Disclaimer: I do not own them because if I did there would be no reason to write this story as Alex would still be alive.

Description: What if Isabel never woke up from her dreams of Alex?

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Takes place after Isabel’s first dream after Alex has left for “band practice”

***

Isabel sighed as she watched Alex leave the Crashdown. God, she was so glad his dying had been a horrible nightmare. She didn’t know what she would have done without Alex. She had always known he was important to her but she had hoped to keep that knowledge from him to keep him safe. But now she realized that was a foolish dream. Almost losing him had been the worst moment of her life. It was worse than when Max had been captured by the FBI, worse than when those disgusting dreams had started between her and Michael, worse than when Max had exposed them all by saving Liz. She couldn’t lose Alex and she couldn’t push him away again.

He didn’t even know that she. . .cared about him.

And he should.

He deserved it.

Isabel made a decision. She slid out of the booth. Alex had said he was going to band practice. She would go with him. She felt better when he was near and she wanted to tell him how she felt about him. It was important that he know.

***

Humming to herself happily, Isabel sauntered along the sidewalks of Roswell. She was meeting Alex soon. They had a date. He was taking her to a movie. He had groaned about it being a chick flick but that was alright. It’s not like it was a movie she actually wanted to see. She had other plans for Alex. Plans that involved the back row and extreme darkness.

Isabel waved as Maria and Michael walked up to her. Michael had his arm around Maria’s waist. The shock of Alex’s near miss had opened Michael up. Terrified Maria could die, he realized, just like she had, that it was better to hold on and not let go than to let go prematurely. They chatted for a few minutes. Michael muttered under his breath when Maria mentioned their “date” tonight up at the cliffs to stargaze. Isabel smirked as she caught Maria’s eye. Looks like she and Maria had the same idea for their men tonight.

Walking into the Crashdown, Isabel saw him. He was sitting at the counter drinking an orange soda. She smiled. He was so adorable, handsome, sweet, funny, and he belonged to her. He put his arm around her as she walked up to him. Then he placed a deep, long kiss on her mouth.

Isabel liked this side of Alex. Going to Sweden had made him more aggressive and Isabel loved every second of it. She murmured in loss as he moved away. He smirked down at her from his perch on the chair, and she laughed and playfully punched his shoulder.

Everything was just perfect, she mused. Maria and Michael were happy, and she had Alex. As for the triangle between Liz, Max, and Tess, Isabel had no intention of involving herself with that. She didn’t know how to solve it and with Max regaining memories and feelings for Tess, she knew neither did he. But it was Max’s problem not hers and Max could solve it. She had too many other things to think of.

Her parents were a little upset that she had decided to not graduate early and fulfill her potential, but she didn’t want to leave Alex. They understood she was still traumatized by his near death so they didn’t push. They knew she still woke up screaming from dreams he had died.

At the movies later that night, after an incredibly long make-out session, Isabel fell asleep in Alex’s car as he drove her home. She was dimly aware of Alex carrying her to her bedroom and murmured happily as he pressed a light kiss to her mouth after laying her on the bed. Isabel heard the door close behind him as he left but it was okay.

She knew he would be there for her in the morning to go to school together.

Isabel drifted off to sleep safe and secure in her knowledge that Alex was still with her and nothing could go wrong as long as he was.

***

The group of seven, six teens and one adult, stood in the middle of the pod chamber. On a specially constructed rock, Isabel Diane Evans lay quietly sleeping. It had been three weeks since Alex Whitman’s death.

Isabel had cried herself to sleep the first night and had never woken again.

Unable to wake her, and not wanting to leave her in the house for fear of their parents’ reactions and possible consequences if they decided to take Isabel to a hospital, Max and the others had brought her to the pod chamber. Here she would lay until she was ready to wake up again. The story would be that she ran away, distraught with grief over Alex’s death.

As they turned to leave the chamber and their friend behind, none of them heard her sigh and murmur Alex’s name. And none of them saw the smile cross her face as her beloved tickled her in retaliation as she snatched cheese fries off his plate.

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