Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies. The characters are not mine; they belong to the creators of the Roswell series. I am simply telling a story I had dreamed that involved the show. Spoilers/Summary: This is completely AU, and CC all the way. I never liked Tess, and I really debated on putting her in here, but than Kyle wouldn't have someone and.well you'll see. So happy reading! AN: Please send feedback! I've never written anything about Roswell before, so if you could just drop me a line or two, that would be awesome!! Rating: Right now, I'm going to say PG-13, but I KNOW that's it's going to change in the future. If you want to keep it at a lower level just email me, and ask for a 'cleaner' version

They had matching eyes. There was blue, hazel, brown, and green. They hadn't really noticed anything later, until some one had finally mentioned it to them, but that was much later in the story, where all the problems started, or perhaps where all the answers were answered. It's just like that old saying: 'is the glass half empty or half full?'

When they were children they had been inseparable. They had all met when they were in 4th grade and were made to sit next to each other. That's where our story begins.


Her hair was blonde, and definitely curly. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls that were at the store that he could never afford. She was pale and her green eyes were hidden behind closed lids. She was beautiful. Why was she so sick? Why couldn't she be better, and I could just pull one of her curls, and she would start to argue with me, just like usual. Why did she have to get so sick?? Her skin was cold to the touch, and he knew the difference between her usual vibrancy, and this sickly pallor.

He had been wondering the streets of Roswell on a nice summer day, just trying to get a feel for the weather, or at least that's what he told people if they asked. Not that anyone did. He had just been transferred here in September. It had been his first day of third grade. It had been the day when one of the locals had made fun of him on the playground, and called him stupid that he had gotten into his first fight. He had had bruises from that fight, and because, every now and then he came to school with others, many assumed that he was a trouble maker, and had just gotten into other fights.with children. They had never guessed that he had fought, but with his foster father, Hank.

Hank was a greasy haired drunk that lived in a run down house on the edge of town. It was just in walking distance of the Elementary, and Michael liked it that way. He didn't have to ride the bus to school, and talk to those other kids. But Hank drank a lot in front of the TV when he got home from the Cheese Factory. He was strong, and whenever Michael said anything when Hank was in his drunken stupor he would be punished for it. Michael was always covered in bruises, but made sure to hide it. He never wanted anyone to notice, and he thought no one had, but that changed when he was walking down the street that summer, and found a pixie girl silently walking next to him.

"What do you want?" Michael asked.

"Oh, hi! Sorry didn't notice you were there. I was just trying to get a feel for the weather," replied a young blond haired girl who looked to be about six.

Did she just say that she was just trying to get a feel for the weather? That was definitely a cover. Why would anyone ever use that excuse, oh yeah I used that..a coincidence? The young girl started to laugh out loud. He hadn't said anything, and neither had she. Why was she laughing?? Michael was about to say something, when suddenly she spoke first. "So, what's your name?" the young girl asked.

"Michael." Was his short, and to the point reply.

"I'm Maria." After a moments hesitation she followed with: "I'm proud of you." Maria smiled and walked off in another direction. But not before she had touched his cheek where a faint bruise from the two days before, remained. That had been the last he had seen her that summer, and he was completely wierded out by her. What did she mean she was proud of him? Why had she touched him like that? Why had she laughed for no reason?

The summer passed, and September arrived.


Hank had been laid off the day before, and had been drinking all night. Michael hadn't wanted to stick around where he would most likely get the blunt end of the night's activities. So, he had arrived at school earlier than any of the early morning walkers. He walked into his new classroom, and met his new teacher, who from the very start seemed to have it out for him. Perhaps it was his messy and spiked hair. Perhaps it was the bruises on his arm from the week before. Maybe it was even the fact that he hadn't a backpack, or any school supplies he would need for the year. It could've even been the fact that he needed new shoes or the fact that his clothes were on the shabby (but clean) side. No one understood him, and even fewer had ever wanted to know him.

She had simply given him a look and pointed him to a desk in the back of the classroom. Silently he sat down and waited for the rest of the class to come in. The door opened, and he was assaulted with the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. It was that girl that he had met during summer. It was that same girl, but why didn't he remember how beautiful she was? He stared at her for a few moments, until he pretended that the desk was suddenly more interesting. A few moments later she sat down next to him, to his complete and utter surprise.

He could feel her stare, and unable to take it any longer he looked up into her eyes, and instead found green orbs in their place. They were absolutely fascinating, and he was unable to tear his eyes from hers.

She spoke first. "I knew you would be here. I could feel it." A moment later she spoke again. "You don't remember do you? You don't feel it?" asked Maria.

"I know you from somewhere, but I just can't figure out." Michael and Maria had been in their own little world, and hadn't noticed that there were others coming into the room. They had simply kept their attention on each other, and that's why it became a shock to hear the teacher interrupt Michael and call class to order.

There were two children in front of them, and what struck Michael about them, was the fact that on the left was a boy with dark hair (which was all he could make out considering he was looking at him from the back) and a blue tee-shirt. The odd thing about it though, was that there was a girl sitting next to him, and she too had the same dark hair. But her hair was long, and completely straight. In front of them were yet another boy on the right hand side, and a girl on the left. She had pretty blonde hair (although not as pretty as Maria's) and the boy had dark brown color like the boy in front of him. What struck him, and the rest of the class as odd, was the fact that they were in the middle of the class room and every row (there were four, but no one wanted to sit in the front) had boy, girl.

Now, perhaps you don't remember what exactly it was like it in fourth grade, or perhaps it was only at Roswell Elementary that boys sat on the left hand side of the class with all of their friends and girls sat on the right hand side of the class room, and talked behind their hands about the boys on the other side of the room. Right from the beginning the six knew that they would be defying the standards. No one said it aloud, but from the very beginning everyone knew.


They had all become the best of friends: Max and Liz, and then Alex and Isabel, and then eventually Maria and Michael. Each set was the best friends. Wherever one went, the other was sure to follow. The six hadn't been friends. They were just other kids that sat in front of him and Maria's places in class. Occasionally they talked, and whenever Maria and Michael started to argue, it was generally, and silently, agreed upon that Max and Alex would take Michael's side (unless they received a very nasty kick from under their desks from Maria) and Isabel was on Maria's side. Liz was always the deciding factor. She was their peacekeeper. If a fight lasted longer than ten minutes she would get both of them upset with her, so they would start talking again; even if it was to get her back somehow, although they never did.

One day Michael had come to school with a particularly nasty cut on his forehead and a bruise on his arm. His shirt was slightly ripped, and it looked like he himself had repaired it many times. He was embarrassed to look like that in front of Maria, but she never said anything, and acted the same as always. When he had come in, just before the bell, she had given him a look, and hardly spoke (for Maria anyway) for the rest of the day. When it was time to leave, he felt himself being tapped on the shoulder.

"What do ya want 'Ria?" Michael asked. He really wasn't in a hurry. He walked home, and he wasn't in a hurry to meet Hank. Especially after the way he had ran to school this morning, but not after he had had a beer bottle thrown at him (which had left him with the cut on his head) and a few bruises.

"I need your help with Math. I don't understand those times tables' fractions thingies. Do ya think you could help me with it?" asked Maria. "You could get on the bus with me, and come to my house. My mum's at the shop (her mother owned her own little alien themed merchandise store downtown) and you could help me with that and the homework we have. And we have that test on it tomorrow.." gushed Maria.

"I dunno 'Ria.."

"Please?? With sugar, and Cherries on top? " But before Michael could answer the busses that were a few feet away from them started to leave. It was a long walk to Maria's house from the school. She was getting on that bus, and Michael was getting on it with her. She grabbed his hand in hers and she took off catching up to the busses.

The driver saw them and slowed down to meet the breathless children who were scrambling to get aboard. She pulled to the side, and stopped, and let the kids get on and take a seat. There weren't many kids on the bus, but as the class room had been divided boy, girl, so was the bus. They sat in the closest unoccupied seat, and sat down together. Maria was holding his hand, and hadn't let go. Michael hadn't let go either.

Maria's stop came and when the driver opened the doors to let them out, she looked in the mirror to see the blond girl, and the messy haired kid, who had gotten on with her were arguing. The driver had never heard the little girl even speak let alone argue. He cheeks were red, and she was shaking in anger. The boy had a smirk on his face, and above his head he was holding a very sparkly and very fluffy purple pencil. Everyone on the bus was staring at the exchange that was taking place in front of them, unbeknownst to them of course.

"Are you two going to get off, or what?" asked Doris, the driver. Immediately the two squabbling kids shushed up, and promptly strode up the isle of the bus. The spiky hair boy gave her pencil and without a word she stuck it in her backpack. When they reached her seat Doris asked: "Are you gonna be riding this bus here on out?" She directed the question to Michael, but Maria answered. "Yeah, he got transferred on this one this morning, but he missed it, and got a ride to school. He lives down the street from me, so he's gonna get off here too." With that Maria flashed Michael a warning glance that didn't go unnoticed by Doris, and she tugged him off the bus with her.

Once they were off the bus Michael didn't know what to do. "Why'd you tell her that? I thought you wanted me to help you with your math?"

"Truthfully?" asked Maria.

"D'uh" was the only reply from Michael.

"I do need your help in math, but.. Michael.. I know. Before you say anything, let me finish. I know about Hank. I know what he does to you. I've been waiting for you to say something, but you haven't, and I'm not letting you get hurt again. So we're going to go to my house and talk about it before my mum gets home, and then we're going to work on our homework, have some dinner, and than talk to my mum about whatever plans we have by then. OK? Now let's go, my mum bought some Oreo's and Tabasco the other day and I'm hungry." With that Michael became apart of the family, or at least unofficially.

Michael had helped Maria with her fractions, ate some Tabasco doused Oreos, and had listened to Maria's plans for him concerning her mother. Maria had told them that her mother knew when people lied. "The best plan of action" she continued in her best military fashion was "to stick to the truth as much a possible, and just not mention parts of the story" Maria conveniently left out.

When Amy got home that evening it was to Maria making salad, and a boy about her daughter's age setting the table. Maria had never had friends come over to the house before, and she only ever really talked about a friend of hers named Michael, who she sat next to in school. "Maria, I'm home!" called out Amy. She was soon assaulted with tiny arms and blond curls flying at her.

"Mum, can Michael stay for dinner?" questioned Maria. "I made the salad, and he helped me with my math today, so do ya think he could stay and have some dinner with us? Please pretty pretty please??" begged Maria.

Amy took a close look at the brooding boy standing a foot away from her, who seemed to have an uncomfortable look on his face. Amy had strange eyes. One eye, her right, was a bright green and the other dark brown. Her short brown hair was in her face, but she brushed it back and said: "sure, why not the more the merrier. I was thinking of burgers, what do you think guys?"

"Yaay!!" was the joyous cry from Maria. She was babbling to Michael for five straight minutes, while Michael blinked solemnly at her. Amy smiled think that he was surely going to get lost, while listening to her daughter, but at the end of her tirade, she was shocked to find that he answered her apparent question as if it was normal for people to go around and say large amounts of things in one big breath. Amy liked him from the start.


As the weeks passed Michael stayed with Amy and Maria. Amy had always assumed that when Michael went home he stayed there, went to school, and then came home with Maria in the afternoon. Maria wouldn't hear of it.

Hank had moved out of the crusty old house to a creaky trailer. He didn't work anymore, and only received paychecks from the government for taking care of Michael. He spent his money on alcohol, and never noticed Michael unless he was busy hitting him. After that first day Hank had knocked Michael unconscious, and when he hadn't turned up at school Maria went over to the trailer, and found Michael beat up. She took him home and cleaned him up as best as she could. After that she wouldn't let him go back to the trailer, unless he was getting his clothes, but he didn't have much anyway, so she kept his stuff in a trunk in her closet.


A week ago, she had gotten sick. She looked dead almost, but she would wake up to go to the bathroom, and eat a little bit of soup and talk to Michael. Michael didn't go to school the week Maria was sick. He stayed with her the whole time, and helped her with whatever he could.

She was awake now. Her eye lids fluttered open and she looked up to find Michael sitting by her bedside running a hand through his hair. He had the loveliest green eyes, and his hair was always a mess, but he was so cute, and he was part of it.. part of the secret. All I can do is just stare at him, all the time. He probably thinks I am the biggest cheese head.

She is the biggest cheese head. "Hey."


"You look a little cold."

"You look a little tired," retorted Maria. "Did you get any sleep?"

"I'll go get you some covers," was his only reply. He came back with the covers, and threw them on top of her. Making sure she was completely covered.

"Come, lay down. You never get sick, you won't catch what I have, and you need to rest. We both know perfect well that you won't go to sleep on the floor or the couch but just pretend to," accused Maria.

"Are you going to go to sleep?" queried Michael.


"Fine, move over." Michael was tired, and the bed did look comfortable, and this way he could make sure that nothing happened to Maria, not that anything would, but he liked the thought that he was her protector. She did as he said, and they fell asleep together, her hand in hers, and that's when the dreams took over.


W hen they woke up, they knew. They knew each other's secrets; things inside of them that they themselves knew. Questions had been answered, but even more presented themselves, and they thought that they should get to know the other four who sat in front of them in class. For some strange reason, they both felt that these strangers could probably tell them more about themselves. Tell them answers to questions they didn't have yet.