glances over at her, his eyes wet at the corners. She can hear how shallow he’s breathing.
“I don’t know if I agree.”
The words hit Isobel like a punch to the gut. She gasps. It’s almost incomprehensible to her that Max would be the one to refuse to do this. Saving their mom is the right thing to do, damn the consequences.
Max is usually all about that kind of morality.
“She’s the one who saved us, Max. She’s the one who gave us a home when we thought we’d never fit in. You can’t be serious right now.”
“I’m not saying I won’t do it,” Max hisses. “I’m just saying we should think about this a little more.”
Isobel sighs and leans back against the passenger seat.
“Okay, fine. I guess I’m just… I’m worried we won’t have time to talk in there. Like what if they’re wheeling her into surgery or something? God this fucking sucks.”
Isobel runs her fingers through her hair and feels tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She refuses to look over at Max. She knows she shouldn’t be angry at him, not when he hasn’t even made a decision. But it sort of feels like he has.
She hears him exhale, and then he puts his arm around her. She doesn’t move away, even though that’s her first impulse. She can feel his fear now that he’s so close, rolling down his skin like invisible beads of sweat. At least he’s not angry at her.
“I’m scared too, Max. I shouldn’t have… we should go see her first.”
Max hugs her tighter before he lets her go.
“Iz, I trust you. I just hope we don’t have to make any decisions like that today.”
When Max starts being the more logical one, Isobel knows she needs to real herself back in. Maybe she was panicking just a little. At least he had said we. That's probably a good sign.
Her lashes feel wet, so she flips down the visor to check her make up in the mirror as she says, “Yeah, okay. One step at a time.”
“Let’s go,” Max says as he opens the door. She lets him get out this time.
---
It turns out that no one needs to expose their alien powers. Ann Evans just has an ordinary human infection, treatable with ordinary human antibiotics.
Isobel is relieved and delighted, and that mollifies her temporarily. But later, when she’s home and laying on her bed thinking about human mortality, she can’t believe she’s never given Max’s extraordinary God-like ability more thought until now. She wants to know where the line is when it comes to saving people, and why he didn’t want to cross it for their adopted mother. Would he even cross it for her?
She supposes it’s better this way, not knowing what Max would do. Even though it’s technically Max’s burden to bear and not hers, it feels like another terrible secret they must share. He has the power to save, but he shouldn’t. Not if it costs them everything.
But still. Family should be the only exception, Michael included. Of this, Isobel is certain.
Chapter Management
Chapter 6: +1 The Desert
Isobel takes a deep breath, and opens the door of Michael’s truck.
It had been years since Max killed that man for Isobel. She hadn’t been this far out into the desert since then. She can never be sure who or what is out there, waiting for someone to come along. Even having powers is not enough to keep herself safe. The vast flat land all around her reminds her just how fragile she really is.
Except there are things she misses about the New Mexican desert, like how freeing it felt to be so alone, with just her brothers and the stars for company. Max and Michael both love looking at the stars, and she misses going with them. She loves looking at the night sky, too. Before the night of the attack, the desert felt like she was a little closer to home. Or at least, a little closer to understanding some fundamental truth about herself. She considered it to be the place where she had been born. Sometimes it still called to her.
She made a new year’s resolution not to be so afraid anymore, and this is her making good on her promise to herself. It wasn’t the dirt, or the cactuses, or the rocks that hurt her, after all. She wants to reclaim the wonder of it.
As she swings her legs down out of the truck and her boots crunch against the sandy desert floor, she feels calm. She can do this.
Max and Michael are standing outside the passenger’s door, looking at her with tepid smiles.
“Stop. I’m fine.” Isobel waves off their concern.
She sees the look Michael shoots Max, as if he is unconvinced. They both raise their eyebrows but say nothing.
Michael walks over to drop open the tailgate and turns around to lift himself up butt-first. Then he reaches around and spreads out the blanket he’d brought in the bed of the truck.
“Michael, I’m glad you bought this truck,” Isobel says as she pulls herself up into the truck. “This is basically luxury compared to that freakin’ tent from back in the day.”
They both huff in agreement as Max climbs up behind her. Isobel settles down on the blanket, her back against the wheel well. Max sits across from her.
“And might I remind Maxwell who got their license first,” Michael crows from his spot against the rear window. “I beat him at something. Finally!”
Max groans. “Oh c’mon Michael, there’s plenty you do better than me.”
“Fighting, for one,” Michael immediately says.
Isobel senses their hackles rising. Max is about to say some jab about how fighting is not a skill, and Michael is about to get in his own terse passive-aggressive retort, and they could be at each other’s throats in no time. That’s not how Isobel wants the night to go.
“Let’s just open the one beer we managed to steal from Dad, and look at the stars like we planned.”
“Good idea,” Michael agrees gruffly. He gets the beer out of the cooler and pops the top with his telekinesis.
“Maybe we should have stolen the whiskey out of the liquor cabinet instead,” Max muses as Michael passes him the beer.
“He definitely would have noticed that,” Isobel chides.
That makes both Michael and Max laugh.
“You’re probably right about that,” Max says. He takes a swig, and Isobel catches the way his face scrunches up at the bitter taste. Then he passes it to Isobel.
She feels the cool condensation against her palm, and then puts the bottle against her lips before she thinks better of it. It’s not her first beer, but she’s not about to tell Max that. She’s been to a few parties that Max flat-out refused to go to. She secretly liked flying solo, but if she tells Max there had been booze at the parties, he would start going to be her bodyguard or something.
So she dutifully makes a sour face and a disgusted sound after she takes a sip, and is rewarded when Max and Michael laugh. She cheerfully hands it off to Michael, feeling pretty smug. This secret, at least, is a silly one. She doesn’t have to feel guilty about it.
She leans back on her palms and takes in the vast desert around her. It’s so dark that she can’t tell how big it is, but it’s better that way. She doesn’t let her imagination fill in the gaps. It’s just there. Out of sight, out of mind.
Then she looks up at the sky. There’s so little light pollution that she can clearly see twinkling yellow lights spread out above her. She wonders if the planet she came from is looking down at her now, watching.
The life out there that so many people long to know about - she already knows it exists. That’s something special, even if she doesn’t always like being an alien. The stars manage to remind her that she’s a part of something no ordinary human could ever understand.
Maybe the aliens check up on the three of them every now and again, to make sure they’re safe.
The thought doesn’t make her long for another life, though. She likes the one she has, with Max and Michael and her mom and dad. She glances over at them, currently teasing each other about how small their sips have been.
She smiles. Yeah, she can live with this.
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Date: 2025-09-23 12:13 am (UTC)