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impala_chickHooray, I finished one of my fics for spook_me!
Title: Unable to Withstand Them
Fandom: Roswell New Mexico
Characters/Pairings: Max Evans, Dallas Haines, Pod squad
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 2,615
Warnings: Survival Horror
A/N: Written for thespook_me prompt Monster from Space, and the tumblr event RIP Roswell.
Summary: When Max gets to Oasis, Monsters have forced Oasians underground. He and Dallas join the fight for survival, but Max isn't sure how long he can hold on.
Fic on AO3 |
Max expects Oasis to be a beautiful place, filled with shimmery and beautiful hues of purple and pink and orange, just like the alien glass. But by the time he arrives, Oasis is barren and desolate, and most people are living underground. On the surface, Max comes across plants still green and healthy, but no other forms of life. All of the structures look collapsed or torn apart, and there’s a dead, gray haze that permeates everything. He wonders why the houses cannot repair themselves, when the pieces of glass that were on Earth seemed to easily seek each other out.
He thought he could come to Oasis and draw on the blue flame, reigniting the planet’s vitality and saving his people.
He’d been so naive.
---
Max can’t sleep. His heartbeat is racing, and his chest feels tight with anxiety and fear. He doesn’t know if it’s even worth his time to try and sleep. Even though Dallas promised to keep watch, and promised to alert Max at even the slightest sound, Max’s body will not let him relax.
He feels like a barely living corpse, his limbs lying heavy and stiff against the cot. His eyes are wide open and staring at the rock and mud ceiling of the cave, unable to focus on anything in particular. He’s grateful that someone was able to pull Dallas and himself underground before they were devoured, but he can’t stop picturing the monster in his mind.
He strains his ears, listening for anything strange. It seems like all is quiet, but he’s been tricked before. He’s got no idea how to defeat the thing that can lurk in any hallway and is waiting around every bend. It moves faster than any creature Max has ever seen. Its multiple limbs should encumber it and slow it down, but instead the creature can move all of its legs in perfect synchronicity. It’s agile, and able to reach into small spaces with its sharp metal feet. It stands taller than two people stacked on top of each other, and it’s smart enough to turn locks and open simple doors. The only thing that stops it are huge metal doors, barricaded with bars fortified by turquoise, but there are only so many of those.
Max can’t tell if it was born or created. He should be able to relate either way, but this monster cannot speak, as far as he can tell. It just stares with six horrible, dead-looking red orbs that are fixed along two vertical rows on its head. Even worse than its stare is its multiple rows of serrated teeth. It moves quietly, impossible to hear, until it starts clicking its teeth together. The noise is grating, like nails on a chalkboard, and Max constantly hears it in the back of his mind, even when it's not actually around. It’s got ugly gray spines that protrude from its back and its head like horns. They can move independently, and the creature knows how to swivel them all in one direction as if pointing at its prey. It is deeply unsettling to witness.
The Oasians call it the Ravager. They hope there's only one.
Max takes a few deep breaths. He inhales through his nose, counts to six, and then exhales through his mouth. He’s got to get some rest. His body can’t keep this up. The hyper-vigilance will give him a heart attack. He doesn’t need another one of those.
He closes his eyes, and keeps up his breath count. He thinks about sitting around his fire pit outside of his house, and tries to focus on a mundane fantasy of Isobel and Michael, sitting across from the fire and laughing. Then he pictures Liz reaching for his hand, and he watches her as she smiles.
He doesn’t wonder whether she’s still waiting for him on Earth. Right now, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that he can still picture her face perfectly. He eventually drifts off like that, content that no matter where he goes, he can keep Liz with him.
---
He already tried to use the blue flame against the Ravager.
He had stood on the surface of the planet, and gathered all of his strength. He’d called upon dark storm clouds and then he’d raised his arm, and caught lightning in his hand. He successfully directed his energy and his fury at the monster’s terrible red eyes and rectangular head.
The storm crackled as the smell of acrid smoke filled the air. The monster had been frozen, and its great legs trembled, and it even howled a unique high-pitched animalistic scream that convinces Max it isn't just a machine.
But then Max’s power had flagged. It was impossible to keep his hold on the monster. When blood trickled from his nose and he collapsed into a heap on the ground, the monster tried to come for him.
He doesn't remember much after that. He knows Dallas quickly dragged him back into an underground cave and slid the metal door closed.
His powers alone are not enough.
He desperately wishes for Isobel’s strength, and Michael’s resolve. He wishes for Liz too, a constant ache under his ribs. But there’s no way for him to reach them now. Max and Dallas only have each other.
---
Day after day goes by, but time loses all meaning. Max showers in the communal low-pressure showers that are fed by gravity, and washes his clothes in the communal wash bin. He keeps them stowed away in a cubby under the bed of a small room he shares with Dallas.
For a society once advanced enough to build spaceships and cross galaxies, it’s absolutely devastating to think of what’s been lost since the monsters began to take over the planet. There’s not even working electricity underground yet, although engineers are trying to come up with a work-around.
There are some excellent wax torches to light the way, at least. Max wonders what Michael would make of them. The wax itself seems to be made of stronger stuff, fortified with substances that aren’t found on Earth, and housed in Oasian glass cylinders. Max lights the wick, and then twists the lid closed. Somehow, oxygen permeates the glass and keeps the candle fed, but he can grip the candle holder without his hand getting too hot. The light shines at least 20 meters, just as good as a flashlight back on Earth. The candle will burn on its own for two whole days straight, but Max regularly blows his candle out to help it last longer.
Max tries not to worry about what will happen when they run out of wax. He just does the best he can with what some generous Oasians have given to him, and he forges ahead through the intricate system of underground tunnels, looking for Dallas.
Dallas is good at talking to people, and he’s good at listening, and those two skills are coming in handy. While Max goes out every day looking for jobs that require him to use his hands, Dallas goes looking for people who need spiritual help. Sometimes their searches overlap.
Max knows he can’t heal constantly. He still feels the psychic connection for days after he puts his hands on someone. He feels their fear, thick and heavy and terrible. He feels their pain and anguish as they try to scrounge food or comfort a loved one. It’s incredibly hard to be tethered to people here, under such deplorable conditions. It weighs him down, and sends him spiraling into depression.
So Max makes a rule. He will go above ground and scavenge food, he will aid the tunnel workers with digging new tunnels, he will do whatever else is asked of him. He will be as useful as he possibly can be.
But he will heal no more than one person per day.
Dallas told him to meet in tunnel block B-8. “B” means it’s on the second level, and “6” means the room is behind door 6. Max goes there often, because it’s been set up as a makeshift first aid station and hospital.
He makes his way down the dark, sloping hallway. There are tiles on the ground that keep his feet from getting muddy. Poles and wood bracers hold up the walls and ceiling. Max keeps his candle lit so that he doesn’t trip over a pole. Shadows bounce off the dirt walls. There are protruding rocks and even flecks of turquoise, but those are practically valueless here. Everyone is too preoccupied with survival to even consider mining beyond what they need to fortify the doors.
He holds out his glass candle holder once he reaches the B level, and heads down the narrow corridor. Down here, it smells strongly of petrichor, nearly identical to his natural smell. Max finds that calming.
The door to B-6 is already ajar, but he hesitates. When he meets new Oasians, some still stare at him with wide, terrified eyes, as if they recognize him from their nightmares. But most people simply treat him like any other Oasian. The dictator is a distant memory now that there is a much more immediate threat that no one is sure how to defeat. Max steals himself, hoping this particular family won’t recognize him.
When Max steps inside, Dallas is there standing next to the bed. There are four other Oasians there too, all standing around and looking down at the person laying in the bed.
It’s a small, frail boy. He might be a teenager, but it’s hard to tell.
“This is Davy,” Dallas says quietly. “He could use your help.”
The child flicks his gaze over to Max. His lips move, but if he speaks Max cannot hear him. He nods at Dallas and steps closer to the bed. He doesn’t ask any questions, and hands Dallas his candle. The boy’s family doesn’t react except to step away and give him room.
As Max touches the boy’s arm, Dallas holds out his empty hand to a woman with tears shining in her eyes.
“Let us pray,” he says.
The family members bow their heads, and Max takes a deep breath. Then the room fades away as Max grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut.
In flashes, he sees Davy as a young kid playing in a beautiful room illuminated by light. Then he sees Davy typing on a computer, and then sitting at a table laughing with three other people that don’t look like him. Then he sees the Ravager, charging towards Davy with gnashing teeth. The boy starts to scream right as Max feels the healing energy drain his body.
When he opens his eyes, Davy is smiling.
“Wow,” Davey breathes. Color is already returning to his cheeks. Max pulls his hand away, satisfied, as Davey’s family members crowd around the bed with tears shining in their eyes.
---
Max can hear the Ravager’s pointy metal legs clicking along the floor at incredible speed. It’s gaining on him, and he has no weapon that can stop it. He concentrates on throwing objects against it using his telekinesis. He passes fallen tree trunks and abandoned metal structures in a blur and tosses them with his mind, striking the Ravager as fast and as hard as he can. His foraging bag is still slung over his shoulder, and it hits his thigh as he runs, but he barely feels it.
He hears someone shouting his name from far off. It might be Dallas, but it doesn’t really matter because the tunnel entrance is still too far away. Max can’t outrun the Ravager.
It was always a risk coming to the surface to look for food, and Max had accepted that risk. Besides, he never imagined he would survive as long as he had already, when so many other Oasians had been killed. Maybe his time is finally up.
All Max knows is that he’s sick and tired of running.
He stops and abruptly turns around to face the monster. It cocks its head and skids to a halt. Its eyes don’t blink, they just stare, red and terrifying. The protruding metal spikes swivel to point at Max, and it begins to click its teeth.
Max concentrates so hard his head feels like it’s going to explode. He pictures the ravager’s limbs ripping from its body, and its spikes splintering off its back. He wills the Ravager to split along its visible seams, or for its rib cage to implode. He wishes like hell for the Ravager to snap its mouth closed and crumble into dust.
The ravager is stock-still and trembling. It screams its horrible cry, just like it did last time. Some shiny green liquid starts to leak from its midsection and viscous globs of the stuff plop onto the ground.
Then Max hears Isobel shout his name, and he figures he’s hallucinating. He doesn’t dare take his gaze off the ravager, doesn’t notice anything different except the blood that’s started to trickle out of his nose. But Isobel’s voice is there somewhere, asking him if he’s okay. He can’t help but smile, glad that at least if he’s going to die, Isobel is there with him.
It’s Michael who shouts next, as if he’s trying to get Max’s attention. Michael’s voice is like a jolt to the system, and Max looks in the direction of the sound.
He can Michael and Isobel, running towards him. Max nearly starts crying with relief, but he can’t. He has to keep a hold of the Ravager before it eats them both. Michael and Isobel stop when they reach him. Max can’t speak, afraid that his resolve will crumble if he does.
Luckily, the three of them don’t always need words. Max feels the burden lessen just a little bit. Michael and Isobel put their hands up, pushing at the ravager with their minds. They look fresh and healthy and ready to do battle, and Max thinks he’s never been more grateful for them than he is at that moment.
With Michael and Isobel at his side, he digs deep and finds another reserve from which to draw on. The three of them strain and grunt from their effort until the ravager does start to split at the seams, unable to withstand them. It shakes and screams as the metal bindings around its ribs start to unravel. There’s a great popping sound as pieces start to fly from it, first its spikes and then one of its front legs.
Max can’t feel his own body at all anymore, and his legs give out as he falls to the ground, but he holds on. The monster starts to collapse inward, and with one last screech its head crashes to the ground and the red lights of its eyes go out.
Max gasps and lets go of the monster, and a wave of pain and bodily awareness crashes over him, worse than anything he’s ever felt. His sides ache with phantom bruises, like someone had been striking him with iron fists. There’s a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, and his pulse is pounding in his ears. Good thing he’s already on his knees.
He should have known it would take three. Michael and Isobel crowd around him, hugging him. He sags against them, forcing his lungs to do the painful work of breathing.
“Is Liz -?” Max mumbles weakly.
“She’s fine. She’s coming,” Isobel says against his hair. “She found a way to open the portal.”
Max can’t focus on anything after that. He passes out in Michael and Isobel’s arms, no longer afraid for the first time in months.
spook_me!Title: Unable to Withstand Them
Fandom: Roswell New Mexico
Characters/Pairings: Max Evans, Dallas Haines, Pod squad
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 2,615
Warnings: Survival Horror
A/N: Written for the
spook_me prompt Monster from Space, and the tumblr event RIP Roswell.Summary: When Max gets to Oasis, Monsters have forced Oasians underground. He and Dallas join the fight for survival, but Max isn't sure how long he can hold on.
Fic on AO3 |
Max expects Oasis to be a beautiful place, filled with shimmery and beautiful hues of purple and pink and orange, just like the alien glass. But by the time he arrives, Oasis is barren and desolate, and most people are living underground. On the surface, Max comes across plants still green and healthy, but no other forms of life. All of the structures look collapsed or torn apart, and there’s a dead, gray haze that permeates everything. He wonders why the houses cannot repair themselves, when the pieces of glass that were on Earth seemed to easily seek each other out.
He thought he could come to Oasis and draw on the blue flame, reigniting the planet’s vitality and saving his people.
He’d been so naive.
Max can’t sleep. His heartbeat is racing, and his chest feels tight with anxiety and fear. He doesn’t know if it’s even worth his time to try and sleep. Even though Dallas promised to keep watch, and promised to alert Max at even the slightest sound, Max’s body will not let him relax.
He feels like a barely living corpse, his limbs lying heavy and stiff against the cot. His eyes are wide open and staring at the rock and mud ceiling of the cave, unable to focus on anything in particular. He’s grateful that someone was able to pull Dallas and himself underground before they were devoured, but he can’t stop picturing the monster in his mind.
He strains his ears, listening for anything strange. It seems like all is quiet, but he’s been tricked before. He’s got no idea how to defeat the thing that can lurk in any hallway and is waiting around every bend. It moves faster than any creature Max has ever seen. Its multiple limbs should encumber it and slow it down, but instead the creature can move all of its legs in perfect synchronicity. It’s agile, and able to reach into small spaces with its sharp metal feet. It stands taller than two people stacked on top of each other, and it’s smart enough to turn locks and open simple doors. The only thing that stops it are huge metal doors, barricaded with bars fortified by turquoise, but there are only so many of those.
Max can’t tell if it was born or created. He should be able to relate either way, but this monster cannot speak, as far as he can tell. It just stares with six horrible, dead-looking red orbs that are fixed along two vertical rows on its head. Even worse than its stare is its multiple rows of serrated teeth. It moves quietly, impossible to hear, until it starts clicking its teeth together. The noise is grating, like nails on a chalkboard, and Max constantly hears it in the back of his mind, even when it's not actually around. It’s got ugly gray spines that protrude from its back and its head like horns. They can move independently, and the creature knows how to swivel them all in one direction as if pointing at its prey. It is deeply unsettling to witness.
The Oasians call it the Ravager. They hope there's only one.
Max takes a few deep breaths. He inhales through his nose, counts to six, and then exhales through his mouth. He’s got to get some rest. His body can’t keep this up. The hyper-vigilance will give him a heart attack. He doesn’t need another one of those.
He closes his eyes, and keeps up his breath count. He thinks about sitting around his fire pit outside of his house, and tries to focus on a mundane fantasy of Isobel and Michael, sitting across from the fire and laughing. Then he pictures Liz reaching for his hand, and he watches her as she smiles.
He doesn’t wonder whether she’s still waiting for him on Earth. Right now, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that he can still picture her face perfectly. He eventually drifts off like that, content that no matter where he goes, he can keep Liz with him.
He already tried to use the blue flame against the Ravager.
He had stood on the surface of the planet, and gathered all of his strength. He’d called upon dark storm clouds and then he’d raised his arm, and caught lightning in his hand. He successfully directed his energy and his fury at the monster’s terrible red eyes and rectangular head.
The storm crackled as the smell of acrid smoke filled the air. The monster had been frozen, and its great legs trembled, and it even howled a unique high-pitched animalistic scream that convinces Max it isn't just a machine.
But then Max’s power had flagged. It was impossible to keep his hold on the monster. When blood trickled from his nose and he collapsed into a heap on the ground, the monster tried to come for him.
He doesn't remember much after that. He knows Dallas quickly dragged him back into an underground cave and slid the metal door closed.
His powers alone are not enough.
He desperately wishes for Isobel’s strength, and Michael’s resolve. He wishes for Liz too, a constant ache under his ribs. But there’s no way for him to reach them now. Max and Dallas only have each other.
Day after day goes by, but time loses all meaning. Max showers in the communal low-pressure showers that are fed by gravity, and washes his clothes in the communal wash bin. He keeps them stowed away in a cubby under the bed of a small room he shares with Dallas.
For a society once advanced enough to build spaceships and cross galaxies, it’s absolutely devastating to think of what’s been lost since the monsters began to take over the planet. There’s not even working electricity underground yet, although engineers are trying to come up with a work-around.
There are some excellent wax torches to light the way, at least. Max wonders what Michael would make of them. The wax itself seems to be made of stronger stuff, fortified with substances that aren’t found on Earth, and housed in Oasian glass cylinders. Max lights the wick, and then twists the lid closed. Somehow, oxygen permeates the glass and keeps the candle fed, but he can grip the candle holder without his hand getting too hot. The light shines at least 20 meters, just as good as a flashlight back on Earth. The candle will burn on its own for two whole days straight, but Max regularly blows his candle out to help it last longer.
Max tries not to worry about what will happen when they run out of wax. He just does the best he can with what some generous Oasians have given to him, and he forges ahead through the intricate system of underground tunnels, looking for Dallas.
Dallas is good at talking to people, and he’s good at listening, and those two skills are coming in handy. While Max goes out every day looking for jobs that require him to use his hands, Dallas goes looking for people who need spiritual help. Sometimes their searches overlap.
Max knows he can’t heal constantly. He still feels the psychic connection for days after he puts his hands on someone. He feels their fear, thick and heavy and terrible. He feels their pain and anguish as they try to scrounge food or comfort a loved one. It’s incredibly hard to be tethered to people here, under such deplorable conditions. It weighs him down, and sends him spiraling into depression.
So Max makes a rule. He will go above ground and scavenge food, he will aid the tunnel workers with digging new tunnels, he will do whatever else is asked of him. He will be as useful as he possibly can be.
But he will heal no more than one person per day.
Dallas told him to meet in tunnel block B-8. “B” means it’s on the second level, and “6” means the room is behind door 6. Max goes there often, because it’s been set up as a makeshift first aid station and hospital.
He makes his way down the dark, sloping hallway. There are tiles on the ground that keep his feet from getting muddy. Poles and wood bracers hold up the walls and ceiling. Max keeps his candle lit so that he doesn’t trip over a pole. Shadows bounce off the dirt walls. There are protruding rocks and even flecks of turquoise, but those are practically valueless here. Everyone is too preoccupied with survival to even consider mining beyond what they need to fortify the doors.
He holds out his glass candle holder once he reaches the B level, and heads down the narrow corridor. Down here, it smells strongly of petrichor, nearly identical to his natural smell. Max finds that calming.
The door to B-6 is already ajar, but he hesitates. When he meets new Oasians, some still stare at him with wide, terrified eyes, as if they recognize him from their nightmares. But most people simply treat him like any other Oasian. The dictator is a distant memory now that there is a much more immediate threat that no one is sure how to defeat. Max steals himself, hoping this particular family won’t recognize him.
When Max steps inside, Dallas is there standing next to the bed. There are four other Oasians there too, all standing around and looking down at the person laying in the bed.
It’s a small, frail boy. He might be a teenager, but it’s hard to tell.
“This is Davy,” Dallas says quietly. “He could use your help.”
The child flicks his gaze over to Max. His lips move, but if he speaks Max cannot hear him. He nods at Dallas and steps closer to the bed. He doesn’t ask any questions, and hands Dallas his candle. The boy’s family doesn’t react except to step away and give him room.
As Max touches the boy’s arm, Dallas holds out his empty hand to a woman with tears shining in her eyes.
“Let us pray,” he says.
The family members bow their heads, and Max takes a deep breath. Then the room fades away as Max grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut.
In flashes, he sees Davy as a young kid playing in a beautiful room illuminated by light. Then he sees Davy typing on a computer, and then sitting at a table laughing with three other people that don’t look like him. Then he sees the Ravager, charging towards Davy with gnashing teeth. The boy starts to scream right as Max feels the healing energy drain his body.
When he opens his eyes, Davy is smiling.
“Wow,” Davey breathes. Color is already returning to his cheeks. Max pulls his hand away, satisfied, as Davey’s family members crowd around the bed with tears shining in their eyes.
Max can hear the Ravager’s pointy metal legs clicking along the floor at incredible speed. It’s gaining on him, and he has no weapon that can stop it. He concentrates on throwing objects against it using his telekinesis. He passes fallen tree trunks and abandoned metal structures in a blur and tosses them with his mind, striking the Ravager as fast and as hard as he can. His foraging bag is still slung over his shoulder, and it hits his thigh as he runs, but he barely feels it.
He hears someone shouting his name from far off. It might be Dallas, but it doesn’t really matter because the tunnel entrance is still too far away. Max can’t outrun the Ravager.
It was always a risk coming to the surface to look for food, and Max had accepted that risk. Besides, he never imagined he would survive as long as he had already, when so many other Oasians had been killed. Maybe his time is finally up.
All Max knows is that he’s sick and tired of running.
He stops and abruptly turns around to face the monster. It cocks its head and skids to a halt. Its eyes don’t blink, they just stare, red and terrifying. The protruding metal spikes swivel to point at Max, and it begins to click its teeth.
Max concentrates so hard his head feels like it’s going to explode. He pictures the ravager’s limbs ripping from its body, and its spikes splintering off its back. He wills the Ravager to split along its visible seams, or for its rib cage to implode. He wishes like hell for the Ravager to snap its mouth closed and crumble into dust.
The ravager is stock-still and trembling. It screams its horrible cry, just like it did last time. Some shiny green liquid starts to leak from its midsection and viscous globs of the stuff plop onto the ground.
Then Max hears Isobel shout his name, and he figures he’s hallucinating. He doesn’t dare take his gaze off the ravager, doesn’t notice anything different except the blood that’s started to trickle out of his nose. But Isobel’s voice is there somewhere, asking him if he’s okay. He can’t help but smile, glad that at least if he’s going to die, Isobel is there with him.
It’s Michael who shouts next, as if he’s trying to get Max’s attention. Michael’s voice is like a jolt to the system, and Max looks in the direction of the sound.
He can Michael and Isobel, running towards him. Max nearly starts crying with relief, but he can’t. He has to keep a hold of the Ravager before it eats them both. Michael and Isobel stop when they reach him. Max can’t speak, afraid that his resolve will crumble if he does.
Luckily, the three of them don’t always need words. Max feels the burden lessen just a little bit. Michael and Isobel put their hands up, pushing at the ravager with their minds. They look fresh and healthy and ready to do battle, and Max thinks he’s never been more grateful for them than he is at that moment.
With Michael and Isobel at his side, he digs deep and finds another reserve from which to draw on. The three of them strain and grunt from their effort until the ravager does start to split at the seams, unable to withstand them. It shakes and screams as the metal bindings around its ribs start to unravel. There’s a great popping sound as pieces start to fly from it, first its spikes and then one of its front legs.
Max can’t feel his own body at all anymore, and his legs give out as he falls to the ground, but he holds on. The monster starts to collapse inward, and with one last screech its head crashes to the ground and the red lights of its eyes go out.
Max gasps and lets go of the monster, and a wave of pain and bodily awareness crashes over him, worse than anything he’s ever felt. His sides ache with phantom bruises, like someone had been striking him with iron fists. There’s a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, and his pulse is pounding in his ears. Good thing he’s already on his knees.
He should have known it would take three. Michael and Isobel crowd around him, hugging him. He sags against them, forcing his lungs to do the painful work of breathing.
“Is Liz -?” Max mumbles weakly.
“She’s fine. She’s coming,” Isobel says against his hair. “She found a way to open the portal.”
Max can’t focus on anything after that. He passes out in Michael and Isobel’s arms, no longer afraid for the first time in months.