Disclaimer: Roswell, its characters and situations, are owned by the WB. No infringement intended.

Author's Note: This story is the part of an evolving future storyline. All the stories currently in this storyline are included in order on the Future Arc page.

— Mama, are you there?

— Yes, little one.

— Mama, are you crying?

— I’m okay.

— Please, Mama. Don’t cry. Papa wouldn’t like it.

— How do you know that?

— I know because he told me. Papa told me to take care of you.

— He did?

— Yes. He talks about you a lot.

— I miss your papa.

— I know. He says that he misses you too. Please stop crying. He said that too. He says it hurts him inside when you cry.

— I’ll stop then. There. I’ve stopped.

— Thank you. Mama, would you like to hear a story?

— I didn’t know you could tell stories.

— I am very good at telling stories. Would you like to hear one?

— That would be nice.

— I’ll tell you a story then, Mama. So you can sleep.

* * * *

— Mama, are you there?

— Yes, little one.

— Can you tell me a story this time? About my family. About what they’re like.

— They’re special. All of them. Your family loves you, little one. Your grandparents have so much love to give. Your uncle is looking forward to playing with you.

— I want to meet them.

— You will soon.

— But how will I know them, Mama?

— You’ll know them by how they love each other, little one. That’s how we recognize each other.

— I’m not sure I understand.

— It’s hard to explain. Here, little one. This can be my story.

You’ll know my parents -- your grandparents -- because of the touch of their love. Their love is a tangible thing. It is like the softness and delicacy of the dusty-pink rose petals that are scattered everywhere around their house.

You’ll know Aunt Maria and Uncle Michael’s love by its scent. Their love is an essence vibrating in the air between them. Their love suffuses the air with the scents of cypress and eucalyptus.

You’ll know Aunt Isabel and Uncle Alex’s love because it is like the peace when two opposite forces are in equivalent motion.

You’ll know the love of my cousin Nicole and her husband because they literally produce sparks.

I can go on and on. Is this a story you want to hear, little one?

— Yes, Mama. Please tell me this story. So I can fall asleep.

* * * *

— Mama, are you there?

— Yes, little one.

— Mama, why do I feel afraid?

— Because I feel afraid, little one.

— Why are you afraid?

— I am afraid that I have no strength to do this. That I can’t see the open door because I am mesmerized by the closed one. That I can’t carry on alone.

— You aren’t alone, Mama.

— I am, little one. I have been since your papa left me.

— Mama, please don’t cry. And please don’t be afraid. I promised Papa I would take care of you.

— I won’t cry then, little one. Hmmm. I keep calling you "little one." Do you have a name?

— Evan Thomas, Mama. Papa says that people should have their own first names. That’s why he doesn’t want me to have his. But he said it could be my second name.

— That sounds like your papa. When will I talk to you again?

— Tomorrow, Mama. Every day, if you like. You should sleep now, though. I promised Papa I would take care of you.

— When you come, I’ll take care of you too.

— That’s how it works when you love someone, Mama. You take care of each other. That’s what you told me with your story.

— Yes, that’s true. When will I be able to hold you, Evan?

— Soon, Mama. Soon.

Non-Author's Note: Hi, it's Kara. Dani said I could put up a note here if I wanted. This is her response to the fact that so many of us thought "Tomorrow" ended too sadly. And, presents the next generation of Roswell. Yes, we're grandparents! And it's only the beginning...

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