he’s left a note at the diner, not knowing what was going to happen today when he tries to resurrect her sister against the wishing of his own siblings. not really even knowing what to write on it for once. ever the writer, evans. the note is simple, sweet and to the point. ‘ whatever happens, i love you. ‘
sʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇsɴ’ᴛ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴅᴀʏs.
in retrospect, she should have known he would leave some piece for her to find. some little shred of his devotion, proof that liz ortecho was once loved by the best soul she’s ever known. but in her defense, she hasn’t been back to the diner in days. hasn’t left michael’s makeshift lair since they placed max’s body into the pod, her days and nights turning into a tumultuous, endless search for a cure. some way to bring him back.
when she does discover the note, she’s running on empty. hasn’t had a bite to eat since she last saw him alive, hasn’t slept since those few moments of rest at his side. hasn’t cried since she held his limp body in her arms, either, too hyper-focused on her work to spare time for buried-deep emotions. would still be right there, pouring over various chemical compounds and the reactions of lab rats, but her father needed her. rosa needed her. and they were the only two people who could manage to pull her away.
it’s the familiar swirl of his handwriting that captures her attention, brows furrowing as she studies the note from a distance. ‘ really nice handwriting, for a guy. ‘ her own words echo across the chasm of her mind as she slowly, so slowly, moves towards the slip of paper, heart jumping unsteadily into her throat.
ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. of course. of course. trembling hands snatch the note from the counter, fingertips desperate where they clutch this small piece of him. doesn’t want to wrinkle it, but she can’t stop herself from holding it close. vision blurs with unshed tears as she stares down at it, his warm, gruff voice whispering into her mind: whatever happens, i love you.
i’ve loved you my entire life.
the sound she makes is inhuman, something between a strangled sob and a cry. back pressed to the wall, liz sinks to the floor, knees coming to rest against her chest. though their bond tethered them together in those final moments, she never got to say it. never got to utter those three little words: i love you. i love you, max evans. with everything i have.
later, she clings to the note as her fuel to keep going. refuses to give up on discovering a cure, working side-by-side with michael to create something, anything that will bring him back. even goes so far as to get those five little words tattooed across her collarbone, near where his handprint will always belong. and when he comes back, when she finally saves him, those are the first words to tumble from her lips:
ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ.