Part 27 - Awakening

Alex burrowed his head under the pillow, trying valiantly to ignore the banging noise attempting to wake him up. He'd been having such a nice dream. He and Isabel had been walking by the side of a beautiful lake, occasionally stopping to dance or kiss, but mostly just being happy together. Being happy with Isabel was still a new sensation. Being with Isabel, period, was a new sensation, and he really didn't want to miss a minute of it, even if it was just in a dream. But whatever that noise was, it wasn't stopping. Finally he gave up trying to return to the dream, and glared in the direction of the offending noise.

"If this isn't an emergency, somebody is so going to regret this," he muttered as he went over to the window. The noise was a persistent pounding coming from outside. Opening the curtain, he saw Michael standing there, hand raised to pound on the window again. Alex's annoyance switched to concern as he opened the window for the alien to climb through. "Michael? What's up? Is something wrong?" His mind was racing furiously. Of all the people who he could imagine climbing through his window first thing in the morning......... well, okay. So he actually couldn't imagine many people climbing through his window first thing in the morning. Although he wouldn't have minded having Isabel.... Focus, he reminded himself, trying to wake up fully. As much as it would have been nice to open your window to see Isabel standing there, she's not the alien climbing through your window. Can you really imagine Michael coming by just to say good morning?

As Alex stepped back, Michael climbed into the room and started pacing about nervously. Alex just stepped back and watched, dumbfounded. He didn't think he'd ever seen Michael appear nervous like this before. Michael simply wasn't the fidgeting type, but here he was, all over the place. Michael's eyes were darting everywhere in the room. Either he couldn't keep focused on one thing for very long, or he was busy trying to memorize every last detail in Alex's room, from guitar case to computer. Interesting. He filed that away to think about later, though. He repeated his question. "What's up?"

Michael looked over and really focused on him finally. "Dagmar's missing."

Alex nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know. I got the top-secret memo."

"I'm going out to his house to see if I can find anything."

"Oh." Alex thought for a minute. That seemed to make some sense. "Hasn't Valenti already gone out there to look around?"

Michael shrugged. He was over by the computer now, looking through a nearby pile of disks. Alex moved over quickly and took them away from him. Not that he didn't trust Michael, but he didn't want those disks accidentally melted or erased or anything. Or dropped and stepped on. Michael seemed capable of that in his current distracted state. "Yeah. Valenti's been out there. And if he didn't find anything, there probably isn't anything to find. But I want to give it a try anyway." Now he was picking up a book of early American poetry, but seemed to dismiss it quickly, putting it down with a grimace. "I have to do something. I can't just sit around until Maria......." Michael stopped abruptly and looked over at Alex. "Want to come?"

Blink, blink. "You want me to come with you on an alien fact-finding mission?" Michael rarely asked anyone along on one of those, and when he did, it was Maria. Actually, come to think of it, he probably didn't actually ask Maria. Maria just probably went along.

"Yeah."

"Um, sure, I guess. I didn't have any other exciting plans for the day." Alex was still a bit confused by this, but why not? "I guess you need a car, huh?" That would explain the invitation.

Michael just looked at him in surprise, though. "Not really. I could ride my bike out, or walk even. I could probably use the exercise right now." He gave a small laugh, but Alex didn't really see the joke. "You don't have to come if you don't want."

"No, sounds like fun." Yeah, fun. Missing alien. What could account for a missing alien? Let's see - evil aliens. Alien hunters. Psychotic guidance counselors. Any and all of the above. Just some good old-fashioned Roswell fun. Alex had to grin. His life was certainly different from most.

Michael seemed to understand and grinned back at Alex - an actual smile, not a grimace. He turned and went back out the window.

Alex quickly got changed, thinking about his dream as he did so. There was something about it that was nagging at the back of his brain, something he really should remember, but couldn't quite seem to. What was it? Something before the dance with Isabel.

Shaking his head, Alex grabbed his keys. If it was important, he'd remember it. He stopped in the kitchen to grab some water bottles and a flashlight and went out the door, wishing he had a trusty dog to take with them. It just didn't seem right to go investigating a suspicious disappearance in an abandoned house without a dog along.

Then he remembered, and stopped still as a sudden chill gripped his heart.

It wasn't just a dream. Isabel had really been there - dreamwalking him. But that wasn't the part that caused him to freeze in terror.

Isabel hadn't been alone when she came to his dream.

He remembered the figure in the dark shadow.

He remembered the glowing eyes that looked right into him.

Alex shook his head and forced himself to walk through the doorway and out into the light. Dreamwalk or not, it had been a dream. Isabel had just had a nightmare. Hardly surprising after everything they'd learned the night before. It was just a dream, and dreams couldn't hurt you.

He saw Michael leaned against the side of his car, and forced himself to concentrate on the important things. Dagmar was missing. The detectives were on the case, even if they didn't have a dog. He could try to analyze his and Isabel's dreams later. Right now, they had Roswell Reality 101 to deal with.

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Alex followed Michael's directions out to Dagmar's house. He was glad that Michael remembered the way out there, because he didn't. They'd been too worried when they drove out there the other night for him to pay much attention to directions. Course, Michael spent way more time out in the desert than any of them. Alex had the radio blasting and was drumming away on the steering wheel as he drove, but otherwise there was silence in the car. But it was a comfortable silence. Michael wasn't the type to talk unless he had something to say, and Alex could respect that. It was nice to be able to just drive along and think.

Mostly he was trying to figure out exactly why that barely glimpsed figure from Isabel's dream had him so freaked. It was just a dream, after all.

Well, for one thing, what makes you so sure that it was from Isabel's dream? I mean, that was your dream she entered. Whatever was in it should therefore be your dream, not hers.

But it wasn't. Alex was sure of it. Which meant that the figure had come with Isabel. That it had followed her.........

Alex's attention was brought back sharply to the road as the car started to swerve a bit. Michael looked over sharply. "Careful."

He nodded. "Yeah. Sorry about that." He looked over at Michael out of the corner of his eye, observing the distracted way the alien kept looking out the window and fidgeting in his seat. "Is something the matter, Michael? Besides the fact that we have a missing alien, that is?"

Without looking at him, Michael shook his head. "Just tired. I haven't slept the last couple of days."

"A couple of day?" Alex was shocked. "You've gone a few days without any sleep at all?"

He shrugged. "It's no big deal. I used to go days without sleep back when I was living with Hank. There were times when staying awake and alert seemed smarter." Alex could see the slight grimace on Michael's face.

"Oh." He couldn't quite think of anything to say to that. He knew about what Hank had done to Michael, of course. They all did. But it wasn't something that Michael ever talked about. He kept that separate from the rest of them. Isabel had told him once that Michael didn't even talk to Max and her about it. It bothered her that her other brother didn't confide in her. Alex suspected that it had nothing to do with trust, though. Michael had tried to protect Max and Isabel from the ugliness of his life, tried to keep them safe and untouched by the violence he lived with. Out of nowhere, Alex wondered if Michael ever talked to Maria about Hank. He doubted it, but he was willing to bet that Maria somehow knew all about it anyway. They were like that - able to communicate without words. He hoped that he and Isabel would have the chance to be that close someday.

"Well, here we are." Alex pulled up to the ranch house. "Let's go a-sleuthing."

Michael got out of the car, then stopped before entering the house. Alex stopped on his way to the door and looked back. "What now?"

Taking a deep breath, Michael blurted out, "Do you think I'm good for Maria?"

"Huh?" Michael brought him out here to have a talk about girls?

"Do you think I'm good for Maria?" he repeated patiently. This was important. "You've never worried about letting me know what you thought about it before. I want to know if you think I should stay away from her or not."

Alex walked back to him slowly. This was pretty bizarre. "Are you asking for my blessing or something?"

Michael laughed. "I guess so." Then he looked serious again. "You know what I did to Vilandra. Do you think I'm bad for Maria?"

"AAArgh!" Alex was seriously tempted to bang his head on the roof of the car in frustration. "I swear, I am going to make up signs that say 'You are not Vilandra' and 'You are not Tymrath'. Then I am going to start thumping you and Isabel over the head with them when you start with all this guilt and angst stupidity! It's getting really old, you know."

He was surprised to see that Michael was actually smiling at him. He seemed to be doing that more lately. It was going to take some getting used to. "I'm guessing that means you don't think I'm the same as Tymrath."

"No. You Michael. Not Tymrath. And I'm getting tired of this speech."

"Okay, then. What about Michael? Do you think I should keep on with Maria?"

Alex stopped and gave this some thought. "You've hurt her, Michael. A lot. And she deserved better."

He nodded. "Agreed."

"Okay. Are you going to push her away again like you did over the summer?"

Michael looked off into the distance. "I don't think I could even if I wanted to. And I don't want to." He looked back at Alex. He was totally serious now, and looked much older than his human age. Alex really thought for the first time what it would be like to have seen and experienced all the things his friend had gone through in his two lifetimes. He was glad that he wouldn't ever know. "I can't promise that I won't ever have to leave. But I can promise that I'll always come back. And that I will never intentionally hurt her."

Alex nodded solemnly. "That's all anyone can ask, I guess. Then yeah. You have my blessing. Happy now?" Michael nodded and started to walk towards the house, but stopped when Alex stepped in front of him. "Of course, if you ever do hurt her again, watch out."

Michael's eyebrows rose at that, but he silently accepted the warning. He recognized the determination in Alex's voice and knew that Alex would make him pay if he ever hurt Maria again. Of course, that was why he had asked for Alex's blessing. It just seemed right. Maria loved Alex like a brother, and since Michael couldn't exactly talk to her mother about this, Alex was the next best thing to family. Plus, he knew Alex would punch him out again if he thought Michael was a threat to her. The last doubt he had about being with Maria was laid to rest. Now to see if they could learn anything about what happened to Dagmar, then he could go find Maria.

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Finding the door locked, Alex stood back and let Michael to do his alien whammy-magic. Michael put his hand on the lock, then opened the door when he heard the soft click of the lock opening. He motioned for Alex to stand back a minute. Wisely, Alex did.

Michael entered the living room that they had all spent so much time in only a little over 24 hours ago. There was no sign of a struggle, no sign that anything was wrong actually.
The morning light was streaming through the windows, illuminating the vacant room. Perfectly peaceful and perfectly empty. Michael closed his eyes and concentrated, seeing if he could sense anything in the house. He opened them and motioned for Alex to come in, walking a little into the house. Nothing.

Alex cautiously entered, peering about for any signs of evil aliens or FBI agents. "Anyone home?" he called out.

Michael shook his head as he opened a closet door and looked inside. "Nobody's been here in a while."

"How can you tell?"

He turned around and looked at Alex with a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't know. I just can. The place feels empty, you know? And still. Like nothing's disturbed in it for a while." He shrugged. "I can't explain it."

"Okay." Alien hunting instincts at work. Too bad he couldn't use this for a research paper topic. He looked in the small nook across the hallway. "We should have a dog."

"What?"

"A dog. All the great investigative teams had a dog. Look at Scooby Doo. And then there was Nick and Nora from the Thin Man movies. They had a little dog that went on their investigations with them. We should have a bloodhound sniffing for clues."

Michael went quickly up the stairs to check out the upstairs rooms. Empty, too. "You think about this stuff often?"

Alex followed him. Nothing looked unusual or suspicious. Nothing to indicate that an alien had ever lived there, in fact. "Well, you know, if we're going to be a detective partnership, we should do it right."

"Maybe we should copy another TV show. Since we don't have a dog with us."

"How about Star Trek?" Alex asked brightly. He would have sworn that he actually saw Michael amost laugh.

"Great. So who gets to be Kirk?"

"Me, of course. I'm the human after all. You can be Mr. Spock."

Michael stopped short and glared at him. "No way do you get to have sex with all the hot alien girls while I get to be Spock!"

Alex had to laugh. "True. You're not exactly Spock material anyway. How about Worf?" Looking inside a closet, he saw some empty hangers.

Michael thought about it for a minute. Worf was cool, and he had the whole alien warrior thing going. "Okay. I could deal with that."

"Good. I don't see a suitcase anywhere. Maybe Dagmar really did just leave town."

"Maybe." Michael's response sounded highly doubtful.

Alex's eyes lit up as he entered Dagmar's study. "A computer! He has a computer!"

Michael followed him in and laughed. Alex was way too excited about computer stuff. "Why don't you see if you can find anything on the computer and I'll look through the rest of the house?" Alex nodded absently, already busily trying to enter the files stored on the hard drive. Michael shook his head in amusement and went back downstairs. Having gone through the rest of the place, he headed back towards the kitchen.

And stopped as he walked in, stunned by the intense surge of emotions. He closed his eyes, holding on to the doorframe as they washed over him. Violence. There had been violence here, and pain. Lots of pain, slowly and methodically applied. And since he hadn't felt any of this the last time he was here, obviously it had happened since they all left Dagmar here the other night. But was Dagmar the victim or the one causing the pain? Or was someone else involved?

As the feelings subsided a bit, Michael was able to stumble across the room to the sink. Great. Just great. Heightened senses, hearing and sight, those were things he and the others were used to having. They didn't even really think about them - they were just part of who they were. This was something different, something he'd forgotten about until just then. Tymrath had spent his entire life in battles of one type or another. Each day was a fight, even if there was no bloodshed. And while his psychic powers were seriously lacking by the standards of his house, this was one area in which he learned to excel. Violence left an imprint on the atmosphere, something that could be picked up on if you were attuned to it enough. He remembered the feeling of that psychic imprint from countless battlefields and smaller skirmishes. So what happened here?

Trying desperately to shake off the feelings and memories, he walked through the kitchen slowly, examining every detail methodically. He couldn't see anything out of place or strange. There was absolutely nothing to indicate that anything bad had happened here, nothing except for the sensations pricking along his spine. At least he didn't have any feelings of being hunted at the moment, so whoever had caused this was long gone.

Michael poured himself a glass of water mixed with tabasco sauce, and stood drinking it by the sink. Calm down and try to think this out rationally. If something did happen here, could Dagmar defend himself? He was able to fight Nicholas off, but that was temporary. If Nicholas came back, would Dagmar have been able to fight him off alone? From what he could remember from before, Michael would have said no. But that was before the war and resistance. Dagmar could very well have honed his fighting skills over the last fifty years. He poured himself some more water and gulped it down. Being here was bringing up way too many feelings of deja vu for him to be comfortable. And yet at the same time, it felt completely natural.

Closing his eyes, Michael let himself be submerged in the sensations. Everything was magnified, every sense heightened. He could hear Alex moving around upstairs, muttering under his breath, even though he couldn't make out the individual words. He could hear the wind blowing through the desert outside. Every creak in the house was noted and analyzed to see if it was a threat. A small smile formed on his lips. It was the way he reacted to the warm prickly feeling moving over his skin. He knew the basics of what had happened here, if not the details, and his entire body woke up in an effort to deal with the potential threat. Every nerve tensed up in anticipation. This was how he always felt when he was about to go into battle. Alive. And he knew that he would feel even better afterwards, when he was the one who walked away from the field.

No. His grasp on the glass tightened painfully. Not how you felt. How Tymrath felt.

Oh? And you didn't feel like this in the seconds before you killed Pierce?

That wasn't the same, he reminded himself. Remember how you felt after Pierce. That wasn't the same. Nowhere near.

He'd had enough of this sensory overload. He opened his eyes, but he didn't see the kitchen. Instead, he was bombarded by more memories of Tymrath's life, things he hadn't wanted to remember too clearly, but things that the lingering impressions of pain seemed to summon up all too vividly.

~~~ He remembered the training. Talk about pain - there were times when he didn't think he'd make it through. But he did. He got through it, and more than that, he excelled. And all the pain and all the loneliness was worth it in the end, because he was determined to reach his goal. Nothing was going to stop him from achieving it.

~~~ Watching without emotion as the king was struck down and killed in front of him. But then jumping into action as the young prince was endangered. And he could remember the shooting pain through his side as he took the injury himself. But he'd done what he set out to do. He'd saved the prince's life, so he could bear the pain.

~~~ The first time Zandar looked down at him. There was so much pain in the prince's eyes, as much pain as he had felt himself since his parents' deaths. And there was that first flicker of a connection between them, something totally unexpected.

After that, the memories started spinning too fast for Michael to really be able to analyze and look at each one objectively. All he could do was feel them. So many moments spun around in his mind, sometimes with him being the one hurt, sometimes with him being the one hurting someone else, but always pain. Always violence. Always. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to make the memories go away, but they didn't. And the hollow ache in his chest remained.

Along with the guilt.

Alex came into the room, wondering what was taking Michael so long. He saw his friend standing over the sink, eyes closed, whispering to himself in a language that Alex couldn't understand. What he saw when he walked closer made him run over to Michael and start shaking him to try and get him out of whatever type of trance he was in.

"Michael!" He didn't even budge. He just kept muttering to himself. "Michael! Come on - you're bleeding!" He tried to pry Michael's hands off the edge of the sink, but they were clutching it too tightly. Shards of broken glass lay around the edge, covered in a growing pool of blood from Michael's cut hand. "Michael, talk to me. If you bleed to death, Maria's gonna kill me!"

At the sound of Maria's name, Michael's eyes popped open. "Maria?" Focusing his eyes, he finally was able to see where he was, standing in Dagmar's kitchen, Alex looking at him worriedly. No Maria. But there was pain. Following the path of Alex's eyes, he saw why. "Damn!" He must have cut himself on the glass he'd been holding. There was quite a bit of blood dripping from the wounds. How long had he been standing there anyway?

"Here, try to apply pressure and stop the bleeding." Alex handed him a towel. Michael did as he was told, and allowed Alex to push him out into the living room and in the direction of the couch. He was still having a hard time focusing, and he felt light-headed. "Sit down. I saw a first aid kit upstairs. I'll be right back." Michael sat, staring at his hand. How long would he have stood there bleeding if Alex hadn't interrupted him? He'd been so lost in his memories. He tried, but couldn't remembered what it was that had triggered them this time. His thinking was just too fuzzy. The only thing he could seem to focus on besides the bloody towel was Maria. Where was she? Why wasn't she here with him?

Alex came back into the room. Michael looked up at him. "Where's Maria?"

Alex blinked in surprise as he started to bandage up Michael's hand. "At home, I'd guess. You saw her last."

"Yeah." He tried to concentrate. "I remember. I'm going to see her later." That was right. Thinking about Maria made him feel better. He was supposed to be with her. He wouldn't hurt so much then.

"Okay." Alex didn't even pause. He had to get Michael's cuts bandaged up - he'd already lost enough blood. "You want to tell me what the glass did to deserve being crushed?"

"Huh? Oh, that. That was an accident." Seeing that Alex was finished, Michael pulled back his hand and examined the bandage.

"You might be in shock, you know. You lost a lot of blood."

"I'll be okay. We heal fast." Looking at Alex, he went on. "How long was I down here?"

"Over half an hour. I didn't find anything suspicous up there. Although Dagmar probably has a better database on UFO sightings and alien-related rumors than even Brody does." Alex ignored the low sound that came from Michael at the mention of Brody's name. He was sure it had only sounded like a growl. "How long were you standing there bleeding?"

"I don't know," he admitted slowly. "I don't really remember much about what happened."

"I guess that could be from the shock," Alex said doubtfully. "Were you having another one of those memory flashbacks from Tymrath's life?"

Michael looked at him sharply. "How did you know?"

"You were zoned out like the other night. And you were talking to yourself. I didn't recognize any of the words. There was one word that you kept saying over and over again. It sounded like 'no'los'."

No'los. Michael tried hard not to show his shocked reaction, but he had a feeling that Alex caught his sudden sharp intake of breath. He was starting to suspect that Alex picked up on everything around him. Sure enough, the next words Alex said were, "So, you recognize it. What does it mean?"

He didn't want to answer, but he also didn't want to lie to Alex, so he responded honestly. "It's Antaran for 'traitor'."

"Oh." He hadn't been expecting that. "I guess that the Skins would think of you as a traitor, huh?"

Michael had that strange cold smile on his face again. "Oh, yeah."

Alex tried to think how to put this. He couldn't even begin to understand how strange it must be for the three of them to suddenly have all this past life baggage to deal with in addition to their ordinary alien angst. "I know that Tymrath chose to give his loyalty to Zandar, not Kivar. Do you feel badly about it on some level?" Michael looked away, and he hurried on. "I mean, it would be okay if you did. You had to make a choice and I'm sure it wasn't easy. You picked the right one, obviously, but it would be normal to have some regrets about the whole situation. I'd understand."

Michael scratched his eyebrow. "Are you still planning on being a shrink someday? Planning to have an alien-based practice?"

Alex had to laugh. "Well, I'd sure have lots of business with you guys. And it's not like you could go to anyone else, could you?" He stopped for a second. "Hey, how'd you know I was thinking about being a psyciatrist, anyway?"

Michael shrugged. "Maria mentioned it once. To answer your question, no. I never felt guilty for choosing Zandar over Kivar. Not then, and certainly not now. I made the right choice." I made the only choice.

Alex nodded, relieved.

"I owe Kivar many things," Michael said calmly, still with that smile that made Alex nervous. "But loyalty is not one of them."

"What is?"

"Dismemberment would do for a start," Michael answered promptly, only half-joking. Alex didn't even blink in response. "Sorry."

"For what? Wanting Kivar dead?" Alex shook his head. "If he ever tries to hurt Isabel again, I hope you get to him first. If it's him or us, then I'm definitely rooting for us." He tilted his head in consideration. "You mean it, don't you? Killing someone isn't just an abstract for you. You remember all of that from before now, right? Ways to fight. Ways to kill."

"Yeah." Michael met his eyes seriously. "I remember. I wish I didn't, but I do."

"It's not all bad, you know." He could see that Michael was still upset about remembering Tymrath, no matter how hard he tried to keep calm. "Just because you remember those things doesn't mean you're going to suddenly go out on a rampage of fighting and beheading and stuff. It just means that you'll have the skills to protect everyone when the Skins come again. Remembering doesn't mean you have to act the same. Because you're ........."

"Not Tymrath." Michael's smile seemed more natural now. More him, more Michael. "I know. Big sign thumping me over the head. I remember."

"Good." Alex looked around the sunny room. It was rather surreal to be talking about aliens and killing in such a nice comfy, normal looking room. "What triggered this particular flashback?"

Michael frowned, thinking hard. The only thing he could really seem to focus on was Maria - her beautiful eyes, the way her lips tasted when they kissed, the soft feel of her skin. And he was sure that it wasn't thoughts of Maria that led to those memories. He shook his head in exhaustion. "I can't remember. I've been having some trouble concentrating the last few days," he admitted.

"Great." He shrugged. "Well, I'm sure you'll remember eventually. Since we haven't found anything here to help us, maybe we should clean up and get back. If you're okay?"

"I'll be fine." Michael jumped to his feet. "I just need Maria."

"Okay." Weird, but whatever. Alex picked up his pack and looked over. Michael suddenly seemed full of energy, ready to get going and get to Maria. "Let's get back to Roswell."
Maria pushed open the doors to the Crashdown slowly. She was so tired that every step felt like a battle. But she had made it to the restaurant, so that was an accomplishment. She'd needed to get away from her mother for a while. Amy had been hovering all morning, worried that Maria was sick. It had proven impossible to keep her paleness and exhaustion from her anymore, no matter how much Maria tried. So finally, she pled the excuse of work and managed to make a break for it.

Liz was behind the counter on the phone, but she quickly hung up and walked over when she saw her friend. "Maria! Are you feeling okay?" She pulled Maria over to the counter and made her sit down. Luckily, the place wasn't too full of customers for lunch yet, so there was plenty of room.

Maria sat down gratefully. She rubbed her head, trying to get rid of the headache. "Sure. Why do you ask?"

"Your mother called. She said you'd been sick all night and that I should make sure you rested."

Maria rolled her eyes. "It wasn't all night. I was just sick for a few hours this morning. It's no big deal." Liz looked at her in disbelief. Obviously, she wasn't buying it. "Really. I just need......." Michael. I just need Michael. But she didn't think that Liz would understand that explanation anymore than her mother would have, so she changed the ending. "Rest. And some stress-free time. 'Kay?"

"If you say so. Well, if it's rest you need, then you just sit there and I'll make you a milkshake."

"Chocolate?" Maria asked hopefully.

Liz laughed. "Of course chocolate. What would be the point otherwise?" Ignoring the other customers, Liz made her friend a shake. She was more than a little worried about Maria. She'd spoken with Max earlier that morning, and he'd mentioned his late night visit from Michael. Without telling her what they'd talked about, he had managed to convey his own concern about Michael. Whatever was going on seemed to be affecting them both. Finished, she walked back over to the seats. "Here you are."

"You are a wonderful friend," Maria gushed enthusiastically as she grabbed the shake. Chocolate wasn't as good as Michael, but it wasn't bad.

Liz went back to work taking orders, but made a point of keeping an eye on Maria. For her part, Maria seemed to be totally happy just sitting there, drinking her shake and daydreaming. If she hadn't been so unnaturally quiet, then Liz wouldn't have know anything was wrong at all.

Until a crash made her head spin back around to the counter. The broken glass lay in shards on the floor. Running over, she could see that Maria had gone even paler than before. She was clutching her right hand tightly and had risen, swaying, from her seat. Liz ran over to grab her and support her before she fell.

Maria looked in her direction, but Liz wasn't even sure she saw her. "Michael," she whispered. "It hurts. So much pain. All that blood." Her eyes closed, and Liz was afraid that she was about to pass out. Quickly waving away the offers of help from some concerned customers, Liz bundled Maria quickly through the back door into the breakroom.

"Sit down." As soon as Maria was safely settled on the couch, Liz gently took her hand. "Let me see, Maria." She opened her hand and saw that it was fine. No cuts, no bruises. "Does it hurt?" Why had she been clutching her hand like that?

Eyes shut tight, Maria shook her head. "So much blood," she whispered again. Then she started to shake.

Liz held her tight, rubbing her arms and looking around quickly. She spotted an afghan lying on the ground next to the couch and grabbed it. Wrapping Maria up in it, she hoped that would be enough to stop the chills. She put a hand to Maria's forehead, but she didn't seem to have a temperature. "What blood?" she asked, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "What blood are you talking about?"

"I don't know." Maria's body jerked as if someone was shooting electrical shocks through her body. The pains kept switching locations in her body, so that as soon as she got accustomed to it in one place, it moved. First her hand, then her arms, then her back. It felt like someone was whipping her, cutting stripes across her back. Then, the phantom pain was gone, and she was just left with the tremors. "Can't you smell it?"

Liz shook her head, then realized that Maria couldn't see her. "I don't smell anything. Listen, I'm going to call Max."

As quickly as it started, the shaking stopped. Eyes flying open, Maria grabbed her arm. "No. I'm fine. It's over."

"Maria, you are not fine. This is not normal." She spoke slowly, as if to a child. For some reason, Maria was in denial about what was going on, but it had scared Liz half to death. She was not going to just sit back and do nothing while her best friend was sick and in pain like that.

"Normal? What's that?" Maria sat up straighter. She sounded more like her old self. "But I am fine, Liz. It wasn't me, anyway. It was Michael."

Liz shook her head in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Whatever that was, it was from Michael. The headaches and stuff - that's me. But that pain and the blood - that was coming from Michael. So worry about him, if you want, but not me. Anyway, it's over now."

How could Maria possibly sound so calm about this? "I don't understand what you're talking about. Are you saying that you were feeling what Michael was feeling?"

"Pretty much." Maria stretched. That definitely ranked up there with getting her wisdom teeth pulled on the list of unpleasant activities she'd experienced.

"So, someone was hurting Michael?"

Maria looked back at Liz and thought carefully. "I don't think so. I think most of the pain was removed. Distant. Like he was remembering something, not like it was happening now." and that was enough - the pain of the past. Michael was going to need some major comforting.

"How is that even possible?"

Maria sighed. "How were you able to appear halfway across the country in New York to warn Max about the Dupes? Weirdness, thy name is Roswell. It just is, Liz. Accept it and deal."

"Okay. But you are going to stay here and lie down for a little while." When it looked like Maria was going to protest, she went on with determination. "You are going to lie down for a while, Maria, so you had better just 'accept it and deal'." She smiled at her friend. "I'm going to make you some tea. I'll be right back." She got up and left.

Maria could hear her telling the rest of the staff that everything was fine, that Maria was just getting over the flu. She laughed softly to herself, then closed her eyes and let herself drift off with thoughts of ways to comfort Michael when he finally got there.

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Alex drove up and parked in the Crashdown parking lot. Before he'd even turned off the ignition, Michael was out of the car with a quick thanks and off. Alex just shook his head in amusement. And people said that he was like a puppy dog chasing after Isabel. Had any of them noticed Michael Guerin's behavior lately?

Still laughing, Alex walked in, eyes lighting up when he saw that Isabel was there. He walked slowly over to her, appreciating the way she looked. She really was too beautiful for words. He still couldn't believe how lucky he was to have her in his life. It was worth any alien-related complication.

With a smile, he slid into the booth across from her. "Hi," he said simply. He wanted to kiss her, but wasn't sure how public she wanted their relationship to be.

From her amused knowing glance, he suspected she understood the reason for his casual greeting. She leaned over the table, and drew his face down to hers. "Hi, you." Then she gave him a very long kiss. Apparently, she was okay with everyone in Roswell knowing they were a couple. Worked for him.

Liz came out from the backroom, dressed in her casual clothes. "Off work already?" he asked as she sat down next to Isabel.

"Yep." Liz gave a small smile. "Max and I are going to the movies."

"Great. So what's the matter?" Her smile hadn't totally reached her eyes, and she didn't have quite that starry-eyed look she usually had when mentioning Max's name.

Liz shrugged. "I'm not sure. Have you seen Michael today?"

Alex nodded. "Sure. Just said good-bye to him. Well, I didn't have time to actually say good-bye to him, really. He was too busy jumpng out of moving vehicles and trying to track down Maria." He felt something on his leg, and casually reached down to hold Isabel's hand. She smiled at him before turning to Liz.

"Why?"

"Maria had a weird reaction earlier. She had chills and thought that something wrong was going on with Michael. Then it passed and she was fine. At least, that's what she said." Liz's doubt about that was very clear.

Alex's attention left Isabel and focused totally on Liz. "When was this?"

"About an hour ago."

Isabel had heard the change in Alex's voice. "Why? What were you and Michael doing?"

Alex closed his eyes in concentration. An hour ago? Yeah, that was about right. "We were out at Dagmar's house looking for clues." Raising a hand, he stopped the girls' exclamations and questions. "We didn't find anything. It looks like he might have just left on his own, but there was nothing conclusive either way. Anyway, about an hour ago, Michael had an intense memory flashback to Tymrath's life. He broke a glass and cut himself pretty badly."

"So much blood," Liz whispered. "That's what Maria said. And she was holding her hand like it was hurt. Was it Michael's right hand?"

"Yeah." Alex kept the comments about traitors and Kivar to himself. Michael's feelings towards Kivar were his own, and he didn't see any need to bring them up. "It was pretty scary actually. And you're saying Maria felt it, too?"

"I guess so. I'm not sure how, but what other explanation is there?"

Alex was starting to worry about them. "Maybe we should go find them and just make sure they're okay."

"No." The quiet word was nonetheless filled with authority and certainty. Liz and Alex both looked over at Isabel. She went on. "Leave them alone. They'll be fine." She smiled a little wistfully. "We've all interfered with them enough already. Just let them be. They need to finish this together, without anyone else to bother them. We'll just make things harder for them."

"They need to finish what?" Alex was looking at her steadily, demanding an answer.

"They're bonding. It's natural. Just leave them be."

"Leave who be?" They had been so focused on what Isabel was saying, they hadn't even heard Max walk up until he spoke.

"Michael and Maria." Isabel spoke quietly, but looked at Max meaningfully. She could actually see the moment when he realized what she was talking about.

"Really?" he asked quietly, eyes wide. She just nodded. "Wow." Recovering his composure, Max handed Liz the bouquet of flowers he held in one hand. "These are for you."

"Max, thank you. They're beautiful." She stood up and gave him a quick kiss. She looked back at Isabel uncertainly. "You're sure?" She hated being in the dark like this, but figured she could get Max to explain what was going on when they were alone.

Isabel nodded. "Have fun, you two."

"We will." Max took her arm and led Liz out the door. Alex turned back to Isabel.

"Feel like explaining what all that mysterious secret spy type stuff was about?" Alex stopped at a sudden thought. "Where is Maria, anyway?"

"Liz sent her over to the UFO Center with Brody's lunch delivery a little while ago. He just got out of the hospital, and Liz begged her to go so that she could get ready for her date." Isabel almost dropped the soda she was holding. "Did you say Michael was off looking for Maria?"

The same thought had just occured to Alex. "Yeah. If he finds her with Brody.........."

Isabel started to get up. "Okay, I changed my mind. Let's go."

Alex grabbed her arm and pulled her back down into the booth next to him. "No. You were right." He pushed aside the memories of what Michael did the last time he saw Maria with Brody and Michael's earlier comments about dismemberment. "Michael won't do anything to Brody. We have to trust him, Isabel."

She looked at the door for a long moment. "Tymrath wasn't exactly big on anger management," she said finally. "And he didn't like sharing." She looked at Alex. He could see the fear and pain in her eyes. She hated remembering. "But you're right. And if I can overcome Vilandra, then Michael can overcome Tymrath. We have to trust him." She leaned over, relaxing a bit as she felt Alex's arms around her. She had a bad feeling about this, but she trusted Michael. And more than that, she trusted Alex's judgment. Michael and Maria would have to deal with their own life in their own way.
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The instant he jumped out of Alex's car, Michael headed instinctively towards the UFO Center. He wasn't sure why she was there, but that's where she was. He paused outside the door and quickly unwrapped his bandages. The cuts didn't look that bad anymore. They were healing already. He wrapped them up again, but only with as many bandages as were necessary. There was no need to worry Maria more than he had to. If she'd felt any of what he had through their bond, then she'd already been affected too much by his flashback. The worst of it was the thought that it had hurt her, too. But there wasn't much he could do about it, so he pushed that thought aside and went inside, easily dodging the few tourists in the place. He headed straight to the back restricted area where Brody kept his alien-tracking equipment.

Maria was just saying good-bye to Brody when she felt him. She looked up and saw Michael enter the room, closing the door behind him. She smiled as her body warmed up in anticipation. She felt better than she had all day, just seeing him. But then her smile faded as she saw the look in his eyes and realized that she wasn't the only one he was seeing. Michael was also seeing Brody and how close he was standing to her. She quickly stepped back a bit, putting more distance between her and Brody.

All the emotions he'd felt the last time he saw Brody were going through Michael again. He hated the way that the older man looked at Maria, the way he stood as close to her as he could, the way that he wanted to take Maria away from where she belonged. Nothing had changed. He still felt his blood roaring with the desire to get rid of Brody, the enemy. No, something had changed, he realized with a smile. Now he remembered so many different things he could do to deal with Brody, so many ways to take care of him.

Maria felt Michael's cold anger and prepared herself to drag him out of the room and away from Brody, when suddenly Michael smiled and stepped forward. He held out his hand genially to Brody.

"Hi, Brody," he said as he walked over to shake his hand. "I didn't know that you were out of the hospital already. How are you feeling?"

"I'm still a little sore, but healing." Brody returned the smile. Maria held her breath. The friendly smile on Michael's face was nowhere near matching the emotions she felt coming from him. Brody went on. "I understand that I have you and Maria to thank for scaring off the intruders."

Michael shrugged carelessly, standing next to him, apparently relaxed and without a care in the world. Maria felt like she was going to be sick. "No problem. Did they get anything?"

"I'm still doing inventory, but it doesn't appear so."

"Great." Michael's eyes went around the room, landing on a picture of Sidney. He walked over to look at the picture closer. "How's your kid doing?"

Brody walked over to him. "Sidney's fine. She's been staying with friends the last few days."

"She must be glad that you're home now." Brody smiled and nodded agreement.

Maria couldn't figure this situation out. Michael was being totally charming, making small talk with Brody as if he had never had a negative thought about him. It was obvious that Brody didn't suspect anything was wrong - he was being quite open and friendly with Michael, talking about Sidney. But Maria knew what Michael was really feeling, and it in no way matched the friendly attitude he was projecting to the outside world. He was managing somehow to hide his cold fury behind his smile, and that scared her.

Michael looked at her, noticing the way her eyes were begging him to stop. "Well, I just came over here to pick up Maria for our date. I'll wait up front. Take your time." He leaned over and gave her a quick peck on the cheek on his way out. He wanted to do so much more, to grab her and kiss her until she forgot that there was anyone else in the room, but he was trying to be on his best behavior.

Brody looked over at Maria. "Nice guy."

"Yeah," she answered absently, looking after him. She wished she had some idea of what was going on. That was bizarre, even by Michael standards. But she wanted to be with him right then, not Brody, so she turned to say her farewells. "Tell Sidney I said hello. Take it slow," she warned him, worrying that he would try to do too much too soon after being released from the hospital.

"Good night." When Brody tried to give her a friendly good-bye hug, Maria stepped aside nimbly. Somehow, having anyone besides Michael touch her right then, even in a friendly way, just seemed wrong. She quickly sped through the museum and outside.

Stepping outside, she blinked in the sudden sunlight and looked around. She didn't see him anywhere, but she knew he was nearby. She could feel him. Besides, he wouldn't have just left her like that. Confused, she started to walk around the building, but was halted by strong hands grabbing her from behind and pulling her back into the shadows.

"That was quick," Michael's quiet voice whispered from behind her as his arms pulled her even closer. She closed her eyes and leaned back into his body. It felt so good to feel his touch again. It seemed so much longer than it had been.

"I was just bringing him his food for Liz," she explained, leaning her head to one side as he kissed her neck.

"Okay," he answered. "You don't need to explain yourself to me." One hand had gone under her shirt and was starting to travel upwards. She let out a sigh as she turned her head to kiss him. He wasn't angry anymore. All his energy was focused on her, and as she turned to kiss him more properly, she almost forgot what had her so worried inside.

Almost, but not quite. Breaking off, she pulled away a bit. She kept her hands wrapped around him though, not wanting to break off all physical contact. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" He picked up one of her hands and brought it to her mouth, kissing the palm.

She thought about pulling away, but didn't want to. Instead, she waited as he proceed to kiss her wrist, then pushed up her sleeve. When he got up to her elbow, though, she did pull back. While it felt better than good, this was no way to get her questions answered.

"I could feel your emotions, Michael. You were furious with Brody."

"It was a little more than that, actually." He leaned back against the wall. Apparently, they were going to have to discuss this first before getting to more important matters.

"Right." She nodded. "But you were all Mr. Nice Guy with him. So what was going on? And since when can you hide what you're feeling like that?"

He sighed. "Did you want me to get into a fight with him, Maria?"

"Don't be stupid. Of course not."

"Then be glad that your friend's okay and that I decided to play nice. Can we drop it?"

"No, we can't drop it." She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "Explain."

"Fine." He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her a ways down the alley next to the museum so that they wouldn't be overheard. "My first instinct was to do whatever was necessary to get the freak away from you, Maria. But I trust you, so I decided to control my jealousy and be nice to the poor idiot whose only crime is to be in love with you. I'm working on control, remember? As for since when can I hide my feelings," he paused and moved in even closer, backing her up against the wall of the building and leaning in close, hands outstretched on each side of her, "it's something I remembered from before. It's sometimes useful for your enemy not to know you're coming until it's too late."

"I'm not sure I like that you can hide that well."

He shook his head, never breaking eye contact. "I can't hide from you at all, Maria. You know what I'm feeling, even if nobody else does. So what does it matter really? I can't lie to you." That was true. He reached out a hand and pushed back her hair, caressing her cheek. "Nothing else matters except us."

She put her hands on his chest. "You don't have anything to be jealous about with Brody. He's just a friend."

"I know. I can't help how I feel, though. But I can control what I do, and I'm not going to go around hurting people just because I don't like them." He sounded so sure of himself that it made her proud. Quite a difference from just a few nights ago when he was so afraid that he couldn't trust in his own self-control. "But I don't like the idea of him touching you."

"I didn't let him touch me," she replied quickly. It was important to her that he know that. "Not even a friendly hug good-bye. I can understand you not wanting him to." She blushed and looked away from him in embarassment. "I don't especially like the idea of anyone else touching you, either. I didn't like it when Tess touched you last night."

"Tess?" She looked back at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He looked awfully close to laughing at her. "She's family, Maria. You have nothing to worry about there."

"I know that. I just didn't like it." She noticed the bandage on his hand for the first time. "What happened?" she asked as she gently took it in her hands.

"I broke a glass. It's nothing to worry about, though."

"Poor Michael." She grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer for another kiss. Closing her eyes, she let her hands tangle in his hair. One hand of his kept a firm grasp on her waist, preventing her from falling as the sensations starting to overcome her, while she could feel Michael's other hand moving up her leg and starting to go up under her skirt. Everywhere he touched, she felt her body start to heat up and hum. She loved the feel of him on her. But reluctantly, she pulled back. "Michael, maybe we better go somewhere more private. You know, just in case we start glowing again."

He groaned and leaned his head on the wall next to her. Gathering strength, he finally turned to her. "Okay. There's something I wanted to show you anyway." He took her hand and led her over to the Jetta. "Let's go back to my apartment."

--------------------------------------------

When they reached the door to his apartment, Michael stopped before opening the door. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Can you ever just do something because I ask you to?" he asked, half in amusement, half in irritation.

"Probably not."

"Fine. I have a surprise to show you. So will you please close your eyes? Trust me."

She rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, then did as he asked. "Okay. But this had better be good."

He smiled and opened the door, then walked her in front of him, hands on her shoulders so that she didn't walk into anything. He stopped when they were standing in the middle of the room, and waved his hand, shutting the door behind them and igniting the candles he'd earlier placed around the room. "You can open your eyes now. Look."

Maria opened her eyes and gasped. By the light of the candles, she could see that someone had painted the ceiling of his living room to show a night sky full of stars. Only it wasn't the night sky one would see from Earth. There was a large golden moon, surrounded by five smaller ones forming a perfect circle around it. And the stars, while glowing and lovely, weren't the same constellations she'd seen on their trips to the desert. But wherever it was, it was gorgeous. The candlelight reflected in the stars so that they seemed as if they were truly shining down on them.

"Michael, it's beautiful," she whispered in awe. "It looks so real."

"It's the sky that you'd see on Antar." He stepped closer behind her and took a hand in his own, gently lifting it up to trace a pattern in the air, pointing. "That's the direction Earth is from Antar. When I was young, back then, I would sneak out at night sometimes and look at the stars. I was so sure that somewhere out there was the answer I was looking for, something that would make the pain go away." His voice dropped even lower as he dropped his head down to rest on her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Then I got older and forgot about that. But I was right. Because it was out there that I found you."

Maria had to close her eyes to stop from crying. This was just too much, too perfect. Here she was, standing safe in Michael's arms, listening to him saying the sort of things she'd always wanted to hear but had never dreamt she would. And she knew he meant it, because she could feel the immensity of his love for her through their connection. And he was offering her this little bit of his past, of Antar, trying to share with her both who he was now and who he had been there. It almost frightened her. It was dangerous for a person to be this happy.

"When did you paint this?" she whispered.

"Last night and this morning. I couldn't sleep." Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, Michael walked around in front of her, gently cupping her head in his hands and tilting her head back to look at him. "And I wanted to do this under the Antaran stars." He leaned down and kissed her almost fiercely, wanting her so much he could hardly control himself. Then he pulled away and stepped back a pace, letting go of her.

"Do what?" She was dazed, both from the kiss and from the sudden lack of him. But when she started to move closer, he held up a hand to stop her.

"Say the words you need to hear." He was getting nervous now. He never managed to get the words right. That was Max's area of specialty. But words were important to Maria, so he was going to give it a try.

But she was smiling at him and shaking her head gently. "I don't need to hear anything. Besides, I know that you hate it when things get goopey."

He had to laugh at that. "Yeah, I do. But this is important, so just listen, okay?"

"Okay." Maria was starting to get the feeling that something very serious and solemn was taking place.

"I love you, Maria. You know that. So much that it hurts sometimes. And I know that I've hurt you before, and I'll probably do it again, because I'm about as far from perfect as you can get and we both know that I screw things up lots of times. But I can promise you that I will never hurt you on purpose again. Never." He looked at her, willing her to understand that he meant this. Maria's love was the most precious gift he'd ever been given in either lifetime, and he was never going to do anything to destroy it.

"I know, Michael." She was smiling, and he could feel the happiness and joy flowing through her. And he could also feel her belief and trust in him. That was even more of a gift.

He reached out one hand and touched her forehead lightly. "Naamar. That means soul." His hand moved down to lightly touch her chest, over her heart. "Teel. That means heart." Both hands ran down her body, coming to rest at her waist. "Bla'val. That's body. Everything I am is yours, from now until forever." He let go of her again and looked at her hesitantly. "If you want me, that is."

If she wanted him? She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Of course I want you, spaceboy. Didn't we go through this last night?" She reached over and pushed back his hair to touch his forehead. "Naamar." She placed her hand over his heart. "Teel." Then both hands ran over his chest. She could feel his heart-rate start to speed up and wasn't sure if it was a response to her touch or to her words. Probably both. "Bla'val. You have my heart and soul, too. And my body," she added.

He held out his hands to her. "Then you accept me?"

Maria took a second. It was occurring to her that more was going on here than just Michael saying he loved her. This was almost like a ceremony. But what she had said was the simple truth - she was his just as much as he was hers. And she wouldn't have it any other way. So she placed her hands in his. Michael's hands tightened on hers, holding them close.

As soon as their hands met, they started to glow with a bright blue shine. That tingling feeling she remembered from last night started up again, making her gasp and smile. She saw that Michael had a matching smile on his face. She didn't think she'd ever felt happier in her whole life than at that moment.

"Meilya Edar Eith." Michael leaned down and kissed her hands, first one, then the other. Each touch seemed so much more intense than ever before. She wanted more. But first she was curious.

"What does that mean?" Maria was surprised to hear how husky her voice sounded. Of course, she was rather impressed that she could manage to speak at all.

Without looking up from their joined hands, he answered. "It means that your life comes first for me, above everything else." He looked up then, his whole soul in his eyes. "You mean more than anything else to me. Believe that. I never said those words before, not even as Tymrath. I couldn't. But I mean them now." The glowing was getting brighter as he spoke. It almost hurt to look through it, but Maria couldn't look away from his eyes. They were shining, too, reflecting the glow. And she understand what he wasn't saying. If the choice was ever asked of him in this lifetime that he'd had to make the last time around, his first loyalty was to her and no one else. It was almost too much, but it was the way he felt. And the least she could do was assure him that her love for him was that strong.

"Meilya Edar Eith," she whispered back to him. It wasn't really anything new, after all. Since that talk in the motel room off 285 South, Michael had been her priority. This was just formally stating what had been true for over a year now.

"Maria," he started, but then stopped. The glow grew even brighter at her words, changing from blue to a bright white. As it shone, blinding them both, they each had their strongest flash from the other ever. Only this flash was different from the earlier ones. They didn't see any actual events. Intead, it was like a pure jolt of how they felt about each other - all the love and passion, trust and concern. It all came rushing through them. When it ended, the glowing had stopped and the only light in the apartment was from the candles.

"Wow," Maria whispered.

"Yeah." Michael was looking at her with fascination, almost as if he'd never seen her before. "You are so beautiful."

She reached over and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Running her hands hungrily over his bare chest, she smiled. "So are you."

Groaning, Michael picked her up and placed her on his kitchen counter, knocking aside the papers previously there. He was tired of talking. Right now, he needed to touch her, to taste her kisses and feel her warmth. He couldn't wait any longer.

As he kissed her, she reached out and ran her hands up and down his chest. Reaching around to his back, she fastened her fingers through the belt loops in the back of his jeans and pulled him even closer. She didn't want there to be any distance between the two of them.

Without even taking his mouth from hers, Michael unbuttoned her shirt and tossed it aside. He was getting pretty good at that. She gave a small moan as she felt his undamaged hand on her bare stomach. It felt so good. As his hands moved upwards, his mouth started kissing its way down her throat. She arched back, almost overcome by the emotions and sensations. She's always felt that Michael communicated best non-verbally, but she'd had no idea of just how good non-verbal communication could feel.

He pulled down one bra strap and kissed her shoulder. She was reaching for the button on his jeans when a thought hit her. "Michael?"

"Umm?" came the muffled response from her shoulder.

"Did you lock the door?" There was no way she wanted to be interrupted this time.

He looked up at her in amusement and waved his hand in the direction of the door. She was pleased to hear the soft click of the lock. Then he grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Putting one arm around her, Michael proceeded to pick her up and start carrying her in the direction of the bedroom. She used this opportunity to place a soft kiss on his neck, then a more insistent one. Nothing ever felt as good as being able to touch him and to feel his love and pleasure in this as well as her own.

At the bedroom door, Michael waved his hand again and put the candles out.

They went inside.

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