Lethal Whispers | (Roswell Fanfiction) | √

Chapter 11

Max

He caught a glimpse of her a couple feet ahead. Her chocolate-colored hair was billowing behind her as she ran, her laughter echoing off the walls.

"Wait!" he yelled after her, but her response was even more laughter as she disappeared around a corner.

The walls were moving, like waves, and it was making him dizzy. The floor beneath his feet was moving, making him stumble. But he needed to get to her. He turned the corner and she was gone. "Hello?" If he only knew her name.

"Hello," a smiling voice said behind him. Turning around, the evasive brunette was standing not five feet away.

"Who are you?" he asked breathlessly, rooted in place, afraid that she would disappear if he moved.

She angled her head inquisitively, "Have you forgotten me?"

"You're the girl, aren't you? You're the girl from the accident."

She smiled. "Have you forgotten me?"

He shook his head. "No. I haven't. What's your name?"

"You know my name," she replied.

"No," he breathed. "No, I don't."

"You whisper my name," she continued.

Aislin.

Max turned around at the name whispered across the hallways. When he looked back, the girl was not alone. The blonde girl was standing only a few feet away from the brunette.

"He's mine," the blonde whispered darkly.

They were usually not in his dream together, had never co-existed in the same space. Now he could see why. The blonde had turned ugly as she had seen the brunette.

"No," the brunette objected softly, peacefully. "He never was."

Max felt like a parrot, repeating himself in a very uncreative manner, but addressing the blonde this time he asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm your wife," she replied with a hard face.

He frowned. "I'm not married."

"You were," the blonde answered. "Until death do us part."

A shimmer next to the blonde pulled his attention back to the brunette and he watched her start to fade. "No," he pleaded. "No, don't go."

"It's just me and you now," the blonde smiled and someone was rustling him.

He came to, a stranger leaning over him. "Mister? Are you okay?"

Self-consciously, Max abruptly straightened up in the plastic chair. He was on the subway and he had fallen asleep. The commuters around him was looking at him strangely and he became worried that he might have been talking in his sleep.

"I'm fine, just a dream," Max answered the worried passenger and after a final odd look, he left Max alone.

Max was a novelty for approximately ten more seconds before the curious commuters had returned their attention to their iPads, their phones, their newspapers.

"I'm fine," Max mumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead.

Aislin.

*****

Isabel

"You look tired." Her statement was met with a non-committed wordless shrug. "Are you sleeping okay?"