Outside Looking In
By Danielle
Disclaimers: Roswell, all it's characters and episodes and such, belong to Jason Katims and the WB. So very sad, too, because, oh the things I would do with these characters if I owned them. But I digress.
Notes: Okay, so I'm basically a M/M or I/A writer, but this idea came into my head. It's a Kyle POV set after Destiny.
I look down and I can still see it. Still feel the point where the bullet entered my body and hit a couple of organs before exiting through my back, just below my shoulder blade. Still see the blood, dry and caking on my shirt. Still see the silver palm print where it was, in the middle of my chest, just above my heart. I think I'll always see it now.
Did you ever read MacBeth? My English teacher made us read it this year. And she told me that if I didn't turn in a paper about it, I would not be playing in this year's homecoming game. So needless to say, Kyle Valenti actually sat down and read Shakespeare. Turns out it was kinda cool. Battles and murder, ghosts and witches. But the part that got me was Lady MacBeth. You know, she kept wandering around, all crazy, yelling about how she could still see the blood on her hands from having some people who were in her way killed. The chick was nuts, yes, but in a way I kind of understand her. And I think that's why I still see it.
'Cause you know, all year I was trying to pin something on Max. Blame him for Liz breaking up with me. Trying to figure out his secret so I could rat him out to my dad. Then maybe my dad, and Liz, and basically everyone would love me for taking the bastard out. I should have known his secret was bigger than I could handle. I should have known Liz wouldn't be so devoted to a bad guy. And now I owe him my life, just like Liz does. I guess that makes me the bad guy, huh? And I know that's something to feel guilty about after what he did for me.
I was dead. Or I would have been in minutes if Max didn't heal me. And he did it, knowing how much I disliked him, and knowing that it would reveal everything to my dad. He did it anyway. So, you see, I'm like Lady MacBeth with the guilt, wandering around still feeling that handprint on my chest. The difference is, though, that I have a chance to make it up to him. And to Liz. And Michael and Isabel, Maria, Alex, Tess, and yeah to myself. Because I don't want to be the bad guy anymore. I wonder what Lady MacBeth would have done if she didn't go crazy. If she'd had a chance to make it up to the people she'd wronged.
It's been strange around here the last couple of days. I want to be able to talk to them about things. Any one of them would do. But I still feel uncomfortable. I mean, I see Liz with Max, and yes, I still get jealous. But not like before. I'm jealous because he can be the kind of guy she deserves and I never could have been. For one thing, which is a more useful skill to have- the ability to shoot a ball through a hoop or the ability to heal gunshot wounds? I think I'd pick him over me too.
Then I see Maria and Michael. They're not even together anymore. But they love each other. It's written all over their faces when they see each other. I envy that, too. Cause I want someone to look at me like that someday. And you know, before, maybe I was the wrong kind of guy for that look. Maybe I wasn't the kind of guy who a girl can fall in love with. But I want to be. It's all part of learning how not to be the bad guy I guess.
And then there's Isabel and Alex. Who could have ever pictured those two together? But now that I've become Mr. Observant, I've noticed the little things that go on between them. Like how Alex pulls her chair out for her. And how she always buttons the top button of his shirt. And how she leans her head on his shoulder when they sit together at lunchtime. I mean, it's really sappy and all, yes, but at the same time, you have to respect that Alex cared enough to push past her cold fronts. I don't know one person who has ever cared enough to do that for me. Including my dad. And believe me, my fronts are just as tough as Isabel's were. You think it's easy to be the uncaring, unfeeling, stuck up jerk that I pretend to be? No way man.
So, I'm sitting over here, alone for once, at my table, completely staring at them. I couldn't deal with the company of my so-called friends today. Too much on my mind. For example, when did I turn into this wussy, sentimental guy? Or has he been hidden so long that I completely forgot he even existed? In either case, I feel different today. I don't want to watch them anymore. I want to be part of their circle. Maybe Max triggered this side of me when he healed me or something, I don't know. But I do know you can never stare death in the face like that and come out the same person. I didn't.
I used to be Kyle Valenti, Football, Basketball and Baseball star, good-looking, lady-killing Sheriff's son, and all around popular guy. And now I'm Lady MacBeth. Out, out damn, handprint. You make me feel bad. Make me want to be a better person. I'm waiting outside the circle that I truly want to join, waiting for a sign that I can come in. But the glow of this handprint holds me back. Keeps me from asking entry. Keeps me on the outside looking in.
Questions, Comments, Feedback to Danielle
