It was week forty-four of the year. Michael swore. What the hell was that damn code again? Letter R, so that meant the second R they choose. Reno, Nevada. Locker 5D.

Reno was a large enough town to get lost in. It made it easier to meld into the crowds. Michael watched the bus station for a while. The lockers were on a back area near the restrooms. The place was crowded and it smelt. Another hour. It should be safe.

Michael tried to rest, to calm down. He couldn’t. He spent so many nights avoiding sleep, to not have to dream the nightmares that plagued him. Now he regretted it.

Maria. It was his connection to Maria. He needed that connection back to help him. To be able to think like she thinks. Normally, that very thought would have sent him in a bout of semi-hysterical laughing. Think like Maria. Damn. Where are you? Maria, where are you?

The letters and presents were heavy in his backpack. It was hard to want to deliver them. None of them deserved anything. They left them.

Michael couldn’t get that out of his mind. He and Isabel were the real ones to blame, but the others should have protested. They should have used that ‘great’ intellect they tossed about boastfully and with pride, and realized that anyone associated with them would be a target. There were warnings. Pierce trying to take Alex that one time. Jesse taken by the FBI agent Burns, whom he later killed. Imagination. They hadn’t thought of the possibility because they lacked imagination.

Maria once told him that the lack of imagination was the beginning of mistakes. First you stop imagining all the possibilities, and then suddenly things you never conceived begin to happen. Who’s fault would it be? It was important to be able to look at all possibilities, like playing chess.

Maria was good at that. She was such an hyperactive worrier, that she had all the most horrible of thoughts running through her mind at all times. She was the one that told Liz that Topolsky was an agent, a special agent searching for aliens. Liz took that scenario and came to his home with Hank to warn him. He thanked her for that, and felt a small amount of gratitude, but it was actually Maria he owed. It was her imagination that fretted out the possibility. No one ever accused Liz Parker of an over abundance of imagination. But wacky Maria had it running in her blood like a virus.

He wanted her back. He needed her back. Max was right, and he hated that. Maria was left behind because of his pride. He hadn’t forgiven her, and it separated her from the rest. She left him, wanted out of the alien vortex. He paid her back in kind. She wanted out, so fine, he made sure she stayed out. She had been right. Right to fear. Right to want something safe in her life, and she instinctually knew that whatever happened, no matter how hard she tried to have something of her own, she would have to give it up for him. His alien life was always bigger, more important.

All this time. A year later, and he was finally understanding what she was saying to him that day. She loved him. Too much. That she would lay down her life and dreams, everything for him. Let him ignore her. Risk her life. For him. One day she would wake a woman with no dreams, living off and vicariously through him. She would never be anything, but a shadow behind him. She was trying to find herself, a place she could be strong on her own.

It had hurt, and he carried it too long. They couldn’t talk because it always came back to hurt feelings. His and hers. His because she left him, and hers because he wouldn’t understand or even listen. That was the problem. He never listened to her, and she responded to his anger with defensive behavior too. They were a pair.

A pair of parents.

God. A father. He was going to be a father. He had never thought to be a parent. That was something outside his imagination. Maria was teaching him again. Teaching him to think outside the box.

~~~

Michael opened the door to the motel and entered without knocking. It took a moment for the inhabitants to realize he was standing in the doorway. None of them spoke. He’d only been gone just over two weeks, but it seemed longer. Perhaps made so by the fact they were uncertain that he would ever return.

“Michael!” Isabel was on her feet and hugging him. He returned the gesture half-heartedly. It…she, they…they were co-conspirators in the nightmare he just witnessed days ago. Hugging her, it felt…wrong. Actually made his skin crawl. Not her fault. Not really. But there it was, an automatic reaction.

Max stood apart watching. He wanted to hug Michael, but was uncertain of the reception. It was his fight with Michael that prompted his leaving. What should he say? How should he act? If he acted happy and relieved then Michael won the fight. He made them worry, proving some mythical idea in Michael Guerin’s head. If he was hard and biting, Michael might turn around and leave again.

Max stood on a precipice wavering, unwilling to make a move in case it was the wrong one. Damn, Michael Guerin. Nothing was worse than being a King who had no followers or none that cared about what he thought.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Max almost winced at the cold disapproving tone of his voice. He didn’t mean that. He didn’t. It came out that way. “We were waiting, and wasting time keeping to a schedule we had no idea that you would ever keep or even knew. Perhaps telling us before you left, or even pre-arranging a future meeting is too much in the area of considerate? A concept that obviously eludes you.”

Max ignored Kyle’s glare as the quiet man looked away. Why start this again? Isabel was hanging off a quiet Michael, her eyes narrowing in anger at Max, but then quickly changed to a pleading one. Liz was quiet, but she moved slightly behind Max in silent support, and for some reason that pissed Max off even more. He was wrong. He felt wrong, and his tone was nasty and judgmental. Liz acceptance of it without question was not the person he first met, the one that stood up for what was right. How could she not see that he was wrong? Call him on it?

“Always the boy who would be King, huh, Maxwell. Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.” Michael removed Isabel’s hand from him, and went over and hit Kyle on the arm. “Good to see you, Kyle.”

Max felt that more than any words Michael could speak. Michael was singling Kyle out as someone he respected and missed, ignoring the rest. Isabel stepped back feeling the slap herself.

Michael reached into his pack. “Your dad sent this.” Michael handed over a package and a letter which he knew also contained money. “He asked me to tell you that he really missed you.”

Kyle looked at the package in his hand and the envelope. His dad. Michael saw his dad. Closing his eyes, he wished that Michael had taken him with him. Roswell. Home. His father. How he would have loved to see it again. He hadn’t even realized how homesick he was until that very moment.

Kyle couldn’t help it. He quickly hugged Michael in gratitude.

Max frowned. “You went to Roswell?” Max didn’t wait for an answer. It was obvious. “Are you crazy? They could’ve picked you up. Followed you! Can you even imagine how much trouble we could be in if they caught us?”

Michael could. He knew. He had reason to know. Glancing over at Max, his eyes became darker, deeper and colder than death, he said nothing. Max could feel those eyes. The barely contained rage and anger. Stepping back, he in that moment realized that he couldn’t resort to past actions of rage and anger when losing his control, attacking Michael, hitting him, and expect Michael to just take it.

Michael would fight back. Max would lose more than pride. This time Michael would probably break his neck. The restrained violence was just on the surface, only a fool couldn’t see that. Retreat was the better part of valor.

Michael never took his eyes off Max. Reaching into his pack, he handed Isabel a package with letters inserted under the ribbon.

“Your mom said to remind you to sleep with your window a little opened at night during late fall and winter. It helps you breath easier. You always had a problem with the dry heat of the furnace.”

Isabel’s hands shook as she took what Michael was offering her. Home. Her parents. Her eyes flooded with tears. Home was something most people took for granted, and under appreciated until they left it. She missed her life, or what her life once could’ve been. Shaking, she sat down hard and just sat there staring at her care package from home.

“Michael…” She glance up at him from where she sat, tears slowly moving down her face. Words. How did you thank someone for risking their life to bring back a small piece of yours.

“No problem.” He couldn’t look at her. She…she wasn’t through crying. It was just beginning. He had a long story to tell, and it wasn’t going to be easy on her, on any of them. He hated himself right now, hated her, and hated the group of them, but hurting any of them wasn’t something he would take pleasure in doing.

“Michael?” Liz wrung her hands together. Hope. She was afraid to ask. Was there something there for her?

Michael nodded. Liz smiled tremulously, the smile mixing with tears. She took what Michael held out to her. Shyly she kissed him on the cheek in thanks.

“Your mom sent you a sweater, a dirty stuffed pink pig…”

“Horatio?” Liz said happily interrupting Michael.

“…your brushes and a book.” Michael continued to ignore Max. “Your parents also sent you and Max a wedding present.”

Liz looked at Max and smiled. A wedding present. They knew. Michael must have told them. She looked down at the package in her hand, and turned it over once or twice. They didn’t get to see her married. Raising and caring for her, her entire life, and they missed the most important day. She cheated them with her lies and silence. Guilt was a heavy weight on her back, and her thin body could barely take it.

Liz quickly searched the package and letters. Smiling she read…

Michael took the last of it out of his pack. Max’s. Placing it on the table, he dropped his empty bag, and went past Max into the bathroom. God he smelt. When it bothered him, then it had to be real bad.

Michael jumped in the shower, and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. Standing under the pounding of the spray, he stood with his head bent. It took a few moments before the trembling that started inside him finally shook itself outward. Michael leaned up against the cool porcelain tile as the hot water pounded on him like a water on stone. No amount of hot water could warm his bones, so he stood there shaking apart.

He stayed as long as there was hot water. Standing in front of the steamed up mirror with a towel around his waist, he reached with a washcloth and wiped away the fog that obscured his vision.

The hard gaunt faced stranger with a scruffy beard and dead eyes looked somewhat familiar. It was an older version of him. What he would’ve become had Maria never entered his life. Ravaged by loneliness, life with Hank, and isolation. Rubbing his face, he reached for a razor. Hoping it was Kyle’s or Max’s and not one of the dull ones the girls used, he scraped the whiskers away. He needed to look clean and presentable when he found Maria.

The mirror kept fogging, so he used the cloth and cleared it again and again. It was making him tired and sleepy. Almost like being hypnotized by a constant methodical movement, the circular sweep of his hand.

Go the distance. Find that connection you forgot. Find your heart. It will lead you.

“Maria?”

Her voice. It was so clear in his mind. Go the distance.

“Help me.”

Help yourself. Take the time.

Maria. Michael shut his eyes and stood in front of the mirror unmoving.

~~~

They were all hushed in their own corners, hoarding words from home, contact with a life left behind. Isabel searched for word from Jesse. Nothing. No mention of him from her parents. Jesse?

Liz reread the letter twice. It was short. Congratulating her on her marriage. A few reminders to take care, and how they loved her. Turning the letter, Liz searched for more. That was all there was. Not enough. Silence. Her parents were silent. Liz took an envelope that was formal that was in the small box of her things. Bushes. Horatio. A book. Even the sweater wasn’t hers. It was one of her mother’s. Frowning, Liz remembered that Horatio had been boxed away years ago, and the brushes too. They were brushes she used as a child. The book. It was a bible.

Opening the formal letter, she hoped for more. Money. Cash. It was their wedding present to her and Max. Her father must have sent the day receipts. It was a few thousand of different sized bills. No other note.

There was nothing from Maria. No mention of her. Liz looked around for Michael. She could hear the shower still running. He had been in there a long time. Guilt hit her again. Her parents. Maria. Lately she had been so caught up in running, being with Max, and finally getting what she wanted for three years, she forgot to think about Maria or her parents. It took knowing Michael had seen them to hit her that five months had gone by, and she was just waking up to the realization that she would never see them again.

Isabel was in a corner reading the letter from her mom and dad for the fourth time. They sent her makeup, a few odds and ends. She wished they sent her favorite pink sweater, angora. It was getting colder. Maybe her mom couldn’t. Maybe Jesse left for Boston and took her things. The letter was short, but full of love, and how much her parents missed her. They were pleased to know from Michael that all of them were well. The money was appreciated. Isabel suspected they sent Max the same.

Max’s package was smaller. More of a stuffed envelope instead of letter. Inside were newspaper clippings from over the past few months. Max couldn’t figure out why his parents sent him news stories. There was a flannel shirt in the package that belonged to his father, and cash. Her mother sent a small bracelet that belonged to her mother for Liz as a wedding present.

Max couldn’t figure it out. The letters were appreciated, but in some ways cold and distant. None of the items sent were personal items except Liz’s and even hers were from storage. The news clippings were something he’d need to study. Perhaps his father was trying to clue him in, give him a hidden message.

The most obvious solution would be to talk to Michael. Max looked at the closed bathroom door. Michael had been in there almost an hour. The shower turned off almost twenty minutes ago, but Michael still hadn’t emerged. What the heck was taking him so long?

Kyle’s letter was different. His dad wrote a long letter. More than one. It was jammed with gossip about friends, sports, and news about fishing. Kyle smiled appreciating how much trouble his dad went to to make him feel part of his life still. Then came a long serious letter. Kyle read it, glancing up at the others at times, but quickly down again to hide his face. Jim told him that Michael would explain, but that he, Kyle must never return to Roswell or New Mexico. Never.

The package had a picture of him and his dad, and old one of his father holding him as a child, and even a picture of his mother. An insulated flannel shirt, extra socks, and a box of condoms. Kyle laughed at that. His dad was such a guy. On the bottom of the package was a box of crackers, a can of cheese under pressure, and a small salami. God, Love you Dad. Kyle quickly hoarded his food supplies. This was for the next ball game he got to watch. He would watch, eat snacks while wearing his dad’s insulated flannel shirt, and pretend his father was with him. Thanksgiving. He would do it on Thanksgiving.

~~~

“Maybe we should knock?” Liz said biting a nail and staring at the bathroom door. “What do you think, Max?”

“I don’t know. He’s probably tired. Maybe we should let him sleep, and ask him questions later.”

“I can’t wait. I want to know about Jesse. And where is Maria? Did she refuse to come with him this time? Maybe she left Roswell. Took a recording contract?”

Kyle watched them all quietly. “Maybe Jesse and Maria left together.”

Isabel turned on him. “That is a terrible thing to say!” Kyle was her friend. What the hell was up with him? “Jesse…he wouldn’t do that. Not while married to me.” Isabel’s stomach hurt. There were the beginnings of a buzz behind her eyes. This was going to be a really bad headache. She could feel it. “Jesse and Maria hardly know each other. What you’re suggesting is preposterous.”

The bathroom door opened, and Michael finally emerged. He was cleaned shaved, his hair was toweled, but wet, and he was wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Ignoring the entire group, he went over to the sofa that was too small for his length and laid down anyway.

“Michael,” said Max looking at the others. He turned back and Michael was already asleep. No one moved. None of them had ever seen anyone fall asleep that quickly before. Michael had to be exhausted. Kyle took a blanket and covered the sleeping man. They were quiet for the remainder of the night watching him sleep.

Max took the time to read the articles. Each article made him more upset than the last. It was a tale of the destruction of families…stolen children. A movie producer in Hollywood named Cal missing mysteriously. There were articles on problem in New York City, and a picture of a man that looked very similar to Michael, dead. Rath. Who ever were after him hadn’t been able to take him alive. What the hell was going on?

Max brooded watching Michael sleep.

~~~

“Okay, explain it again.”

Michael scowled at her and then sighed. “Maria, its just hockey, not rocket science. It’s not that hard.”

Maria squinted at the television. “How do they keep track of that little thing? It sure can move on the ice.”

“That’s what makes it so interesting.” Michael said proudly.

“Uh huh.” Maria looked thoughtful for a second, and then looked at Michael in great suspicion. “How do you feel about car racing?”

“Like the stock car or Grand Prix?”

“Yeah,” said Maria with an ‘I think’ under her breath. What the hell was Grand Prix?

“Awesome! Love the speed, and tragic at times when they crack up, it must be exhilarating all that speed.”

“Oh God!” Maria said dramatically.

“What?”

“Michael, they just go around in circles.”

Michael’s face creased in confusion then irritation. “Fine. So what’s your idea of a great sport?”

“Shopping.”

Maria waited for it. Michael grabbed her, and they were rolling around on the sofa with Maria laughing trying to avoid Michael’s mouth on her neck making loud obnoxious noises.

“Where are you?”

Maria didn’t say. She continued to talk about things as if he never asked.

“Where are you?”

“Here. I am here.” Her voice became hollow. “I am still here.”

She was fading…

“Maria!” Michael sat up in the dark.

The room was quiet. The others had tired of waiting for him to wake, and finally they went to bed. The air conditioner was on low, and despite it being fall, it was still warm in the room. Reno. Michael rubbed his face.

I am still here.

“I miss you.” Michael laid back down and stared at the dark ceiling. He needed to do what he came for, and quickly. He was wasting time. He had too many miles to cover.

But where to start? How the hell did she get out of Roswell alone?

~~~

“You’ve got everything?”

Maria nodded, not looking up at Mr. Whitman. She couldn’t. Tears. They were always on the edge of her control, ready to spill. Hormones. She was a mess.

“Maria…” The older man suddenly looked gray. He didn’t want to lose her too. Alex was his son, and too much to ever replace. Over the past two days, they kept Maria safe in their house, as Linda and he worked to prepare her a way out of Roswell. They put together clothing and money, and they were giving her a car. As soon as she could, she was to have it taken to Topeka, Kansas, to a factory for the car. The cover story was that his car was being refitted with a new engine. larger. The factory all ready had a work order, and they were awaiting the car’s delivery.

Maria looked up at the two watching her carefully. She hugged them both hard, and for a moment held Alex’s mother so close. For Alex. And for Amy. She had slept in Alex’s room for the past two nights, and it seemed at times that he was still there. They had kept it exactly as it was before he died. Cleaned. Dusted. Swept. The Whitmans were living with the ghost of their son. Maybe finally they could let him go.

“I wanted to ask one last favor…” Maria swallowed hard. It was difficult. “I want to know if it was possible that you would be my baby’s godparents? I…I understand if you don’t want to, but it’s just that I would’ve asked Alex, and…”

“Yes.” They both said it at the same time without hesitation. “You’ll let us know when the time comes. You’ve got the address?” Mr. Whitman asked.

Maria nodded. Mr. Whitman had set up a P.O. Box in Las Cruces under the name Alex Whitman. If Maria needed anything, or needed to contact the other parents or Jim, she could send it there. The Whitmans would deliver it to them. There was no way for the Whitmans to contact Maria, so they told her to look in the back of Alex’s favorite music magazine. They would leave a messages for ‘The Whits’. The publication was only a monthly one, so Maria only had to look once a month.

It was late. Three in the morning. Time to go. Mrs. Whitman was driving Maria in the car as far as Las Cruces. Maria was to drop her off at her sister’s place and go on. The two women stood at the car looking back at the tall lean man. He raised his hand in goodbye. Maria nodded, and quickly got into the car not looking back again.

Roswell was over. That chapter in her life finally ended. There was nothing left to keep her there, just memories. So many bad ones obscured a lifetime of good ones.

It was around nine in the morning that she finally pulled up to the Dupree estate. This was where her journey could end. Laurie Dupree. Liz wrote about Laurie and her connection to Michael. It was a question of whether they had already got to her, were coming, or even waiting. Options were few, but Laurie was another loose end. Maria couldn’t leave her dangling.

“May I help you?”

Maria paused for a moment. What to say? Were they there, waiting to reacquire her? A moment of pure terror and fear ripped through her body. Maria closed her eyes, and breathed hard to calm herself. No fear. No fear. Be brave.

“Yes. I am looking for Laurie Dupree.”

“Is Ms. Dupree expecting you?”

Maria laughed charmingly. “No. I hope not! I was just passing through, and wanted to give her news about her…brother, Michael.”

There was a pause at the other end, and Maria’s body covered in sweat. She was about to turn the car around, when suddenly the gate opened. Go or flee? Go or flee? Maria’s hand tightened on the wheel, she took her foot off the brake and slowly proceeded.

A young woman came out of the front door.

Laurie.

“Maria?” Laurie’s voice was filled with surprise and delight. “Maria!”

Maria found herself in a warm hug. She returned it and for a moment forgetting about everything, except human contact. Then memories flooded back, of her and Michael in a tree, spying on the Dupree estate.

“We have to go inside. Now.”

Laurie pulled back. Seeing the fear in Maria’s face, and taking in the pale thin face, she nodded pulling Maria into the house with her.

“Jenny, could you have Carl come around and take Ms. Maria’s car around to the garage, and have her bags brought in?”

“Yes, Ms. Laurie.”

The girls waited until the maid left, and Laurie took Maria’s cold hand and led her into the study.

“Michael? Something happened to Michael?”

Maria nodded. She was at her ends, too tired to walk a step more. Endurance was bled from her body, and she couldn’t speak for a moment. No time. No time to be weak. Hysteria later, speed now.

“There is very little time. I have to tell you a story, a hard story, and then we have to decide what to do. For you and for me.”

Laurie grabbed Maria’s hands hard. “Maria, what happened?”

“They killed my mother.”

Laurie’s eyes filled with tears and her hands shook in Maria’s hands. “Aliens?”

“No. Worse. FBI Special Unit.” Maria wiped her wet cheeks and tried to get it back under control. “They are picking up anyone associated with Michael and the others. Any one they could deem exposed.”

Laurie stepped back. “I’m…they would want me.” Laurie said it so matter of fact, that Maria could only nod.

“Yes. They would want to know why you are special. More about the chromosomal anomaly that made you a target, and your grandfather, Charles Dupree, a donor of DNA. They would want you for bait.”

Laurie led Maria to a sofa, and the girls sat close to each other. “How much time is there?”

“Not much. Maybe none. I escaped. They’ll be looking for me.”

Laurie tried to remain calm. “It’s safe right now, but you’re right. They will come when they get desperate. Any small thread is better than a cold trail. Lets eat breakfast, and you can tell me everything,” Laurie looked at Maria, and in that moment Maria saw the woman Laurie was becoming and just how much she reminded her of Michael. “Maria, I mean everything.”

~~~

Michael was on his second breakfast. Food. It hadn’t been big on his list of things to do lately, and his trip from Roswell to Reno, he ate next to nothing. They all waited for him to finish. When he first started, Max started asking him questions, but the best he could get were patented Michael grunts. So after he finished, Michael sat back and drank his coffee.

“Now?” Max said with barely contained restrained impatience.

Michael nodded. It was going to be hard to hear, and harder to tell. Time to get it over.

It took a while, and when he was finished Kyle was away from the group sitting on the side of the bed closest to the door, looking out the window. Liz was crying softly, and Isabel was crying harder, deeper, and it hurt to hear her. She kept whispering over and over that it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.

Max just sat there, pale and staring at Michael. Shock. Disbelief. Horror. It was all on his face. Etched. In just the time it took for Michael to tell them what had happened after they left, Max had aged over ten years. His face showed it. Haggard and drawn, he suddenly looked too thin. Hardly a King.

“I never…” Max couldn’t finish it. He couldn’t. Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander to the past five months. They had been on the run, but it felt more like an adventure. A big road trip, with him marrying Liz, and them laughing and enjoying being together unhindered. All he could see was all the times Michael sat in the back brooding, not talking, and Isabel so unhappy, and Kyle silent. He and Liz had talked, laughed and looked at each other with carefree happy faces. They made a special code all their own to talk about how they were going to find time alone and for sex.

Their friends paid. Everyone paid for them. No one was happy. Only he and Liz, but that was gone now, ripped away by reality. Future Max. Liz had finally told them all about what his future self had said. That they being together ended the world, because once they were together, they became so wrapped up in each other…they ignored everything else, everyone else. That everyone they knew paid and died because of them. It was supposed to be different. Destiny was changed. Or was it?

He was with Liz, they were idiotically happy, and nothing meant anything except that they could be together. Not their parents suffering in the White Room. Not Jesse dying. Not Maria being tortured and now lost and alone. Why should it? It hadn’t mattered that Alex died. All that ever mattered was that he, Max, had Liz, and Liz had him. Everyone else could go to hell.

And they did.

His pride. His selfish self-interest brought them to this. He was so busy worrying about himself and Liz, he never once thought about those they left behind who had been in direct contact with them. He never thought about how interested the Special Unit would be in humans who mated with aliens. Thinking back, only a fool wouldn’t have thought of it.

Max rubbed his face and rested his elbows on the table. He should’ve of thought of it. He should have known. The others couldn’t know. But he should have. The White Room. He lived through it. Experienced it. He personally lived face to face with the hate and fear on Pierce’s face, the disregard Pierce had for innocents associated with him. Pierce had once threatened to kill Liz. He knew. He knew there was no safe for those associated with the aliens. No one.

How could he forget that? How? Max hung his head in shame. He forgot it because he didn’t want there to be a reason why he couldn’t just leave with Liz. He didn’t want there to be anymore responsibility outside of him and her. So he left them behind.

Maria was his friend for over three years. No one risked more than her, and had been as loyal. She was there practically from the first moment Liz knew. And all she did, all the times she put herself out there for them, it never meant anything. They never once thanked her, or gave her consideration. That was all given to Liz. Why? Because he was King. And Liz was his chosen mate, and Maria…well she was just associated by being Liz’s friend, or Michael’s girlfriend. Nothing more. She had deserved more. Jesse he might excuse himself of, since Jesse was virtually still a stranger only knowing about them for a few months, but not Maria. She wasn’t a strange. She was someone to them, or she was supposed to be.

Max had all those thoughts running through his mind, and for once, since he left Roswell and married Liz Parker, he couldn’t look at his wife. He didn’t even want to look at himself.

~~~

Liz’s entire body hurt. Crying softly, she thought of her parent’s care package, how impersonal it was, and how everything they sent was from storage. The FBI had taken her entire room. They found the journal. The journal. Liz shut her eyes and groaned in pain. Michael had been right. Long ago when he stole the journal, he implied that it was dangerous to keep a written record. She, at that time was an idiot. She not only kept a journal, but she sat in the Crashdown writing in it, like it wasn’t a big deal. Great guardian of the alien secret was she. Max had thought it was interesting that she was keeping a journal about him, and them. He was flattered, and god help her, she had felt special too when Michael gave it back and told her that she gave him another reason to envy Max Evans.

That had made her feel special. Like somehow Michael Guerin thought she was worth knowing and wanted her in some way. Wanted her enough to envy Max, and it shamed her to realize that she always believed that Michael had a thing for her, and only settled for Maria.

Liz cried even harder. Her thoughts betrayed her. They didn’t do her justice. Maria wasn’t second best in Michael’s life. She had been everything to him. Maria had been Liz’s best friend for a lifetime and a sister, but it was hard to admit how satisfying it had felt to be thought important by the aliens, when Maria wasn’t. She remembered how happy she had felt when the fortune teller told her that Max would chose love, and that her love was special…destiny, while Maria was fretting over having only forty-eight hours of happiness with Michael, and Alex was doomed to be only a friend. She was proud and happy that she was the special one.

It always came down to that. Being special. Feeling special. She had accused Maria of being jealous because her life wasn’t in danger. It wasn’t that. But at the time she remembered how she felt being important enough to be taken, and how Max had proposed to her. It was embarrassing to realize how smug and self-important she had felt. Queen. Max was King, and that made her Queen. Important. Treasured. The best. Special. Liz cringed as she could hear her own voice saying, “Max is King.” Oh God, how nasty and smugly self-serving that had to sound to the others, like she, Liz Parker wouldn’t be with a nobody, and of course her love was King.

Liz sunk her head to her knees and rocked herself a little. Even her parents. A lifetime of love, and thinking back to all the lies, the disregard and disdain. She made them send her to Vermont, and despite the cost came home immediately throwing away that money as if it was nothing. But, she had Max Evans back, and that was all that had mattered. Liz rolled over on the bed and hugged her legs tight to her body, crying. There was so much more. So many other actions that now seen in hindsight shamed her. When did she change? Maybe she had always been that prideful and self-centered.

All the times she could name self-less acts, she could also name rewards she received because of them. Was a self-less act just a step in greater rewards? Had she done them to promote her image of being a good person? Make the aliens think she was deserving of their gratitude, so she could stay important not only in Max’s life, but theirs?

Her parents interrogated and tested. Her mother almost dying from a heart attack, and now sick and weak with a strained heart. Alex dead, and forgotten almost as if he hadn’t existed. Maria tortured and left alone. Slapped down by all of them, told she was nothing, and left to bear the brunt of what they were. Even Tess. She was their convenient scapegoat. When things went wrong, it was easy to blame Tess for everything, because even if accidentally, Tess had killed Alex, she had tried to kill the others by taking them home to Antar.

But how much that went wrong was really Tess, and how much was her own fault? How often did they scream ‘mindwarp’ to explain away their bad choices, ones they didn’t want to be held accountable for? Supposedly Michael and Isabel were destined to be together, someone like them, and not once did they even consider Destiny. Not once. Not even a kiss, or a look. Nothing. Never.

That was because Michael was in love with Maria, and though he couldn’t have her, for him there could never be anyone else. And for Isabel her heart was free of feelings for Michael so that when Jesse came, she had no problem loving him. All that stood in her way was her feelings for Alex.

Liz couldn’t think about it. She didn’t want to, because she was afraid. The answer might be that she and Max were to blame. Guess it didn’t matter what world or timeline they followed, their friends would always be forgotten. Even Future Max came back to warn her, to change things. Did he mention Maria or Alex? No. Just Michael, Liz and Isabel. What a nice position she had created for herself. Her and the aliens. An exclusive club. Maria. Where are you? Do you still want to know me? Will you ever forgive what I became, or did you always see me as this monster I am?

Liz cried some more. Guilt and a burdened conscience was a terrible thing. It made a person rethink what came before from a very unique view. Liz hated herself.

~~~

Isabel hated Liz, too. Jesse. She and Liz could share the blame. Liz wrote down all the truths about Jesse killing Agent Burns. All the details of him and her disposing of the body. How little did they regard Jesse knowing he killed. He killed one of them. Would they have let him go once they knew he was still human if they hadn’t know about Burns. It was hard to say.

Yes, she hated Liz Parker. Couldn’t even think of her as Liz Evans. She would always be Liz Parker. Yes, she hated Liz Parker with a passion, but not as much as she hated herself. No. The greater hate had to belong on her own shoulders. Isabel searched her purse. A picture. She had a picture. Smiling slightly through the tears she held a picture of her and Jesse on their wedding day. Jesse. Honey. There had to be a mistake. They left him behind. He was still alive.

Isabel laid down on the bed and cleared her mind. Touching his face, her fingers rushing across the picture, she tried to dream walk him. Jesse. Let me in. Let me in. Let me in. It was a mantra over and over in her head. Isabel tried for what felt like hours. Why hadn’t she tried earlier? Five months. She should’ve visited him. She would’ve known he was in pain. Tortured. Captured. She would’ve recognized the White Room.

Isabel calmed for a moment. Why hadn’t she tried to reach him?

Because she was afraid.

Afraid. Fear. She left him. Told him to forget her. What if he did? What if she walked in his dreams to find they were full of a new woman, someone not her? Worse. Isabel had been afraid that Jesse hated her. Regretted knowing her. Loving her. Marrying her.

How could he not? It cost him his life. A painful death.

Her parents. Alex. Maria. Maria’s mother. Jesse.

How many more were to pay for what they were? Isabel sat up and looked over at her brothers staring at each other. The room was silent. Kyle wasn’t talking, but she knew he was thinking of his dad. How could he not?

~~~

“Amy, Maria’s mom. Did she…did Maria get to say goodbye?” Isabel asked quietly.

Liz just cried harder. Amy DeLuca. She had put that one casualty out of her mind. She couldn’t even think about it. How could Maria ever forgive the loss of her mother? Oh God! Liz suddenly knew why her parents sent her the bible. She had strayed far from where she once had been. Human. They knew that once she heard the truth, what had happened to all of them, to Maria, and to Amy, that she would feel so bereaved that she would need something to help her through. They sent her a bible because they couldn’t help her. Not anymore.

The wedding gift. That was it. Nothing more. She was never to return home, or contact them again. She had long ago chose Max Evans over everything. The lives of her friends, over her parents, and even over her own dreams. She had made her decision, and it was Max. Married, she now had all that she sacrificed for…she had Max Evans. The ashes and deaths, the pain and betrayals. That was the cost others paid so her ambitions could be realized. Too much. The price was too much.

Suddenly Liz realized the truth that eluded her all this time. When Max Evans healed her, it changed her, and not for the better…she hadn’t traded up. She hadn’t become superior…just less human. Rather, she had traded down to something less than human. All this time, she thought being alien was what was important, what made a person important. She had been wrong. Her lack of insight came with a high price. Being human was more. The aliens had nothing to recommend them.

~~~

Michael heard Isabel’s question. So it was time.

The initial horror and shock was warring off. Now they would want questions answered.

“Yes. She was there when Amy died. Maria stood beside the pod chamber and watched them burn her mother’s body. She watched as the wind carried her mother’s remains away.”

Cruel. Michael felt cruel as he watched Isabel’s face become grayer, and her eyes big in her head, dominating.

“The children. The Christmas children.” Max said. His voice was dry and brittle.

“They’re gone. Taken. All of them. Dead? I’m not sure. But they will be watched to see if they turn like Liz. If they do, they will be tested.”

“They were better off dying of cancer like nature intended. It might have been hard to see or watch, but at least it would’ve been natural and their families would have their bodies. Now those families will always look for their lost children, and never know why they were taken.” Kyle said bitterly.

Brody’s daughter was one of those children who would be taken. Max looked down at his hands. His intentions had been honorable. Or had they? Even Liz had questioned his motives. He changed the natural course of things to assuage his guilt. What would he have to do to feel better about Jesse, Amy, their parents, and Maria?

Some days it sucked being an alien. Today was one of those days, and it looked like that was going to remain true for some time.

~~~

“My dad? You’re sure he is safe?” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Homesick. Lost. His dad taken. He should’ve been there. He was all his dad had. Him. No one else. He should’ve stayed, but if he had they would’ve taken him because of the journal. That damn journal.

“They think so.” Michael said kindly. Kyle hadn’t signed up for any of this. He didn’t want to know the aliens, and for a long time hated them, or specifically Max Evans. For an entire year he stayed clear of them, except for Tess, who also hurt him. So far the alien team was looking pretty grim in the category of movers and shakers, people able to make friends and influence others to great heights.

Kyle shook his head. “That’s not good enough! He needs to leave. Now!”

Michael finally got up from his chair and went over to Kyle. Putting his hand on his shoulder, he crouched down. “It has to be. It is his choice. Their choice. He has protectors. The Evans and Parkers. They are a group now. Taken our place. And as much as we kept them out of our lives, they are keeping us out of theirs.” Kyle nodded reluctantly as Michael stood up and looked at the group.

“Feel bad. We deserve it. Our…we should have thought the situation out from all angles, not just from ours. We are to blame, but that is over now. Our lives in Roswell are over. There is nothing for us there anymore. They asked me to tell you the truth, not to punish you, or hurt you. They wanted you to know, to teach you that actions have consequences, and someone has to be accountable. But what they really want us to realize is that we can never go home. Never. Roswell is off limits to us. There we can only bring more death and pain. That is the burden we’ll all have to carry.”

“Maria, they really don’t know what happened to her?” Liz asked, her once friend’s name sticking in her throat. It was almost as if she was afraid to mention the name in case Michael lost control and struck out at her.

“She left.” Michael went to stand looking out the window. “Or they hope she did. No one wanted to think or believe that she was recovered by the Special Unit. That would’ve meant that Amy’s death was meaningless. They wouldn’t even entertain the thought.” Michael turned and looked at them. “And neither will I. I believe she is out there, waiting for me to find her.” Michael’s voice was thick with emotion, but his face remained stone cold. “Find her and my child. My fault. I should have swallowed my broken pride and let her come with me like she wanted. But this has a lesson too. If Maria hadn’t been left behind when would any of us ever worried about Roswell and those left behind? Maybe never? And we would’ve gone bumbling along, as always leaving how much destruction in our path?”

“It’s not like that, Michael. We’re not bad people!” Max said getting to his feet.

“What is bad, Max? What is evil? Is it the intent or the outcome?” Michael shook his head. “I can’t say. You’re the smart ones. It’s a question maybe you need to decide for yourself. I never meant any harm or pain, but it was what I caused. Does the fact I never intended it excuse me? And what about Tess? All she wanted was to be one of us. She was never let in the door, and Alex was never her intention. She didn’t want to hurt him, and when she did, she desperately tried to cover it up. And when it was apparent that you would never love her, never stop thinking of Liz, she decided to follow Nasedo’s plan and turn us over to Kivar. Where exactly did she turn evil, because I’m not sure she started out that way. But for me, she will always be evil.”

Liz was quiet. Her actions at the time were done with the best of intentions. She meant no harm, and really, genuinely wanted to do good, help and protect the aliens. It was hard to know when her own self-interest came into play, or if it hadn’t always been there under the conscious surface, subconsciously motivating her actions. Did that make her evil like Tess? She couldn’t say. Maybe only Maria could.

All she knew was when it came down to columns of checks and balances, of Maria and Alex’s lives against those of the aliens, or specifically Max, she had weighed in on the alien side, and left both Alex and Maria swinging in the wind. Her life long friends, a sister and a brother were sacrificed to a greater importance, her own selfish heart. She had been much more concerned about Max, Michael and Isabel’s safety that not once did she worry about endangering those who had loved her all her life. Strangers before family. It was a very poor show.

“So what do we do now?” Isabel asked looking at Michael.

“You’re asking the wrong person. The line is ‘what do we do now, Max’. Remember, I’m not King, but I can tell you that I’m not no damn loyal subject either. My life is my own.” Michael looked at the silent group. “I’m getting my life back, the life I want and carelessly threw away because of my pride. I’m finding Maria and my child.”

Max shook his head. “She…how do you know she wants to be found by you? How could she ever forgive you? Us. Any of us? Maria has suffered enough for knowing us. You were the one talking about actions, intentions, and such. You can lead them to her, to your baby. That is assuming she is out there at all and not in some damn military laboratory being prodded and observed. Your intentions will be good to find her, but the outcome could be really bad.”

“So you think I should just leave them out there alone? Like you left Zan?”

Max bit back a retort to that jab. He spent a year looking for his son. Wasting his life and making Liz’s miserable, hurting his parents, exposing Cal, and all that to give up and forget his son. It was a twist of fate in the form of Tess that brought his son back in his life, and now that was bad too. They had his son. Zan was in the hands of the government, lost out there somewhere.

“I’m finding my child, and I’m keeping my family safe. No more leaving.” Michael went over to where his few earthly possession resided and began packing a bag. “I don’t know how long it’s going to take to find her. But I will. I’ll meet you on the Ides of March. March 15th. Until then, do what you want, what you have to do.”

Michael stopped and looked at Max. “What?”

Max just shook his head. They lost too much already. Michael gone. It was hard to conceive.

“I can understand you wanting to find your child, but…”

Michael interrupted Max. “No. No, you don’t understand. You think this is because she is pregnant? Then think again. I feel Maria. Not my child. I didn’t even know I was going to be a father until they told me. If Maria weren’t pregnant, and out there, I’d still go find her. This is about her and me. Nothing else. The baby is just icing on the cake.”

“How will you find her? Where would you look?” It was crazy. Michael was going to expose himself trying to find Maria.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll need a picture of her.” Michael looked at Liz. “I don’t have one, so can I have one of yours?”

Liz’s face went red. “I…um, I’m sorry, Michael. I don’t have a picture of Maria. Not with me. We took off so unexpectedly that I never got a chance to go back, and get my things, the journal, or even a picture. My bag was in the back rehearsal room, and we left without stopping.”

Liz hadn’t even realized that she didn’t have a picture. Not one of Maria, Alex or her parents. Nothing. She had orphaned herself. All she had in the world was Max.

“I have one.” Isabel said. She dug in her purse and searched through the small album she carried. Liz looked over in wonder, and more than a little upset. Isabel had a picture of Maria? And she did not. “It’s in my wedding pictures.”

Michael came over as Isabel faltered over pictures of Jesse. He noticed himself sitting with Kyle in some pictures with Maria sitting there bored and ignored. A picture of him dancing with Isabel while Max and Liz danced. Frowning, he realized he never asked Maria to dance that night. She sat there and watched everyone else. Max with Liz, Isabel with Jesse, and Isabel with everyone else. It was another thing he needed to fix.

Neglect. Thinking back to the whole bowling date fiasco, suddenly it was no longer a question of why she broke up with him, but why it took her so long. It didn’t matter anymore. None of it did. That was in the past. This was about the future. He would find her, and they would go from there. Together or not, he needed her to know that

“Here.” Isabel handed him a picture of Maria. “This is a good one.”

Michael looked at it. Maria was sitting at a table alone with the floral centerpiece in front of her. She had her hands crossed looking out at the dance floor when the photographer caught her. Her face was sad and wishful, but the picture was of her alone, and a clear picture. Good for showing around. Isabel was right though. She looked incredible. Beautiful. So achingly beautiful.

“Thanks.”

Michael went to stand up, but Isabel stopped him. “Find her. Find her for me too. I can’t think of her alone…not after Jesse.” Michael nodded.

“Where are you going to start,” Kyle asked. He was strangely silent through it all.

“I…” Michael thought about it for a moment. “I’m going to reach down inside me, search for that place that feels Maria, and make a connection.”

Michael paused suddenly.

Go the distance. Find that connection you forgot. Find your heart. It will lead you.

She said that to him once, gave him that advice. Reach down, inside and find whatever it is inside that passes as a heart, and go and make a connection…

“Laurie. She went to Laurie.”

~~~

Michael was leaving.

They watched as he finished packing, and quietly Kyle got ready. Prepared. On this trip he had very little to do. He watched Max and Liz all disgustingly cooing at each other, and he served at a wet nurse for Isabel. There was little else expected. He wasn’t alien yet, no visions or super strength powers, just Kyle. He helped drive the van at times, but for the most part, he just watched the scenery and wished he was home.

“They might be there, watching.” Max said. “Laurie was in the journal. Her connection to you and your human donor. They pulled everyone over the last five months. It looked like it took about three months after we left before the reports started coming in, but they got everyone.”

“Maria was gone after a month. She didn’t wait around. I have to believe she got to Laurie first, and they are together safe somewhere.” Michael’s gut hurt.

How much more guilt was he going to need to carry? He exposed Laurie, and the damn Parker Journal documented it. He had promised her he would stay in touch and over a year later, she still hadn’t heard from him. Just when danger was looming, and he needed her. And he did need her. He needed her to be safe and with Maria, or at least knowing where Maria was.

“You could be walking into a trap.”

Michael ignored Max. Yes. He could.

It was time to decide what mattered most. His own life and safety, or those he loved. Always he had a thought on keeping Maria safe, but mostly, that was from him, and his scary alien side. He did a get job of that too, yelling at her, threatening her with death, telling her to shut up, and then kicking her out of her own car. Failure. From so many sides, he couldn’t even keep track anymore.

It was time. There was no more time to waste being dark and edgy, brooding and nasty in a corner, letting his youth be a large part of the excuse. He had a mission again. A goal. He was on a quest to find his family, and he hadn’t had that kind of direction in a long time.

This time would be different though. He wouldn’t be impulsive and rash in his need to find. He would take the time. Be careful. No mistakes. He could afford to lead the Special Unit to Maria. It was time.

“I’ll see you in whatever town that March 15th falls on. If I’m not there, never expect to see me again.” Michael grabbed his jacket, and backpack.

At the door, he noticed someone at his shoulder. Kyle.

“Where you going?”

Kyle pulled his jacket on over his dad’s insulated flannel shirt and shouldered his bag. “With you.”

“Kyle…” Isabel’s shocked voice rose over the protest of the others.

“My choice. I haven’t had a real purpose but to follow Max and Liz on their mission to save people from purse snatchers, and whatever else Liz envisions. Well, Michael has a mission now, and why should he go alone? I have something invested in helping to find Maria. My dad. It is what he would do if he could, so I’m going in his place, and maybe along the way finding my own purpose.”

Michael nodded. He could respect that. Opening the door, he gestured for Kyle to go first. Looking back one last time, Michael left.

~~~

They watched the Dupree estate for three days. It appeared that no one was home. No cars. Just one maid who came and went a few times a day. There was no sign of Bobby or Meredith Dupree, and none of Laurie.

“What do you think?” Kyle asked. Looking around, expecting to see FBI behind every shrub, Kyle watched Michael.

“We go in. We’re never going to learn anything from here, and the security system is still on. Maria and I broke in once, and were caught. I’d rather not be arrested by the police.”

“Then lets do it.” Kyle took a deep breath. This was hard.

Standing at the gate, Michael pushed the button. Kyle watched the security camera turning towards them.

“Can I help you?”

Michael turned and looked into the security camera, but before he could say anything the gate clicked and began to open.

“Come on up.”

Kyle and Michael shared a look. They were expected. This couldn’t be good. They slowly walked towards the main house, and though the thought of running away occurred to them, they did not turn back. There was no back. Just forward.

The maid opened the door.

“Mr. Charles! I was expecting you.” Kyle looked at Michael who just shrugged. They entered the house, and Kyle made a small whistling noise under his breath. Nice place to stem from Guerin. A far step away from that trailer with Hank.

“I…Carmen?”

“No, Sir. Jenny.”

“Right. Jenny.” Michael looked around suspiciously. “Where is Laurie?”

“Ms. Laurie isn’t here, Sir. She went on a long trip. I was ordered to shut up the house, but wait unless you came. She and Ms. Maria went on a long trip…they didn’t say where. I suspect perhaps Europe.”

“Europe?” Kyle groaned. That meant passports. Foreign countries.

Michael was too busy trying to get all the information he needed to worry about where they went exactly. “When did they leave?”

“Over four months ago.” Jenny took both men’s coats. “I will have the cook prepare you something to eat. It is just me, the cook, and Carl left. By the way, Sir. Carl took care of Ms. Maria’s car.”

“Car?” Kyle and Michael said at the same time.

“Yes, Sir. She asked it to be delivered to a factory in Kansas. Carl had the local dealership send it. Was everything okay?”

“Perfect. Thank you.”

They followed Jenny into the dining room as she went to have something made, and get them drinks. Kyle collapsed in a chair. This place was incredible compared to the small cramped house he and his father shared. And how far it was above the van was not even worth mentioning.

Kyle had to admit that since they left Reno a few days ago, his heart had been lighter. More carefree. Now this was an adventure. Full of danger, mystery, and intrigue. This was fun.

“So who is this Charles person, and why are you Lord of the Manor?”

Michael pointed to a painting on the wall in the dining room. It was him. Or very close to him, in an older version.

“Charles Dupree. My grandfather, I guess you can say.”

Kyle just stared at the painting, then at Michael. Amazing. They looked the same.

“I hope this is okay, Mr. Charles.” Jenny started putting out food and bread. Kyle started to reach for some of it, but Michael glared at him so he held back.

“It looks perfect, Jenny. Thank, Cook for us.” Jenny smiled at him.

“Is there anything else, Sir?”

Michael looked at Kyle, and then appeared unconcerned as he asked, “Just one thing. Did anyone come by looking for Ms. Laurie in the past few months?”

Jenny seemed to be thinking about it for a moment. “I believe so, Sir. There were some men. They came about ten days after Ms. Laurie and Ms. Maria left. Carl dealt with them. He talked to them at the gate, informed him that Ms. Dupree was gone for an extended trip and would not be returning for a while, that the house was closed to all visitors. Carl gave them Ms. Laurie’s lawyer’s address, and they never returned.”

Michael looked around the room. They got in. Of that he was sure. Bugs? Cameras? After all these months with no activity they might have pulled the detail, but it was uncertain. Michael quickly took some food and started eating.

“Jenny, tell Cook that I would appreciate if she would pack us some sandwiches and stuff for the road.”

“You’re not staying?”

Michael shook his head. “No. We’ll never be able to meet up with the others if we sit around.”

Jenny smiled relieved. So, they were going to catch up to the two young women. That was good. She worried about the two girls out there alone. This wasn’t such a safe world any longer.

It was an hour later that Michael was ready to leave with food for the road. Kyle was still polishing off another sandwich. Jenny walked them to the door. Going outside with them.

“Mr. Charles, Ms. Maria said that if you were to come, that I was to give you this.” Jenny handed over a small envelope and another one much larger. “She made me promise to do it outside as you left and not before. I was to tell no one about it, and give it to no one but you.”

Michael nodded. Leaning forward, he kissed the nice woman on the cheek. “Thank you, Jenny.” Nodding to Kyle, they were finally ready to leave.

They travel north through Arizona, and finally stopped short of Flagstaff. It took hours to get that far. They hitched a ride on a few trucks, and finally stopped at a small bus depot and got a ticket to Flagstaff. Once there, they quickly took a city transit as far out of the city as possible, and hitched a ride to a smaller town just north.

Stopping for the night, they got a room. Both of them took turns in the shower, and they were on their own beds watching television before Kyle mentioned the letter. It had plagued them along the way. Michael was unsure about reading it. Maria wrote him. Part of her knew that he might someday come to find her, so she left him instructions.

He had held off on reading it until late. His stomach hurt. It could be one or two things. A letter telling him where to find her, or one telling him to fuck off and stop trying to mess up her life, that she never wanted to hear or see him again.

“Well? You going to read it?”

Michael made a face. He had wanted to be braver than this. Part of him knew that in her place his anger and feeling would’ve made him tell her to go away. Never bother him again. Michael held the larger envelope in his hands feeling it weight. Placing it on his forehead, he closed his eyes and sighed. Get it over with.

Money.

The envelope was full of money much like the pile that the Duprees gave him before. All of them were thousand dollar bills. Kyle whistled. Damn. That made the small amount his father sent him look like change.

“Oh shit!” Michael handed over the money to Kyle and stared into the empty envelope. Nothing in there, but the money.

“That money has a purpose, Kyle.”

“Sure it does! Me counting it!”

Michael picked up the smaller envelope. It was thin and maybe held two sheets of paper at most. It smelt of Maria. Her scent. Smelling it, he finally opened it. Slowly. Carefully pulling the glued back away from the envelope.

A letter.

Michael realized that he never really received a letter in his life.

Unfolding the single sheet of paper, he could see the writing. Maria’s hand, but the words blurred. Concentrating, he saw the opening line.

My Darling,

Michael gulped, and quickly sat up on the side of the bed with his back to Kyle on the other side of the room. Maria. She called him, her darling. Michael quickly went back to reading, his heart greedy for more words from Maria, news that she didn’t hate him.

My Darling,

Will you ever read these words, I wonder. So many miles have grown between us, and I feel that you live on a distance planet, and I am left here on Earth watching the twinkling of stars, wondering if you are at that moment looking back and wondering of me at the same time. Would you remember me? Would you miss me?

I know not. I wish I could believe that I know your heart, but finally I am learning that there is no certainty in this life. Nothing I can truly know except my own heart.

First, my love. Yes. My love. You had reason to doubt my affections and for that, and for that time, I can’t apologize enough. I left you. And it was my fault. I forgot. Can I say that? Because, I did. I forgot how you where raised, and by who. Hank. That outer shell you always wore of indifference was one I learned to look beyond. But for once I looked only with my eyes, and only saw your indifference. I looked at you as others, and forgot to look with my heart. If I had, I would have remembered how you were raised and realized behind the façade was a very fragile heart.

Forgive me.

I’m sorry for any pain I caused. That was never my intent. Never. There was nothing and no one that I loved more. I could tell you now, if you were willing to listen what was going on with me. But, it is like walking over old grounds. A desert wasteland, once badlands and beautiful black hills. I can see all that we were towering high, alone in the center of an open plain, and there that old devil is taunting me. Tempting me. Go North. Would you go there with me? Perhaps, you and I will always be the worse kind of encountering souls. Two struggling to find their place in this universe. I want my place to be with you, and you with me. Am I losing myself in a girlish fantasy?

Follow.

Follow your heart, and I will follow mine.

Mine belongs to you. I thought it was time I finally admitted that, stopped worrying about making you uncomfortable, or being too dreamy or romantic. It’s words, and nothing more unless it comes with true honest feeling. And they do. The words come from my very soul. Could you still see me? You once said I was very open, that you could read everything about me. Can you still feel me? I feel you. Inside. Deep. You’ve taken up resident and every breath I breathe is full of you.

I love you. Can I ever tell you that enough? How long will it take until you come to believe it. And even then, do you want that responsibility? My heart?

It has been broken of late. I’m broken. I hurt in so many ways that some days I wonder how to go on. How to breathe. Someday, I don’t breathe.

I’ve cried an ocean of tears, and they are as salty as the brine. My thoughts are as stormy and moving back between what I know, and what I must learn. So many small steps, but I’m taking them one at a time. All the journey is in parts full of my pride, my hate, my love, my anger, my guilt, and forgiveness. Not just forgiveness for you, but for myself. I have much to atone. Along the path I promised myself to heal, to find a peace.

But you, my love. Can you find that peace as well? Are you ready to find me?

When I think of you, my heart feels too full, as if it were to burst. I can feel you next to me as I sleep. In my thoughts. I am bewitched by you, and there is no one but you. You were my trial, and my salvation. It was the feel of you, the thought of you in my head and heart that kept me alive, that and the growing of you in my body.

My darling. My Michael. You saved my life. So many ways. I should recount them for you.

You are going to be a father.

I must go. Find your way. The path is there. Follow it and mend, and perhaps one day we will meet in a place, a home where we both can finally be free of the past.

I miss you.

Michael’s heart was beating wildly in his chest. A letter. No word of where she went. The letter…

“Well?”

“It’s personal.” Michael said softly. It was personal.

“Let me see.”

“No!” Michael went to put it away, so he could read it again, and again. But Kyle reached across and grabbed it. Michael swore and lunged for his letter, but Kyle had quickly backed away out of his grasp.

“Oh damn! A love letter. She wrote you a love letter.” Kyle gave it back, not having realized how personal the letter was. Michael folded it and put it in his pocket.

A love letter.

His first.

“Did she tell you where she was going?”

“No. No mention of place.” Michael was devastated. He was at a dead end. Nothing.

“Wait, don’t give up hope, space man. She had to have left something. There is seventy-five thousand in cash, and a love letter. You’re right. The money has to have a purpose, and that purpose is to find her.”

Michael agreed, but he read the letter. There was nothing. Nothing but her love of him. Telling him he is to be a father. Her asking him to forgive her for hurting him, and nothing else.

“There is nothing.”

Both men became quiet, lost in their own thoughts, half watching the game while trying to work out their next step. Michael kept taking out the letter. Reading it. Rereading it. Holding it close. Taking her picture, he read the letter again and looked at her.

Indifference. Was that the image he wore. The only thing she ever got to see from him? She was wishful in the picture. Wanting to dance with him, and he danced with Isabel and no one else. She watched everyone else, but sat there neglected. How little he gave her, and how angry he was when it wasn’t enough.

~~~

“You hog the covers.”

“I don’t.” Maria laughed putting her cold feet on him to warm them. She laughed at his yelp and then curse. Snuggling up close to him, she blew softly in his ear. “I’m cold sleeping alone. I like warming myself against you. You are so hot!”

Michael actually blushed at that. Damn her. She was making him feel all thumbs, young and greedy. He would love to just feast on her. Trap her there in the dream. It had to be a dream. At least it wasn’t a nightmare.

“I read your letter.”

Maria was busy kissing the side of his mouth, gently nipping the skin. “That’s good. I meant it.” She moved back and looked at him. “Did it hurt you? Bother you?”

“No. I…I read it a dozen times.” Michael closed his eyes to what she was doing to his neck. Moaning softly, his hand held her very close as he ran it down her nude skin. When his hand reached her stomach he was shocked. It was round. Big. Bigger than her usual flat stomach.

The baby.

“Does it grow?” What a fucking lame question, but he couldn’t know what was his dream, and what was hers.

“More every day. Would you like to feel her.”

“Her?” Michael gulped. A daughter.

“Her,” she said softly, her mouth resting just on his.

His one hand came up and pulled her mouth the rest of the way into his as his other hand stayed on her pregnant stomach. Michael moaned. Memories. It had to be the memories of how it felt and tasted to kiss her, because he swore it was the same. Never knew he could miss someone so much, miss a kiss, and miss a laugh.

“I love you.”

Maria didn’t say anything. Her stomach moved under his hand.

“Jesus!”

“She’s just settling.”

Michael moved down, and his mouth found her pregnant stomach. A daughter. Maria was giving him a daughter. “I love you,” he said again.

“I know,” she whispered as she faded.

“Wait, where are you!”

You already know. Make the journey.

No. Wait!

“Michael! Dammit, wake up!”

Michael sat up in his bed breathing hard as if he had just run a hundred miles. The room was lit by a tableside lamp Kyle must have turned on. Maria?

“What?” His voice was groggy and full of sleep.

“What? You’ve been thrashing around for the last half an hour. Moaning, and making the most interesting noises. Damn I was getting hard just listening.”

“Shut up, Valenti.”

Michael sat on the side of the bed and found the letter again. She said he already knew. He knew where to go.

“Listen to this…” There it was. It was too obscure. The randomness of the wording was too random.

“You’re going to let me read…”

“Just listen dammit,” Michael said angrily. “I’m sorry for any pain I caused. That was never my intent. Never. There was nothing and no one that I loved more. I could tell you now, if you were willing to listen what was going on with me. But, it is like walking over old grounds. A desert wasteland, once badlands and beautiful black hills. I can see all that we were towering high, alone in the center of an open plain, and there that old devil is taunting me. Tempting me. Go North. Would you go there with me? Perhaps, you and I will always be the worse kind of encountering souls. Two struggling to find their place in this universe. I want my place to be with you, and you with me. Am I losing myself in a girlish fantasy? Follow. Follow your heart, and I will follow mine.”

“That’s lovely, man. I wish someone would…” Michael hit him upside the head.

“No! Listen to the words. She’s telling us where to go. She wrote the letter so anyone else gets it, they might not know what they are reading, just a love letter.”

Michael read it again. “Go North. Follow.” Michael repeated. “She wants up to go north from Tucson.”

“Tucson is pretty far south. Everything is pretty much north of it.” Kyle sat next to Michael and read the passage again. “…the worse kind of encountering souls?” Kyle laughed. “With you being an alien and all, and the word ‘encountering’ reminds me of…”

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind,” they both said at the same time.

“Of course. Play on word. Worse kind….third kind.” Excitement. He was feeling excited. She had left him a clue…verbal breadcrumbs. Smart. His girl was smart.”

“Michael, a desert wasteland, once badlands and beautiful black hills. I can see all that we were towering high, alone in the center of an open plain, and there that old devil is taunting me. That’s Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. The Badlands and Black Hills are just east of it, running into it.”

“Wasn’t it the mound of potatoes that Richard Dreyfus was building?”

“Yeah!”

Both were quiet for a moment. Michael looked at Kyle. “Wyoming.”

~~~

It was already getting cold in northern Wyoming. It was already in early November, and they heard reports of a winter storm watch in the area. They had taken a bus from Flagstaff to Casper, Wyoming, and another one to Gillette. Needing to travel quicker, it was decided that a car was needed.

They spent a day in Casper searching for a car. Dealerships were out. But a private sale, they could hold off on registering the car. It took a day to find a car that looked reliable enough to get them around. They paid cash.

Next stop was a junk yard. They told the owner they were looking for parts, and they wandered the area, until Michael found a license plate that looked relatively new and unworn. Taking it, they later put it on the car, and Michael changed the numbers and registration date to match current ones.

They spent early lunch fighting over the color. Finally, Kyle asked the waitress, and that was how they ended up with a burgundy car.

“There’s too much orange in the color.”

“Shut up, Kyle.”

“No, I’m telling you. This is more a scarlet than a burgundy. Burgundy is deeper, richer, and this has orange.”

“Deal. I’m not changing it!” Michael hoped they found Maria before he was forced to murder Kyle and spread his body across the continent.

Kyle snickered knowing he was driving Michael crazy. It would just make Michael appreciate Maria more. Searching through a listing of all the motels, hotels and camping spots in and around Devil’s Tower, their task looked insurmountable.

“There is a crap load of places.”

Michael swore. Dammit, he was already tired of this hunt. He wanted to find Maria now. “Just read them off.”

Kyle started reading and they marked possibilities. Anything that sparked a thought of Maria, or something familiar. They hit sixteen places first, showing Maria’s picture. But it was getting dark, and they were striking out.

“Read it again. We know she’s here or was here. Somewhere near Devil’s Tower.”

Kyle scanned the list. “This would be too simple. Devil’s Tower Lodge?”

“Give me directions!”

It was a fifteen minute drive. Michael and Kyle trudged into the Bed and Breakfast Lodge and waited to be served. The woman helping another group, suddenly smiled.

“I know you!” Kyle and Michael shared a glance, both about to back away. “Maria said you might come.”

“Maria?”

“Yes. Her and Laurie asked me to look for you.” The woman called to a room behind the check-in counter. “Rick! Come here. Charles is here. Maria and Laurie’s Charles.”

A tall lean man came out with a ready smile. He offered Michael his hand, and then Kyle. “Finally! I was thinking that you’d never come.”

“Maria? She was here,” Michael paused, “long?” He couldn’t give away that he didn’t know that Maria had been there.

“Oh, about a month I believe it was that she and Laurie stayed with us.” Rick took the register and looked through it. “You’re in luck. The same retreat cabin they used is open. Maria said that you would want the same one, especially after she talked it up.”

Kyle nodded his head wisely as the man spoke. “Definitely. If Laurie recommends something, I always listen. Now not being married to her yet, I’ve been taking my cues from Charles here. He and Maria, now they have a long established relationship, and this marriage thing, it’s sort of new.”

“I understand. Me and Amy only took over this business a few years back. It’s been a great life. Hasn’t it honey?”

Amy smiled as she got the keys ready and grabbed extra towels. “Really great. You are going to love the cabin. Maria and Laurie were here so long, that they made a special rug, and we just loved it! Maria was so sweet. She was clueless about hook rugs, but I showed her everything, even how to create a design, and next thing I knew the two of them were always busy. It helped her pass time, since she was feeling so sick.” Amy looked at Michael critically. “Is she feeling better?”

Michael glanced at Kyle and quickly nodded. “Yeah, the first few months she was pregnant was rough, especially with Kyle and I traveling everywhere for our jobs. But now that she is just over six months, she is feeling much better.”

“Pregnant! She never said anything.” Amy seemed relieved. Maria had been so sick that she worried that it was more than just a flu or cold.

“Well having my sister with her must have helped. Maria hates being cooped up, and when I’m gone for a long time, we hate for her to be alone.”

“That was really nice of you sister to take the time.” Rick said passing the register for Michael to sign.

“My fiancée is a real good sport,” Kyle said not wanting to be left out of the discussion. Michael gave Kyle a disbelieving look and quickly signed the register. Charles Dupree.

“Yeah, my sister is a saint.” Kyle sniffed at that. “Do you need my ID?”

“No. That’s okay. You’re fine. You’ll need supplies. There is a grocery just up the street that is open for another three hours. There is wood in the cabin, so feel free to start a fire.”

Michael passed over a thousand dollar bill. And Rick looked at it. “I’m not sure I have enough to give you change.”

“That’s okay. Just keep it. We might be here a few days, so we’ll get the change when we check out.”

“This would pay for a week.”

“You never know. You have that specific cabin reserved anytime soon?”

Rick shook his head no. “It’s getting off season. Summer is our busy time. Stay as long as you want.” He took a local map and marked the retreat cabin just off a little in the woods. They thanked the couple and quickly went to hit the grocery store before finding the cabin.

“We need to get some change. Next time we see a bank, lets go exchange some of these larger bills.”

“Can’t you just change them, Charles?”

Michael glared at the name. “Change a thousand to a smaller bill? Are you insane?”

It took them a little bit to get all the groceries they needed. Depending on the cabin, they decided to stop for a few days. Scout around and see what Laurie and Maria might have done while there for an entire month. Michael wasn’t too happy to hear that Maria was feeling sick. He should’ve been there.

When the entered the cabin, the rug was the first thing they saw. Hard to miss. It was a large hook rug with an alien symbol as a design.

“Yeah, there were here.”

“You think?” Michael said sarcastically.

After unloading the groceries, Michael left Kyle to put things away. He headed back to the main lodge on foot. Going through the door, it wasn’t hard to appreciate the warmth of the room from the increasing coolness outside.

“Amy?” The woman looked up and smiled warmly.

“Charles, is there anything wrong?”

Michael smiled, practicing what he hoped was a charming smile. “No. Not at all unless you count me having to share a cabin with Kyle. He snores and talks in his sleep.”

“Take the second room. It is better insulated and you shouldn’t hear him.”

“Thanks. I was wondering a few things. First, will my cell phone work here? I need to call and check up on Maria and the baby.”

“It should work fine as long as you aren’t out of your calling plan.”

“I’ve got a across America one. I only have problems in some remote areas, and planes.”

“It should work.” Amy leaned on the counter. “Baby? She didn’t say.”

“I’m just glad I wasn’t the last to know. You know what they say about men being the last. It’s a girl.”

“A girl! Rick and I were talking about kids, but it always seemed like we had so much to do, and over the years it started to feel like we were too settled in our lives to disrupt it with children.”

Michael was actually proud of his sudden ability to chit chat. Who would’ve thought. “Amy. Maria’s mom’s name was Amy.”

“I know. She told me. She looked real sad too.”

Michael looked at the counter. “Her mom just died. We were high school…” Michael laughed. Sweethearts? That didn’t fit. “Anyway after graduation, we married and soon after, her mom died. I think the baby was a decision to bring some life back in our lives. Her mom was all she ever had, so it was tough.”

“Oh. I hadn’t realized. I saw her crying a few times. She was thin, pale and sick most the time.”

“Staying home alone with Amy gone would’ve been hard, so her Laurie decided to travel a bit to let her see some different places…places that didn’t remind her of her mom.”

“And my name is the same. Oh! Poor Maria.” Amy looked very sad, and Michael liked her even more. “There was something else you said.”

“Oh, right.” Michael cleared his throat. “I was wondering if Maria left anything behind?”

Amy suddenly looked confused. “No. Just the rug they made.”

Michael feigned indifference. “That’s okay. I was just checking. Sometimes if she knows I am traveling a certain place, she leaves me a letter behind or something. I guess this time I’m out of luck.”

“A letter?”

Michael quickly took Maria’s letter out of his pocket and showed it to Amy, who read the first line and smiled.

“A love letter!”

Michael actually turned slightly red, which was perfect. “Guess I’m getting spoiled.”

“I’m sure you aren’t.”

“Well goodnight, and thanks.”

Michael quickly left breathing in relief. Showing her the other letter was a momentary stroke of genius. She would just remember it as something very sweet and romantic.

Amy watched him leave with a large grin on her face. Oh, that was so romantic! Maria leaving love letters all over the place for him to find. “Rick. Rick, I’ve got to tell you something.”

~~~

Kyle was cooking when Michael got back.

“What room did you take, Kyle.”

“Neither. Haven’t had a chance since I put away the groceries, and am now cooking.”

Michael nodded and quickly went to claim the better insulated and quieter room. Going into the bathroom, he quickly showered. Kyle was toasting tortillas and occasionally stirring a pot.

“What is that?”

“Chili. My dad’s recipe.” Michael scratched his brow. Two men creating a chili, it could be interesting. Taking a spoon, he tried some. His eyebrow went up. Eatable.

“It’s okay.”

“Okay! It’s great. Secret ingredient is half a beer.”

Michael paused in his eating. “Damn. Keep that away from me!”

“Don’t worry. It shouldn’t hurt you. The alcohol cooks off, and it is just the flavors of the malt barley and hops remaining.” Kyle took out cheese and sour cream. “What room did you give me?”

“The first one. You deserved it since you’re working so hard.” Kyle smiled. Michael smirked and went to check out the television situation.

“This is a nice place. I can see why Maria wanted to stay here a month after what she went through.” Kyle said quietly.

Michael nodded not making eye contact. He couldn’t think about that. Not right now. It was too much to even imagine what they did to her before her pregnancy test came back positive. Last time he slept with her was three days before he said goodbye and rode away. Not one of his finer moments…the leaving part, but he was at least honest with her about his feelings.

“Why did you come, Kyle? Really. Why?”

That was a hard question. Harder to answer than he could explain. “It’s Maria. She…” Kyle served up the chili trying to bring order to his chaotic thoughts. “I liked Maria. Always had. Even when I was dating Liz during PME, I liked her.”

“PME?”

“Pre-Max Evans. Back when Liz actually was a nice girl to know. Smart. Funny. Honest. And she didn’t know how to lie and deceive.”

“She had her reasons, Kyle.”

“Sure she did. They all started and ended with Max.” Kyle didn’t know that he became so jaded in his views. Maybe he was just tired of being ever alien chicks fall guy, and now a pseudo-alien one too. Liz dumped him for Max. Which, would’ve been okay if she hadn’t strung him along, and then used his friends as an excuse to end it. Honesty would’ve been better. Anything, but how it happened.

Then Tess. He really liked Tess. For the longest time, it was so much more. She was like everything he ever dreamt of, and more. It took him a while to understand that his sudden feeling for her as a sister was just another mind warp. She needed him out of the way, and couldn’t afford him being hurt, so she convinced him that his feelings were family related and not romantic. After the mind warping stopped, all the feelings came back, but love and hate shared a common boundary, and what was once love easily became hate.

Then Isabel. Fascinated with a married woman. The death of him, it was. She was free now, and he didn’t care. Because no matter what happened in the future, he would always be second best, or even third behind Jesse and Alex. He was the left over prize. She would turn to him just because she was lonely and sad, and good old friend Kyle would pet and care for her. When the hell did he become Alex Whitman’s stand-in? A great guy. There was a time when he was young, and dangerous to women, to their virginity and reputation that was. He was a jock that father’s worried about when he took them on dates. Now the father of young women probably had no problem with him because he was such a nice guy. Kiss of death.

“I came with you, because I’m looking for something. Something inside me, and I don’t think I can find it watching Max and Liz play smoochie-face with all those longing looks. And Isabel. I can’t be her substitute for Jesse. I can’t. I don’t want that. I deserve someone who wants me for me. Period. Plus, I’m still hoping for the one hour orgasm alien mojo thing to kick in and I want to be in a position to be able to test drive it.”

“You’re a dog.”

Kyle laughed and hit Michael on the shoulder while sitting down in front of the television with his chili. “I know! Isn’t it great?”

“Yeah. Great.” Michael ate for a few moment thinking about what Kyle was trying to say. He didn’t blame him wanting to be free of Isabel who discovered how to be clingy and needy in one breath, or the soulmatey moo fest. That cow thing was enough to put most sane, healthy, sexually active young adults into a tailspin. “So what is it about Maria?”

Kyle wasn’t sure he could explain. “Perseverance.” Rubbing his neck, he leaned his head back and looked at the ceiling. “All those years, all those time you stomped on her heart, hurt her, pushed her away, she stayed strong. And after she came back from New York and wanted back with you, she took whatever you dished out from pissy Michael to evil Antarian King. And when we left her behind, she again survived. Maria…she stays through thick and thin, regardless. She makes mistakes, but I can forgive that. Maria, in all those years has never really changed. She didn’t let the alien stuff change what she was deep inside. A strong person, loyal, honest, and very open. I guess, I just needed to see that she survived that. That losing Amy, watching Jesse die, and being tortured by the Special Unit hasn’t broken her irreparably.” He wasn’t saying it right. But it was the best he could come up with. “I just need to be there for her, because I, too, only thought of myself, and never stood up for her. I need to fix that.”

“I went over to the main lodge while you where putting away things to see if she left me another letter. Nothing.”

“She left a clue. I’m sure of it.” Kyle got up to get more chili. “Don’t worry, Michael. We’ll get it done, and this time, we’ll do it right.”

Michael would’ve agreed if he wasn’t so fucking tired.

~~~

“You’re tired.”

He had been waiting for her. “Yes, and so are you.”

Maria shrugged and continued showering. He watched her naked form silhouetted against the steamed glass. The outline of her pregnant body was interesting to him. He wanted to draw her, maybe paint or try his hand at sculpture. He never tried sculpture before, but he never tried drawing or painting until he just did it.

“You are so incredibly beautiful.”

Maria turned off the shower and opened the door. Standing there, wet and dripping, her skin healthy and pink he couldn’t stop the feeling, the need to cry.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Michael, you could’ve told me anything. Anytime. I was always waiting to listen.”

Taking a towel he went and dried her off concentrating on her hair and pregnant stomach. Maria hooked an arm around his neck, and leaned her wet form into him. Kissing him, letting it go too more as they swayed together, in a dance of mating.

Michael rested his forehead against hers. “When they told me you were taken, I thought you were dead. And…” Michael closed his eyes. “I…I have no words to tell you how much I hurt from that thought. If you died….I couldn’t, I wouldn’t want to go on. Not without you. It took me that moment to really understand how stupid I was to ever let you go.”

“All journeys are a step in a direction of understanding. This time is for you, my love. When you are ready to find me, you will know where to go. I’m home. I’m waiting for you at home.”

“Where is home, Maria? Where is it.”

Maria kissed him again, he allowed himself to move into it. “You know.”

~~~

Michael sat up in the dark. There would never be another night of undisturbed sleep. She came and went too fast. Enigmatical. Maria DeLuca was driving him insane. Just tell me for God’s sake.

She left a clue. There was no way she left Devil’s Tower without leaving something behind. But where? It would be something that he understood. Something that would attract his eye.

The rug. The rug with an alien design that she laborious worked on, learned to sew just for that purpose.

Michael was in the room with the lights on. Removing the table sitting on the rug, he picked it up and stared at it. It was just a rug. Nothing hidden in it, no secret strands, and no stashes. Dammit.

Putting the rug on the table, Michael stood looking at the ceiling rubbing his tired neck. He was missing something. Something obvious. Tired. It was catching up to him. A rug. Why a rug?

It covers a floor.

Michael quickly looked down and searched the floor. Wooden. Planked, tongue in groove, and finished. Getting on his knees, he pushed on the floor that the rug had covered. A loose board. Using his knife he wedged the board up and looked into the dark under floor.

Reaching in, he found a letter.

Darling,

How long did it take for you to find me? I figured it would take a moment or two, but not much more than that. You might not have been the best of students, and school was never the high point of your existence, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have an excellent mind.

I wondered about the baby today. The morning sickness is a real stitch. Maybe someone should’ve mentioned that morning sickness can occur in the afternoon, at night, and basically whenever. Laurie is worried about me, and that is warming to know someone cares. I think she is only upset because she never knew a person could throw up so much.

Isn’t this the best and most romantic love letter you’ve ever received?

Ironic isn’t it. All the things I ever wanted to say to you, and kept them hidden in my heart would’ve burned the very pages had I written them down. But I didn’t. I guess I left Liz with that task of leaving paper trails.

That is unfair. I didn’t write my love for you in poems or well thought out words, because I was afraid. Somehow, it would’ve been as if I was trying to find simple mundane words to tell of what you were to me, that the very feeling in my body would explode. I couldn’t lose it. Not to simple words like ‘I love you’ when there was so much more to it than that.

Did I ever tell you how you made me feel when you let me see you? That first time we made love? Made love. It was that. It was always that. No matter what our brains told us, or what our stupid mouths said, never have I ever touched you without love in my heart.

Sex. It was just a way to cheapen the experience, make it commonplace with nothing but a cheap thrill of good smut. Arousing, yes. But soon forgotten. You could walk away from sex, but not from love.

How strange is it, my darling that my body is changing because of something we tried to convince ourselves was only sex, but was done with such tender love making? I wouldn’t never chose to be pregnant at eighteen. A mother at nineteen. But there is no choice here now. I’m okay with that. I touch my flat stomach and am amazed that a small version of Michael Guerin is growing inside me. Not just you, my love. But you and me. Together. We were always better together, than apart. This child will be the better.

I’ve been reading. A lot. I was reading about the space program and the race to the moon. Yes, you should laugh. All things spacey. Anyway, it shocked me how much I thirst to know everything. To understand and share in the adventure. Why did I not find that interest when I was in school? So ‘I have a mission to find…’ a school that will inspire and educate a thirst for knowledge in our child. Raised Catholic, should I look to those schools that educate both the mind and the soul? We never talked about religion, or children, or even names.

Anthony or Antonio? What do you think? Remember DeLuca is such an ethnic name. I would like there to be a large park at this school, a place for a person to play and explore, to feel humbled by history. Maybe someplace that could teach a child about honor, overwhelming odds, standing strong despite all cost. I want our child to be better than me.

Michael, do you still feel me? Do you feel the baby? I don’t know if I am afraid of what it will be. I didn’t like your alien side. It lessened you. But, either way, alien Michael or my Michael, I’ve always loved just you. And this baby, alien, human, or a hybrid will always be loved and wanted. I won’t fear love. Not anymore. I am learning that love is a gift, one that should be treasured and never taken for granted.

Looking up at the moon and the stars that here look as if some just reached up and painted them on the sky, I realized that there is no one. No one but you with me ever moment of every day. I carry you in my womb, in my heart and soul, my very bones shake at the presence of you. There is no man in the moon. He’s here, on Earth. My spaceboy. I wish I could touch you just one more time.

“But ‘I have a mission’, and now, so do you. A mission to find what was lost. What was never to be forgotten, but was.

Michael, you are not alone. I am here. I am still here.

Rereading her letters was becoming a habit. The first was already worn from being folded and refolded. This one he read to hear from her at first. And after he got as much from it as he could, he slowly read it for content. Hidden messages.

Mission. She mentioned it more than once.

School. Maria hated school as much as he. A mission was a type of school. One that use to education of both the mind and the soul.

How many missions were there? That was insane. He couldn’t travel to every one looking for her. Michael read the letter again. Frowning he reread a question over and over.

Anthony or Antonio?

Maria would name any son of hers Alex. Of that he was sure. A mission. Antonio. San Antonio, Texas. A place to stand strong, to hold ground against overwhelming odds.

Shit.

The Alamo in San Antonio. She was too damn close to New Mexico.

~~~

They stayed in the Devil’s Tower Lodge for a week. Even though Michael knew where to go, they decided they needed to recoup. Rest. Plan the trip instead of just rushing.

Devil’s Tower. Michael and Kyle took the time and climbed it. Maria was right. They felt so much closer to the star there than home. On top of the Tower they waited until nightfall and watched a meteor shower.

Antar, so far away in the vast field of stars, but it didn’t matter. Michael already knew where home was. He chose it a long time ago.

~~~

“I missed you.”

Maria smiled. It had been a few nights since they shared a dream. “Sorry. I was sick the last few days. I think I was too tired to even dream.”

Michael’s heart bumped abruptly in his chest. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His hands reached for her, running over her slight form looking for anything, everything.

“Chill, spaceboy. Just a cold. Nothing more. Slight fever, cough, and disgusting stuffy nose. I’m much better. Laurie has been killing me with Vitamin C.”

Michael’s face remained unaltered, dark and disturbed. “I should be there with you.”

“You are, my love. You always are.”

“I know where to go next. San Antonio.”

“Smart boy.” Maria moved her hands over his body, finding her way into his clothes. “Baby, you need to drop the inhibition. Can’t you dream yourself naked? For me?”

Michael laughed. He never noticed that. She was always naked, or pretty damn close.

“Maybe I want you to undress me.”

Maria’s interest piqued, she smiled a ‘not so nice’ smile, and slowly peeled his clothes off. Michael moaned as her mouth followed her hands, and parts of his anatomy that were neglected of her touch were suddenly…not so neglected.

“Oh God...!” Michael stopped cold in his tracks, eyes wide and transfixed, as Maria stopped touching just him and made sure he was watching her. Maria had his...she was...Oh, God, she was beautiful.

Michael lay upon his bed, head thrown back, obviously focused on Maria’s hand alternating with her mouth. His cock was jutting through the fly in his boxers, and she had her hand wrapped around it, stroking up and down, alternating between gentle caresses and hard, hot pumping. At times her mouth would descend and suck him tasting the growing moisture. The other hand...ohmigod...her other hand was rubbing up and down, and across, his chest; pausing occasionally to pinch lightly at a nipple. Michael watched in fascination as Maria moved her hand back and forth between those nipples; could almost see the little buds harden and tighten up from the stimulation. God how could she know he loved that? That he was a slut to have his nipples played with? He knew that Maria loved it on herself, but he never gave any indication that he loved it too.

“It’s your wet dream, silly! Of course I know just what you want. Think women dream about giving blowjobs?”

“They don’t?”

Maria laughed delighted at his expression. Such masculine confusion. “Sometimes. I dream about blowing you, but more you doing me. I could almost draw the look of your mouth on me, sucking me off, my breast, and my skin…everywhere. I dream of that more than just straight pounding sex.”

Michael couldn’t help it. He was intrigued. Maria never told him her dreams or her fantasies. He never asked. Guess he was always caught up in his own pleasure, worrying about doing it well, and getting caught up in just getting off, he never asked. He never asked.

“Tell me what gets you off.” Michael ignored that he should be quizzing her, trying to get her to tell him where she was. He couldn’t help it. It had been month. She was pregnant with his baby. Nude, and very sexy. Her mouth was red from use, and her eyes dark with passion. What the hell? He was a guy. He’d get to the journey later. This was something he wanted to know now.

Maria smiled in a way he never saw. It was power. Raw feminine power. She knew. She knew that she could drive him easily with whatever it was and it was an aphrodisiac for her.

Michael waited for her to tell him, but she obviously had a better idea. She plumped up a pillow on the bed and lounged back on it naked. No. Not so naked suddenly. She was wearing black silk stocking, thigh-high held in place by a garter belt, and nothing else. Her breasts were nude, larger and fuller than he remembered. Her hair was tossed around her head like he had ran his hands through it. She laid back and spread her legs making sure he was watching. Watching? Hell he wished he had a video camera. Maria in a porn film just for him. Oh damn! He was going to disgrace himself by losing it immediately.

Nope. Maria was going to help him. His own personal slut. No inhibitions. She reached up one hand and grabbed the back of the headboard hard. Her other hand wandered over her breasts and she pinched her nipple hard. Michael couldn’t help it. He felt it in his own groin. The reaction to her touching herself. The moisture gathering shocked him. Milk. It was milk. Michael closed his eyes from a moment moaning loud and lusty. He wanted to taste it, feed on it, and just knowing it was going to feed his daughter. Too much. He was more than ready to just lose it now, but Maria hadn’t even begun.

Her hand slid down her skin sensually, her abdominal muscles stretched for the baby, but still taunt and reacting moved under her touch. Michael watched. Couldn’t help it. He always loved that she shaved. Her hand finding the folds of her sex, probing tentatively, teasing him as he watched, wanting her to open it up more. God, Maria. Stop teasing and get on with it.

No luck. She took her own sweet time getting herself off under his eyes. She kept watching him closely, seeing what he liked. The spreading of the fold, the sight of her own fingers sinking in her, or the actual sounds she made? Finally she forgot to watch and just shut her eyes, bit her lip, and got into it, her hand moving faster as her own body withered under her own knowledgeable hand.

Michael hadn’t realized that his own hand found his own body. He was so intent on watching her, as she closed her eyes and put her head back, stretching the length of her neck, the sounds of her moans were hard to take as his own voice seemed to echo hers.

With one hand still working on himself, he quickly arranged his length along hers, and his other hand joining hers, working his finger in along side hers in an incredibly tight, hot passage lubricated by her release. Maria was panting her mouth was beside his ear.

“That’s my fantasy. To have you watch me do myself, you wanting to do it, wishing it was your hand in me, and your body making me scream.”

“God, Maria!”

Michael woke screaming in an orgasmic release. Sitting up in the bed for a moment, he quickly fell back down in the bedding. Damn she was good. Real good. His body was covered in sweat. His own hand covered in his own semen, and his heart was beating out of his chest while his breathing came in pants. The bed was a mess.

When he finally caught up with her, got his hands on her again, she was in for a real long ride. Hot. Hard, and bordering on brutal. He had a lot of sexual frustration to work off. After the first month, he might even let her out of bed to eat. Maybe.

~~~

“So want to tell me what all the late night screaming is about?”

Michael just grunted.

“Is that a ‘none of your business’, or a ‘sorry can’t talk right now because I am feeding my face’?” Kyle waited, but Michael just kept on eating like he was starved. Three nights. The past three nights, Michael woke him up with his screams.

The first night, he fell out of his bed, and rushed to see if Michael was okay, to stop outside the door hearing Michael’s deep laugh inside. The other man was talking in the dark, and Kyle could hear Maria’s name. The second night, he woke him again, but this time at least he didn’t fall out of bed. But last night. Damn.

Last night, Kyle had just gone to bed. He wasn’t even asleep when it started. The thrashing. The moans. The creaking of the bed springs as Michael’s larger body moved and withered in it. Michael was talking in a low, powerfully deep tone, calling Maria’s name. She was working him over. Hard. Last night was definitely a blowjob. Hearing Michael tell her to ‘blow him harder’, and all the ‘oh god yeah, your mouth is so hot’ was enough to send him to the damn showers. Cold. In the fucking middle of the night.

Talk about cruelty.

Here he was in northern Wyoming with Michael Guerin, perhaps one of the most tight lipped men in the world, and the man was having sex in his sleep. Dammit! His damn alieness better come with some added benefits.

Michael snuck a look at Kyle. Perhaps he owed him an explanation. Maybe not. After the first night when Maria performed masturbation on herself, he didn’t think it could get any better, being that it was just a dream. An incredible wet dream. But the next night she told him that the only thing she liked better was watching him do himself. How the hell was he supposed to know that having her watch him jerk off was going to pump his engines so much? It more than worked for him a little. It went nuclear when her fingertip reached out and gathered his pre-cum and she sucked it in her mouth. God, she was such a glorious bitch. His.

But last night, she went another step. As soon as the dream began he found her on her knees in front of him, tonguing him, sucking with tiny nipping bites, then deep throating him while he lost control and pumped into her mouth without regard of anything but getting off. His voice moaning, and mouthing off, telling her things he didn’t even know he thought about, or graphic details he never considered. She was definitely a great influence on him sexually.

“I just dream about Maria, a lot.”

“So I gather.” Kyle said dryly. “Is it as good as the real thing?”

Michael thought about it for a second. “No.” Strange that he never looked at it in that light. “It’s just a wet dream. As soon as I come, I wake up. No deep connection. No lasting orgasm or feeling her tearing apart under me. It is just gratifying sex. Good for the moment, but it fades fast. Then it is this hollow hunger that seems bottomless.”

Kyle nodded trying to sympathize, but hell, it sounded great, even if it was just a momentary release. Better than he was getting. Damn. He really needed to get laid.

“So has this been going on for a while?”

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day we left Roswell. It’s only the past few days it turned sexual. Mostly it was nightmares. Pain. Her sorrow and fear. I think her pregnant hormones have just hyped her into the horny category, so now it all about sex.”

“The stuff before,” Kyle gulped hard. He hadn’t realized that Michael had been living the nightmare with Maria. No wonder he had been a taciturn son-of-a-bitch. Intolerable. The dreams must have bled in with the emotions, like a really bad trip. “It couldn’t have been easy.”

Michael stood up and took his breakfast dishes. “No. It was worse knowing that I was getting a watered down version. What she was going through was a hundred times worse. To me it was all just a hodgepodge of weird dreams, and conflicted sensations.”

They talked for a while longer, but Michael went back to bed to try to get caught up on some sleep. They were leaving in the morning. Things had changed in the dreams. They had gone from comforting to romantic, from continuations of the love letters, to comforting reassurances, and enigmatical clues to finding her. Now they were all hot and fire. Sex. It was as if all the aspects that made them up, them as a couple was being explored. They weren’t Max and Liz, so the overly overblown romantic and long continuous talks about their relationship, just weren’t them. Their attraction and sex appeal kept them moving beyond that.

Maria was trying to tell him something. It took some though, but he was finally getting it. She not only loved him, missed him, but she was sexually frustrated being without him. Smiling, Michael took a nap. He needed his strength.

~~~

San Antonio was hot. Compared to northern Wyoming in November, San Antonio was very warm. Almost toasty. They could decide on a hotel, so they picked someplace close to the Missions. There was about five of them in a special park.

It took some thought, but Michael wanted to question a friar or priest, until Kyle pointed out that the missions were run by the Park system. That meant Park Rangers. So after they finally made it to San Antonio, Kyle went off to find information about the park while Michael went to find a listing of all the motels and hotels near by. They would start with the closer hotels to the park.

He was reluctant to flash Maria’s picture too much. They were too close to Roswell. Too close for comfort.

~~~

Kyle laughed as the young woman told him another story. She was what they called and ‘interpreter’. She served tourist by giving them information and vital statistics about the park and its history. Molly. She was a real cute Ranger. Only nineteen, she started working for the park system as a volunteer at seventeen, and now two years later they hired her part-time while she went to school in forestry.

“Yeah, I remember Maria. She was real quiet. Sad almost. I talked with her for a few days, but she stayed around for almost two weeks.”

“What did she do?”

Molly shrugged. Maria was hard to miss. She wasn’t the normal tourist. She seemed to have a mission.

“Mostly, she sat around the aqueduct.”

“Just sat?” Kyle was confused. That sounded a little tame for Maria, especially the Maria that was giving Michael screaming orgasms and keeping him up at night.

“Sat. Floated white lotus flowers in the water. She told me they were prayers. Prayers for the lost.”

Jesse. Alex. Her mother. Maria was on a pilgrimage to overcome her grief, to let go. Michael was going to find it hard to hear that.

“Thanks for the info. Did she go anywhere else?”

“The mission.” Molly pointed at one. “Mostly she went I think to pray.”

Kyle gestured to the building. “Can I go in, or is it closed.”

Molly looked at her watch. “Technically it is closed, but go ahead. I’ll close the other ones first.” Kyle smiled his thanks.

The sanctuary was lit by candles. There was a prayer area, a place to light candles in prayer. Kyle went to stand near it. The altar area around the candles was littered with things. Toys. Pictures. Crosses and rosaries. Letters.

Looking around, Kyle pretended to pray and knelt. Looking up, he saw a letter. ‘Saint Michael’. God forgive him if he took the wrong thing, Kyle took the letter and put it in his pocket.

“Did you see everything?”

Kyle calmed his racing heart. She just appeared and actually scared him. Doing crimes wasn’t in his nature. He came from a three generational family of cops.

“Yes. Thanks. I really appreciate the help.”

Molly looked at him and smiled as she closed the doors and locked them. Walking him to the entrance, she paused in her speech.

“So are you going to be around for long?”

Kyle was immediately suspicious until he looked at her and realized that she was actually hitting on him. Damn. That felt…good.

“For a few days.” Now that he found the letter, maybe less.

The increase the sensuality in Michael’s dreams was starting to frustrate him. He seemed more and more intent on finding Maria, quick.

“So, you have plans tonight?”

Kyle looked at her and smiled. “I don’t know. Do I have plans, Molly.”

Molly laughed and made arrangements to come by his hotel room to pick him up for dinner.

~~~

“A date? You’ve got a date?” Michael was a little put out. They had a damn mission. “With a Park Ranger? You know, you could’ve told me you were gay.”

“I’m not gay. Stop being a prick. Female Park Ranger. Not that it would matter what I chose to date. You have no room to complain. I’ve put up with cold showers for night after night. Maybe I’d like to get laid? Or maybe get a little action?”

Michael started to make a comment, but bit it back. Kyle was right, and he was being unfair. But they hadn’t found where Maria had stayed, or anything. He was tired of this journey. He needed to see her, soon. Person to person. He needed to touch his baby, feel it move under her skin in more than a dream.

“Here. This will keep you busy while I’m gone.” Kyle dug out the letter praying it was for Michael, and not some weary traveler’s request to St. Michael.

“Where?”

“In a mission on the park. Molly remembered Maria well. Said she floated white lotus flowers in the aqueduct, praying for her fallen family.”

Lotus.

Michael stared at the envelope. Lotus. What did that mean? He remembered something about lotus flowers. A…drug that kept men enthralled, or something. It eluded him.

The knock at the door kept him from saying anymore, as Kyle opened the door to a really nice looking young woman, she was beautiful, but her vitality made her gorgeous. Nice legs.

Michael just grunted an acknowledgement as he tossed himself on the bed to read his letter. Kyle just shrugged and took his date out on the town. She was going to show him San Antonio, Texan style. He couldn’t wait to see what that meant.

Michael ignored the shutting door as he opened the letter. A petal of a white flower fell on him. Lotus. Ensnares the senses, makes a man forget to care…

Sweetheart,

I’m too tired today to leave you a clue in clever guise. The will has left me to think and ponder, to leave little breadcrumbs in a maze of truths.

The seashore. I’m going there next. Along the gulf the barrier islands protect the coast from the brunt of the sea. I want to walk the shores. Dream of you. Think of the tears we’ve shed, and learn to understand why so many things had to be they way they were. There is a storm in every port of my life, raging, seething, and I can’t wade above the rage. I would hate to miss the greatest gamble that a missing state can offer a wandering soul.

Stargazing at those pinpoints of light that gave me you. How should I feel? Happy. Sad. Angry or complete? How should I feel my darling? What is it to hate?

One thing I know is that at times, I learned to hate my life, and to hate my helplessness. I’m only human. Human. I’ve made mistakes. Hurt people that I didn’t mean to, in what? My rush to be selfish, or is ignorance a good enough excuse. Most people can be excused for reaching for a dream, but it seems I was only allowed one. You.

One thing I learned is that I am a person people chose not to forgive, or hold mistakes against longer. All around me, everyone else was doing the same, hurting, behaving in the most conceited of manner, and the one time I acted for myself it proved the one time that was unforgivable.

Even now, I can’t forgive myself. So many lies I told under the guise of protecting you and your secret. A good cause. A noble cause. I lied to my mother. Worse. I lied to myself. I wanted to be strong. Not afraid when I learnt of what you were, of all of you. I lied. I was terrified. The years, that fear turned to other kinds. Fear for your life. Fear of loving a person I couldn’t ever really know, one that couldn’t let me in, or easily brushed off my importance. Fear that teenagers against powerful aliens or even the Special Unit were racing against time, because there would never be a way for them to win.

Alex.

He proved my paranoia correct. We weren’t immortal just because we were fighting a noble cause. How strange it was to be sixteen or even seventeen, and have so much weigh and responsibility toss at your feet. You couldn’t be flawed. You couldn’t want. You had to be all giving and supportive, or you were the worst of creatures for not being some paragon of virtue. So much responsibility for some so young. It stole our youth, and our innocence. When did you ever feel young, Michael? Young. Happy. Carefree? Like the world was all in front of you, and you had nothing but time to find yourself and your future?.

By eighteen, I knew what it was to be suffocating. I couldn’t breath. It was as if I had run too long, and statistically time was running out on me. I was a failure waiting to happen, and my contention is that the amazing thing was that it hadn’t happened sooner.

There had to be something stable in my life, some beacon or star to fix myself to. I need a navigable North Star to hold me on an unwavering course home. That was you. I came home to you. I didn’t have to, because I was free of Roswell. Free of the alien conspiracy. But what is a life without a heart? What is a soul without a sense of wonder? When you start to compromise your soul, your heart, your integrity, when does it blacken your life to nothing?

Sweetheart, did you fall from the sky? I thought so. In my life there could be nothing as special and unique as you. I know that the world had never seen the likes of you, and it will never again.

Is it too much to hope that this flaw human girl could hold such a brilliant star of fire in her palms, and hope not to burn to close to the flame?

Today the baby moved. And I laughed in wonder. It took me forever to realize what it was. Starting like a fluttering, butterflies in the stomach, it was my baby moving in me. It was you. All I have, all I’ll ever be, there will be nothing as important as being the mother of your child. I finally found my purpose, that all important ambition and dream to give me direction in my life.

I hope you aren’t disappointed that it wasn’t you. I needed it not to be. I didn’t want to become another Liz Parker, who gave up ever dream she had or sense of herself to pursue one dream…Max. It was an almost impossible dream because he slept with Tess, impregnated Tess, and broke her heart. How could he be the dream? He was at times more like a nightmare.

I didn’t want you to be my dream. I wanted you to be my equal, or me to be yours. I don’t want to always be chasing to catch up, or to keep up to you. I wanted to walk at your side as a partner…a place where we could walk towards a dream together. I wanted to be that strong. Strong enough so you didn’t always think of dumping me to keep me safe.

Today, I have no forgiveness in my heart. Only hate. I floated the lotus flower down the stream and wondered if the alien mystique was what blinded us all to what a terrible price reality could be. How can I forgive myself Jesse? Or even Alex? My mom. My God! My mom. Was this the price of all those years of silence and my lies.

Today I hate myself. But tomorrow. Tomorrow will be better.

She hates herself. Why? Why herself and not him?

Michael laid in the bed, stunned by the realization that so much lived in her. So many doubts and bad feelings. All this time. All the times he walked away, they added to the doubts and scars. Strong. She had felt the need to find a strength, to prove herself, and to dream.

Did she really dream anymore? Dreams that weren’t hedged in a nightmare of torture? How could she go on? How? Her life since she learned the truth and met him was the beginning of one long torture. He should leave her alone. Give her and his child peace. A life free of him, and all the danger that followed him like a monkey on his back.

No.

No! He couldn’t be that selfless. It would be just the same thing again. Him dumping her, to protect her from him, from his alien world. All this time. All they been through and sacrificed. All the pain. It was time to learn. To grow up. She didn’t need his protection. She didn’t need him to make the decision of her life for her. He decided whether she could come or go. It wasn’t his place. All he had a right to was to decide for himself and be honest about what he wanted. Maria. He wanted Maria. So why did he push her away? To punish her, or to punish himself for being evil inside, corrupt and murderous when he was King. He had to learn to trust in her enough, believe in her enough to let her make the decision on her own. That was what it meant to have a partner.

One thing he had in his life was his right to choose. He made it long ago, the moment he stepped out of the alien pod chamber. It was her turn. She chose to come with him, and in an instant, he robbed her of that right. And he was wrong.

History. He kept repeating it like some self-fulfilling prophecy.

No more. No more.

He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life chasing her, or having her running to keep up with him. He wanted a partner. Someone to walk at his side, through his life. Not for just a short time. Whatever came. Whatever happened, no matter how long, one thing he knew in his heart was that one moment with her, one touch of her lips was worth more than a lifetime alone.

Maria found her dream. She just gave it to him as well. He wanted his mate. Someone that shared his soul and heart. He would find her this one time, since he tossed her away, and he would never let her wander from him again. Where she went, so did he.

~~~

“Why do you go on?”

Maria paused from where she was feasting on his skin. Why did she go on? Good question. One she never expected from him. It was too…thoughtful.

“It is what I do.”

Michael pushed her off him. Sex was good. Too good. It was distracting him. He needed to really talk to her. He needed to understand.

“Explain.”

Maria shrugged. “I’m the expert at surviving. All my wounds festering and bleeding. It matters not. I’ve been the walking dead all my life. My father leaves. I go on. My boyfriend dumps me. I go on. He tells me he can’t be with me, that he is leaving. I go on. He makes love to me, takes my virginity, and then walks out the door to never return. I go on. My best friend dies. I go on. I search for a dream and wake up to realize I left it behind, and when I return he no longer wants me. I go on. My best friend turns her back on me becoming something I don’t even know. I go on. My love leaves me forever. I go on. They torture me. Place electrodes on my body. Shock me. Tear strips off my skin. Inject me with a chemical that burns my veins. I go on. I watched as the only human contact I have, slowly dies from torture. I go on. I am pregnant and alone. Scared. I go on. I wait for death in a White Room. I go on. My mother dies in my arms, murdered by my secrets and lies. I go on.”

Maria was silent for a second, and Michael listened in horror. Was that how she totaled up her very life? That was all? All the desertion, all the pain. She continued to survive, not because she was strong. She survived rather because she was cursed.

“History is a nightmare from which I am trying to wake.”

“Maria…wait!”

Michael woke suddenly to the darkness of reality. She wouldn’t tell him where she was because she needed the time to heal, and so did he.

Take the time. Make the journey.

Want was a terrible thing. But that was the difference between adults and children. A child wanted it now. Immediately. An adult could appreciate the importance of working for something, the treasure it becomes from not only anticipation, but from the effort it cost.

He would follow the trails.

Michael sat up in bed. It was late. Real late. Kyle wasn’t back yet.

Taking a piece of the stationary from the hotel supply along with an envelope, Michael decided it was time he wrote Maria a letter.

My love,

Will you ever read this? I wonder. Will I ever grow up enough to find you?

I think I understand. Finally. Take the time. Make the journey. You meant to grow up, to learn to live with regrets, and to go on.

Regrets I have. Many. I don’t know if I can let them go. All these years, have I ever recovered from Hank? I don’t think so. No really. He made me. Carved me. Created what there was in my human soul. I once thought a heart couldn’t hurt as much as mine. I denied that heart. Hid it. I needed to hide it, because I couldn’t let you see how flawed it was. All I have is my flawed alien heart. It barely knows how to feel.

Or it didn’t before you. You taught me how to use it.

Did you ever wonder why I never tried destiny with Isabel? I can tell you. It was simple. She couldn’t make me feel. I could care for as a sister, even a friend, but never once did she stop my heart in my chest, flatten me with a feeling of overwhelming need, or even inspire such a powerful lust that my bones shook from the need. As an alien, the alien King, I felt things for Isabel, or maybe it was Vilandra. Was it love? No. It was possession. Almost a violence akin to hate. Property. The kind of darkness that makes a person use something, over and over again, not because they adore it, treasure it, but because it belongs to them like property. A thing. Something to use, rape, and discard.

I never tried destiny because there was no feeling in my heart for her. Not like that. Not love. My alien heart knows no emotion like love or gentleness, but my human one does. It feels you. How could I ever give up that feeling for nothing? It took me a long time to understand that all the good parts in me are my human ones, and they temper my alien side to something approachable. That was a hard realization, I who had no conscience. I who wanted to feel nothing, but my alieness. Do you remember the time I told you that you made me feel human, and you asked if that was a bad thing? It was. It was bad for my untried heart that never felt anything. It taught me what true want was, and how cold my lonely alien existence was. Gray. No sunshine. No hope. Nothing. After warming before a fire, who wants to return to the cold?

You think I love you not. You are wrong. How can I tell you what words are in my heart when they have no meaning in the language of men? How can I describe something as wondrous as creation? What I feel most the time about you is sheer shock. Shock that you ever wanted to touch me.

My body and soul was diseased. I waited forever for you to realize that, and leave.

What made me? I don’t know. I had nothing to offer you, except my abused body and soul, and a heart that barely knew how to beat. So little to give. You deserved more.

You and I. Always our trouble was that neither of us could believe in our own self-worth, so it was impossible to understand how someone else could. You are my angel. Light. Goodness. Purity. Touching you was like touch fire. Kissing you…

My God, Maria. Your eyes. Your mouth. Those lips and your legs. Everything. There wasn’t a part of you I didn’t lust after, want, adore, or just hold in awe. Do you…can you even imagine how impossible it is to finally understand how fragile and unsure you are? You, who are everything?

If I told you I love you would you believe? Could you see in my heart, and know what I can’t seem to find words to say?

I’ll never stop looking for you. I will never give up on the dream of you and me together. My love. Such small hands to hold so much of my heart. How will I go on if I don’t have you? I’m not like you. I wish I were.

Michael finished the letter, and added it in a sealed envelope with Maria’s name in his pocket with the others she wrote for him. Someday. Someday he would give them to her, so she could finally know how deeply she touched him. If he was once her dream, then he could only say that she was his.

He turned off the light to sleep dreamless.

~~~

“God!”

Kyle agreed. That was…wow! What the hell? Molly flopped over on her back breathing hard. Was that supposed to happen?

She had just broke up with her high school boyfriend. He was such a jerk. Kyle. He seemed so sweet. Cute in a totally sexy way. Needing to reassert herself, and her independence, it was easy to want to seduce him. He was passing through, so there couldn’t be any strings. But, she didn’t expect this!

“What was that?”

“An orgasm?” Kyle ventured tenuously. Smiling, he laid back smugly. Finally! An alien benefit.

“I had orgasms before…or I thought I had. That was…oh god! Can you do it again?”

Kyle felt himself beginning to get hard. He really should be going back to the hotel. Leave now, before Molly got any sense about her and started asking questions.

Molly's tongue darted out then, licking at his lips; and Kyle felt her hand slide down to brush against his rapidly stiffening cock. She was beginning to pump his cock faster now, her fist wrapped tightly around it, until all Kyle could see was the glistening head. Kyle felt his own breathing begin to increase; he knew his heart rate was off the meter. Why hadn't Michael or Max told him? They could’ve mentioned how incredible it felt to feel thousands of bolts of energy cascading through his body, shooting out of his dick.

It would’ve been nice to know that he was going to have a damn addiction problem for the rest of his life. Sex. More sex. All kinds of sex. Hell, he couldn’t wait to see if jerking himself off was going to create the same results. Now how the hell did Max stop having sex for over a year after Tess? Damn, as far he could see, even when Michael and Maria weren’t together, they barely could keep apart. Actually they couldn’t. That was why she ended up pregnant. Molly. He forgot he still had a bed partner.

He watched Molly's lips part again, and his own mouth opened slightly, as though kissing her across the distance. A slight intake of air, and Molly whispered, "Kyle..."

Kyle had been in the process of imagining those luscious lips moving across his, and opened his eyes wide with surprise at the sound of his name. Molly was as addicted to the feeling as well? This could be a problem. Well, later, maybe.

Right now? There wasn’t a damn thing wrong. Molly seemed like she was concentrating. Kyle grinned when he realized just what Molly was focusing on. He quickly placed his lips over Molly’s, and gently forced her mouth open with his tongue. At the same time he replaced Molly's hand with his own, and began stroking the hard cock; at a slightly slower speed than Molly had been going. He wanted to make this last. The stimulation was hardening him, but not enough to knock him off. He explored her mouth, seeking out each crevice with his tongue, savoring the taste of Molly’s mouth. Molly was not completely gone; she returned the kiss, caressing Kyle's tongue with her own, moaning into his mouth. Their tongues tangled frantically until Kyle was afraid he wouldn't last, and broke off the kiss, gasping for air as he pulled away. Removing his own hand from his flesh, he had to stop that too or it was going to be all over.

He kissed his way over to Molly's ear, then licked around the outer edge, and breathed into it. "Molly..." He licked the ear again, and repeated her name, a little louder this time. She just moaned and leaned into him again. Kyle kissed his way down to her breast, and licked at each nipple, stopping there. Worrying them. Teasing. Oh god, she was really racked. He stayed there for a long time before continuing downward. He licked downward, taking time to explore her navel thoroughly. As he neared her straining lower body he was suddenly surprised to feel a flood of warmth as soon as his mouth touched her, his tongue moved along her folds. She was already way ahead of him. He looked up to find Molly's eyes gazing at him…mirrors of the heat and lust that were present in his own. Okay. Fine. He could get back to the hotel a little later.

"Molly." His voice sounded husky, unused. "I was--"

"If you say, stop or go home, I’ll stomp you to death in my high heels.”

Kyle laughed smiling a wicked smile. “That is suppose to deter me, right? Not turn me on?”

“Come here." Molly's voice was hoarse, raspy. "Kyle..."

She tugged him up her body withering under him, wanting to feel him all along her skin. Delicious. So incredible how sensitive ever inch of her felt, like all her body hair was standing on end. Kyle stretched out full length against Molly, leaving his hand where his mouth had been, still pumping gently. His fingers fucking her, keeping her moving and primed. Molly turned to face him, and lowered her mouth to his. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, and could taste herself in his mouth. Their tongues moved together, rough silk and velvet, caressing each other. Molly pulled back slightly and traced an outline of Kyle's mouth with her tongue, then took that full lower lip in her mouth and sucked on it.

“Kyle?”

Kyle just groaned and snaked his hand down to Molly's ass, try to pull her even closer. Molly took that as a signal, and she joined their bodies, moving over him, straddling his hips and taking him inside her again. Kyle moved his head back and let his hands go to her hips, as she began moving her hips against him; pressing their bodies together in a long hard stroke. They both groaned as electricity sizzled between them. Molly's hips began bucking, and she groaned into Kyle's mouth as she came in hot spurts all over both of them, riding him hard.

Kyle could hear something. It sounded like his voice, but he couldn’t recognize the sound. Maybe it was Molly. Sweet Jesus.

They lay entwined for a moment, allowing their breathing to slow down slightly. Then Kyle flipped Molly onto her back and straddled her legs. He ran his hands upward to gather her breasts, pausing to savor the silky sensation of her skin. His fingers sought out plump nipples, and teased the swollen red nubs into hard, aching points which he then soothed with his tongue as Molly whimpered wordlessly. After licking and sucking until she was writhing beneath him, Kyle returned his attention to her mouth; tasting, teasing. He alternated long and short kisses; and returned instantly as soon as he broke away. Molly's mouth was an addictive substance, one he wanted to taste over and over. This was a great break of a year of celibacy.

Kyle had reached down and was caressing his own cock, pumping the shaft slowly; enjoying the feel of pressure building slowly, smiling as he saw Molly watching him. She pulled away from Kyle's mouth to look down at him, eyes hot with need. "I want you, Kyle. Don’t go. Stay the night."

“Maybe.”

Molly smiled, a slow, seductive smile that made Kyle's stomach clench and his rapidly hardening cock twitch. "What do you want from me?"

"I want to fuck you."

“You already did. Twice.”

“Appetizer. I can do better.”

Molly’s entire body shuddered as those words came from that mouth. She reached down and began caressing Kyle's cock with her hand, felt shivers of desire rushing through her body. Amazing how incredible sex could be with someone who obviously knew what he was going. That thought did not compliment her old boyfriend.

She glanced back up at Kyle and felt as though she would catch fire from the heat in his eyes. "You can, huh?" Molly lowered her eyelids slightly, affecting a sleepy look. "Ask nice."

Kyle laughed and delved downward as Molly groaned.

~~~

Michael let himself back into the room. Kyle was just coming out of the bathroom in boxers, rubbing his hair dry. His body was an interesting display of sexual adventure.

“About time you showed up.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch. Here aren’t I?”

“It’s been almost twenty-four hours, Kyle. You walk out of here with a strange woman about a year older than you, and don’t come back.”

Kyle smiled smugly. “It was a very productive twenty-four hours. I’m beat. Ordered us dinner. Pizza. It should be here in a few if you want to shower.”

“Thanks.” Michael looked at the other man and just went to shower. He just spent the day in a library looking up all the national seashores. He had quite a few from the Carolinas to the gulf coast. He narrowed it down.

She said the barrier Islands protected the gulf. The Gulf of Mexico, Baja, or around Corpus Christi? A storm in every ‘port’? The Missing state. Mississippi? The ‘miss’ state?

He found the Gulf Island National Seashore. It ran from Cat Island, Mississippi to Santa Rosa, Florida.

Michael did an Internet searches on places to stay near the Gulf Islands. He found Gulfport, Mississippi. It was a heavy gambling town, even had a riverboat casino. ‘I would hate to miss the greatest gamble that a missing state can offer a wandering soul.’

Finally, he checked the regional motels…

Magnolia Plantation, Gulfport, Mississippi. Magnolia flower had white petals. He had sat there staring at the white flower petal that had fallen out of the envelope. Finally risking it, he placed a call to the Magnolia Plantation. A Mrs. Charles Dupree had stayed there for over a month.

They were going to the seashore.

~~~

“So why didn’t you tell me?”

“About?

Kyle munched on this eighth piece of pizza. He was starving. He had eaten in almost twenty-four hours. If it wasn’t for Molly falling into an exhausted heap, he probably still be there fucking her brains out, or at least his own. Actually it was almost too embarrassing to admit, but she had fallen asleep on him, he finished off in her sleeping body.

“Sex. This damn overwhelming feeling that comes with it.”

Michael shrugged. What was there to tell? It all felt pretty natural to him. Was there suppose to be another way? How would he know that? One lover. One love of his life. It was all he knew.

“I mean, damn I was one fucking machine. Exhausted, then the orgasm hit and it was like my body was wired. Ready. Go again. Go. Go. Go.”

“Kyle, this never happened before?”

“No way! If it had I would’ve been the West Roswell High stud!”

Michael ate his pizza and thought about it. That couldn’t be good. He felt it before too. The rush. The need to keep going. Pushing. Taking. Making his impact in Maria. There was once when he couldn’t stop. It was like a self-feeding loop of pleasure and energy. He almost fucked her and himself to death. That was when he learned moderation. Slowing the pace. Not rushing like a work horse powering to the end, pumping until his heart stopped beating.

The first time he took it so slow and easy. Savored. It blew his head off. Hit him harder than all the other times. She had melted into him. Became mixed in his blood like a fever. He could taste her for days. Sex was sex, and any stupid horse could do it to death. But love was the real pay-off. Doing it with love, thought, and care, the mere act became more. It transcended.

“You need to back off from it Kyle. I can’t explain it, but there is a danger in just recreational fucking. You can become ensnared in a trap of sensual pleasure, like a narcotic high. Fucking yourself and your partner into a grave.”

Kyle stopped chewing. “It happened to you before?”

“Once. I didn’t like the sensation. It was like my heart was about to explode in my chest. I couldn’t breath, and it actually hurt in all my joints. It almost felt like what I think the bends would feel like. Hurt. It hurt. Maria was in worse shape. I used her, and used her, and didn’t stop even when she was too tired to go on. It felt like rape almost. Almost.”

Kyle turned pale at that. He…they, okay so maybe he did understand what Michael was trying to say.

“Find a connection, Kyle. A special someone you can connect to, and you can take it another step upward. The orgasm and sexual desire doesn’t make a slave of you, but becomes part of making love. You can reach higher, gentler, slower, almost like eating chocolate and letting it melt in your mouth. I passed out few times from that. It is more intense, and you don’t feel on the threshold of death.”

Kyle grabbed another slice. He should’ve ordered three pizzas instead of two large. Michael was making fast work of it.

“This alien orgasm should come with instructions, or a damn manual. How’d you figure it out? Max?”

Michael just laughed. “Max? Um, no. Not Max. Let’s just say, Maria. Every time I would go to speed out of control, she reigned me back in, slowed me down. She got so good at controlling my responses a few times she almost blew my head off with how easily she could reach into me. It made the difference.”

“And Max didn’t warn about this raging out of control need to just fuck?”

Michael grabbed the last meat lover’s supreme slice despite the glare from Kyle. “Nope. Never. He mentioned the one hour orgasm, but not in any detail or any sense of awe. I don’t think he ever got that far into it before it was turned off for a year.”

Kyle cussed under his breath. Damn. No way. A year? His body was already clamoring for more. Another hit of hot wild sex. How the heck did Max hold out for a damn year? He didn’t think he was going to last an hour or two. He already jerked off in the shower, and answered an important question. It didn’t do anything for him. Not like sex.

Michael sighed hard. He recognized the look in Kyle’s eyes. He saw it in his own after him and Maria first became sexually active.

“Kyle, just be careful, okay? Careful who and what you’re doing. Don’t make a connection with a woman unless you’re serious. Deadly serious.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The path of energy runs both ways. She feels it too. Connected you’ll be, my young apprentice.” Michael said in his best Yoda voice. “ I don’t know, but I think it is irreversible. Your partner will feel everything, want it as much as you, about as often if not more. It will never be a selfish act again, but a partnership of sharing energy at a higher cosmic level. Imagine how a woman would feel who made the connection with you, as you moved on, giving your heart, body and soul to another? How would you feel if you made a connection with a woman, and she moved on?”

Michael could say. It was how it felt when Maria broke up with him. He couldn’t shake her from his body. His mind. His heart. She was too entrenched, and he couldn’t fathom how she could just stay away. Disbelief and hurt ran to horror, and then to anger. She was his, how could she not know that?

“What is the longest for you?”

Michael understood the question. He wanted to know how long his connection could be strained. “The longest is three weeks. Even apart, we never fully stayed apart. Things happened. We happened. Couldn’t keep our hands or mouth off each other. Our bodies always knew how to talk, it was our brains and mouths that tripped us up.”

“You were parted for over five months.”

Michael shrugged. “Only physically. There were always dreams. It was weak. Pulled to the limit, but I could still feel her. It was enough to feed the need.” Michael wiped his mouth. “It was the nightmare that were the hardest to take. It felt like feeling your mate in trouble, hurt, in pain, and being hunted, and being unable to find or get to her. It…I think I would’ve cut off my own arm to get to her.”

“So this dreaming sex thing you’ve got going now is…”

“Feeding the thirst, until we can be together. I think it feels so imperative right now because of the distance.”

Kyle whistled softly under his breath. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t such a great side effect. Tess. She gave her heart, body, and soul to Max. Her body took his baby inside it. Before that, before Alex, she never had a clue that it would happen, that she would get Max until it was too late. Alex was already damaged. Tess had started using Alex over the fall and winter break, while Max was mooning over Liz, refusing to follow destiny. Then she finally got Max, to discover he only used her for sex, and if it weren’t for the baby, he would’ve walked away. How much of a connection does an alien-alien mating make he wondered.

Tess, faced with a man that would never stop thinking of Liz Parker probably was half crazy with it. With rage. Max had to have made a connection with her, all those times they practiced on his memories. Maybe the connection was left over from the previous life together? Every time Max kissed her, Tess probably saw his thoughts, saw Liz Parker. It was the first of many nails in their coffins as Tess planned to take them home to Antar, and their own deaths. Women scorned…

“You know, we maybe should figure out this latest clue fast and get back on the road,” Kyle said.

“Afraid she’ll come looking for you?” Michael said nastily. Served him right. Thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

“I was pretty outstanding.” Kyle said not really all that modest about it. He’d tone it down tomorrow.

“I already figured it out. You are going to love it!”

“Tell me.”

“There is gambling.”

“Righteous! I’ve always loved Maria.”

Michael laid back in the bed replenished with the pizza. He felt pretty good. “Stay away from my woman.”

~~~

Gulfport was easy. No searching. He signed in as Charles Dupree.

“Mr. Dupree. There is a special box waiting for you.” The clerk went to locate the box. His name had been flagged in the computer. What if another Charles Dupree had checked in before him? His letter. Gone to some unsuspecting sap whose wife would near kill him for receiving love letters from a strange woman. His trail would’ve been cold. She took a huge risk leaving it at the front desk.

Maria was weary. Tired.

He needed to figure it out soon. She was almost four months pregnant by the time she reached here. That was over two months ago.

The clerk came back with a security box. It was heavy. Iron. The type of box people kept important papers in.

“Do you have a key?”

“No Sir. I believe your wife, who left it said that the correct Charles Dupree would be able to open it. I assumed that you would have a key.”

Michael nodded. He quickly pulled the car keys from his pocket, and pretended to fit a key in the lock under his hand, quickly using his alien power to push the lock open. Opening the box in front of the clerk, he quickly looked in. There was a letter. A letter, and a video tape. Smiling Michael picked up the tape and showed the clerk.

“Video player?”

“I’ll have one brought upstairs.”

They went upstairs to their room, and Kyle threw himself on his bed while Michael watched the bellhop install the video player. It took more moments than he had patience for, but it was finally accomplished.

Popping in the tape, he was hoping to see Maria. A real picture of her pregnant, and talking. He never knew he could miss the sound of her voice.

“Maybe she sent us porn.”

Michael scowled at Kyle. He was still hyped up over his Molly shag-a-thon. Maybe he shouldn’t let him lose in a town with gambling. No telling how much Kyle could find himself, or what new alien trick might come up. Vegas had been bad enough with him throwing dice. They couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves.

It was bad enough that Maria and Laurie were using the Dupree name. It was a small wonder that the government hadn’t tracked them down. But they were using Charles’ name, and not Laurie. DeLuca would’ve been worse.

“Maria doesn’t know you would be with me. Believe me, there is no way in hell that Maria would encourage me to watch porn, especially without her.”

Kyle’s eyebrow went up. Those two were living up to their outer appearance. Very sexual. Very kinky.

Michael was suddenly quiet as the video tape came on. It was a…Kyle wasn’t sure what it was. The swooshing noise, and the black screen with white movement. Numbers at the top, and bottom.

Michael moved closer, his hand reaching out to touch the screen.

“What is it?” Kyle was confused by Michael’s reaction.

“My daughter.”

“No shit!” Kyle moved in closer. A fetal ultrasound. Michael turned up the sound. “What is that noise?”

“Her heartbeat.” Michael remained riveted to the television, and Kyle watched him for a moment, and then quietly left the room to leave him to work through his emotions in private.

~~~

My beloved one,

How do you keep? Do you dream? Are they full of me? Do I walk in your mind, or do you walk in mine? Please do not walk in mine. I don’t want you to see what is in there. The memories.

I don’t want it to touch you. Us. Or our baby.

I saw the baby today. Ultrasound. I had to go to the doctor, just to know if it was okay. A girl. My love, you are going to be a father of a little girl. Perfect. She is perfect. So small. Tiny. Alive. Healthy. I was worried. Before they knew I was pregnant, they injected me with drugs. Drugs that burned and hurt, made my mind crazy. Did they harm my unborn child? I was afraid.

If I lose her, I lose you. It’s all I have left, all I have to hold onto.

Can you see it in your mind? A small towed headed version of the two of us? Small delicate, but stubborn as all hell? Following you about. Calling you daddy, and talking a mile a minute about everything?

I’ve stayed here long enough. The seashore was a comfort. Quiet. Vast and peaceful. The birds in flight uplifting to the skies. The clouds passing away my day. I thought of them. All of them. Those now gone. Those left behind. And those on the journey. But mostly, I thought of you.

How can a body and heart want so much, and not destroy itself. I dream of your body next to mine. I hear your voice and laughter, or just that grunting thing you do. I woke in the dark and thought I saw you sitting in a chair in the corner of my room, reading a magazine. You looked up at me as scratched your eyebrow, never once did you speak. I’m use to that. So many words lost in silence, but my darling love, words weren’t necessary I could read your body, your eyes, and at time when you let me, even your heart.

I believe it is time, finally. Time to bury the dead, and go on. I know I will always mourn, but I can no longer let it live inside like a festering disease. There is a time for everything. It will be Easy. Some place Big. I want them to have a memorial. If I could find a rock to build my chapel on, and the Saints were kind, there I’d place a chantry for our fallen most honored dead. Lost. But never forgotten. I love them still. This is a place where the infirmed can heal. That is where I’ll go. It is time. Time to heal.

And you my darling Michael. What of you? Can you feel the need to heal? To forgive? Will the release of pain lighten your soul and bring you to my side? I pray for you, my love. For there is nothing, nothing but you in my heart, and without you is not easy. I live to feel your touch just one more time.

The Old Man of the Sea, he is changing. As a walk to Proteus along the path of life. All sea changes as ‘God becomes man becomes fish becomes barnacle goose becomes feather bed mountain.’ How have I wandered so far from myself? I am exiled. Estranged.

‘Proteus was a god not only of alteration, but of alteration, pattern, and persistence. He is the sea, which though never the same for two successive moments has always been the same.’ That is you, my love. Every changing. Ever the same. The dynamic stability of living things. It is our love. Ever changing. Ever the same.

“Michael?” Kyle softly from the door, unwilling to disturb the other man, but needing to see him move. He sat there, still as a statue for well over an hour. The tape was on the television, paused so he could see his daughter, and read Maria’s letter. Time and again. It was becoming a pattern. Her voice in her letters held him entranced. Every step along the way he understood more about her, and more about himself. She was making him see in ways he never thought to look.

He was growing up. It hurt. Persistence. Persistence.

“Yeah?”

“Do we need to find answers about where she is going? Maybe a library or something?”

“No. I know. The Big Easy. New Orleans. A cemetery. She is going to bury our dead, or the pain she carries for them. The sorrow she will keep.”

“Which cemetery?”

Michael shook his head. “I don’t know, but it will have a Saint’s name, something to do with a rock, and there will be a chapel, someplace to heal.”

“You want to go out? Look on the Internet or something?”

Michael shook his head. “No. You go. Look around. Gamble. I’ve gambled enough in my life. One thing I know is that you should never gamble with something you are unwilling to lose.”

Kyle looked at the ground and left the other man sitting in the dark staring at his unborn child. Gambled. Michael gambled with his life, and his love for Maria. He had almost lost. For a space in time, they had her. She was all but dead, and his child lost. It was a strange twist of fate in the form of their parents, and Amy DeLuca that shifted the odds back to him. He was given a second chance. Michael Guerin would never gamble again in his life.

~~~

“You’re naked!” Maria said excitedly as she hit the bed next to him on both knees bouncing.

Michael just chuckled. Yeah. He thought she would like that. “We never discussed baby’s names. I saw the tape. I think we should find a name.”

Maria plucked the book from his hands. Baby names. “Reading a lot lately, spaceboy?”

“Pretty much everything I can find on babies, pregnancy, and being a first time parent. Kyle thinks I’m insane. There are more books in my backpack than clothes. Now how is that for life altering?”

“I’m impressed. Kyle? So he is with you?”

“Yes. He is starting to change.” Michael noticed how quiet Maria suddenly became. “Maria, baby, what’s wrong?” Strange how easy endearment now flew off his tongue. It was the love letters. They were making them easier to say, to think in that way.

“How is he changing? Will it…will he be mean?”

Michael closed his eyes, and leaned back pulling her across his body. She meant would he lose his humanity. His sense of self and right and wrong. Would he become a mean alien, or even a Liz Parker caught up in her own life at the cost of all those around her she once loved.

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Michael cupped the back of her head and forced her to look at him. “He is still human. Something of it has to survive. It does in Liz too. I know she doesn’t feel like the friend you once knew, but she is still there, Maria. She is just caught in a web, just like the rest of us. She is still human. She made mistakes. Made bad choices that cost her much in her friendships with you and Alex, and the loss of her home and parents.”

Maria smiled slightly. He had already come so far. He was trying to mustard sympathy for Liz. She didn’t know if she could ever find it in her to forgive Liz. Liz was someone she truly loved, like a sister, unconditionally. It was harder to forgive someone that close for so long. Michael was easier. She never expected much from him. He trained her not to, so every effort he made that seemed so much more than expected was so appreciated and admired. Michael started in low estimates and rose to higher ones. Liz was always set up high. Almost revered. It was no wonder that her fall was like the fall of man. Hard. Long. Harsh. Unforgivable. What happens when an idol is found to have very clay feet, and the pedestal they topple from comes with such high prices?

Maybe the fault was hers? For ever believing that Liz was more. The best of all of them. It just hurt when she proved to be so much less. Alex was the trade off, and never could Maria believe that it was a good trade. She was fast becoming a racist against aliens. Something she needed to work on letting go. After all, the love of her life was one, and so was her child. She needed to let it go, learn to go on. Tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow.

Maria nodded against his chest. Enough. She didn’t want to talk about it. No now. She wanted to be better than that, but it was still a long journey. This growing up was hard.

“We did talk about names, you know.”

Michael snorted noticing the change in subject, but letting it go. “Obviously, Bruno isn’t a good name for my daughter.”

Maria made a high laugh sitting up. “Bruno wasn’t a good name for a son!” Maria looked at him. He was so incredibly beautiful. “What names you have in mind, spaceboy?”

“Amy.” Michael said. “I want to name her Amy. Your mother saved your life, and the baby saved your life.”

“Michael…” Maria looked away breathing hard. Amy. Her mother. She…she couldn’t…

“Maria?” Michael sat up in concern. Her eyes were flooded with tears, and she seemed to be struggling. “Maria! What is it? Is it the baby? Maria?”

She scrambled from the bed in a panic, looking around and bending over. Her breath was coming in loud pants, crying. Couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breath.

Michael watched helpless as she struggled. It hit him. A wave of emotions. Sorrow. Pain. Deep, long, unending sorrow.

She faded as his voice called her name…

~~~

When Kyle came back he found a distressed Michael. The room was a shambles. Michael was rushing around, moving things with his mind. Struggling.

“Michael!” Kyle stopped him, forced him to sit on the bed. “What is it? What happened?”

Michael couldn’t talk. He was clawing at his throat. “Can’t…I can’t…”

Kyle shook his head. Can’t what. Michael was struggling to breath. His face was red. Panic. He was panicked. Kyle looked around, found a bag. Emptying it, he forced Michael to breath in it.

“You need to calm down. Breath in the bag. Breath!” A panic attack. Michael never seemed the type.

“It’s not me,” gasped Michael breathing hard in the bag. “Maria! It’s Maria.”

They waited as Michael slowly calmed, his breathing coming easier and easier. He laid back on the bed, tried to restore a calmness he couldn’t feel. His heart was pounding in his throat. His body hurt. He could feel a shaking in his very bones. She…

God. Maria.

“What is it? What? The baby?”

Michael gasped trying to find words. “Sorrow. She is sorrow.” He hurt. In his life he had hurt, but not like this. Not like this. She was trapped in the pain of loss. Her mother. He could feel it. Not her death. It was that Amy would never see her namesake. Never hold her granddaughter. Never laugh. Never cry. It was as if in that moment, the stark reality that Amy DeLuca no longer existed hit Maria. Hard.

“I…Maria…” Michael couldn’t find the words. He wasn’t aware of a tear rolling down his cheek. “It’s Amy…god! She can’t think her mother’s name. Say it. It hurts too much. Hurts.” His breathing shallowed again, and the struggled increased. Kyle grabbed the bag and shoved it at him.

“Breath, damn you! Breath. This can’t be good for her! It can’t be good for the baby. Just calm yourself. Clear you mind. If you can feel her, she can feel you. Send her your calm. Calm her, Michael.

Michael nodded and slowly breathed in the bag, clearing his mind of everything. No Amy. No death. No pain. Nothing but Maria. Kyle reached over and turned on the video again. He laid there in bed and listened to his daughter’s heartbeat.

It’ll be okay.

Kyle watched as Michael finally fell asleep.

Connections. Pieces of him mixed with pieces of her. How the hell did they get that entangled? He couldn’t fathom it. He never saw it before, not even between Max and Liz. What had they done that was so different? Even when they weren’t together, they were still not apart. They never strayed more than a few steps from the other, and always found their way back. It was like something unconscious inside them longed to be with the other, a completion, and despite what their stubborn pride said, the need and draw was too strong to deny.

Michael was right. He needed to take care. Take it slow. This strange alien stuff could carry large impacts in his life, and in others.

Watching the other man sleep still grasping a paper bag, he turned off the video, but not until he watched it a little longer.

Little Amy.

You have no idea how much you are loved. How much you are needed. They needed a life to replace what was lost. Their daughter. She would make all the struggles worth it the moment she breathed her first breath. She was their redemption. They needed her to prove that life was worth all the cost it took to survive. Life. She was life.

Amy Guerin was going to be a very special child in all their lives.

~~~

“You okay?”

Michael nodded. She was calm. Silent. He could still feel her, but she wasn’t sobbing in pain and despair. It would take longer than six months before she’d let go of all her grief. She was lying in her bed, rubbing her stomach. Thinking.

He could almost see her. Too thin. Tired. Eyes shadowed with the pain of living. Her thin pale hand rubbing her stomach. Michael closed his eyes to the image. Need. It was a wracking feeling moving through his body. He needed. Her. To be there. Holding her.

There were too many miles between them. Not just physical miles, but emotional and mental ones. She was keeping a part of herself closed off. The part of her that lived through being taken. Heal. Feel better. How could a body feel so bad? When did it come to be too much. Hold on.

I’m here. I am still here.

Maria. She survived because that was what she did.

“You with me?”

Kyle’s voice dragged him from his thoughts. Michael sat up in the bed and nodded. Yeah. He was still here too.

“What did you find?”

“Besides a panicking Michael Guerin?” Kyle smiled a little at the evil glare tossed his way. Better. A pissy Michael was so much easier to handle than one pulled apart from the inside out. “A cemetery in New Orleans called St. Rochs. It has a chapel with a special niche, one dedicated to the Healed. There are crutches left there, many things.”

Another letter left by Maria? Another step on a non-ending journey?

“We leave tomorrow.”

Kyle agreed. It was time to get this man home before he broke into pieces. The quiet brooding Michael had given away to a much more mature one. One that carried sorrow and regret etched on his face, and a sense of isolation on his skin. It was time for him to find his way, find his daughter, and to find his lost love.

~~~

Michael couldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t come. He could feel her fighting sleep. She didn’t feel strong enough to be with him. It increased the feeling of isolation. Strange how having her in his head at nights, in his dreams gave him comfort. He looked forward to it.

When they were first together, she spent lots of time in his apartment. That was before Max came to stay with him. They would eat together, talk, laugh, make love, and argue over the most mundane of topics. She made him want to know things. Anything. Everything. Sometimes just to have a subject to argue with her over. Nothing was better than seeing her mouth open in an ‘O’, and an indicant cry, or her just telling him forcefully her position. No one ever got in his face and spit in his eye and told him he was full of bullshit. No one except Maria.

Isabel stood up to him, but she used a cold voice dripping in sarcasm and disapproval. It got better once Isabel lost her cold Ice Princess routine, but not really. She was still Isabel. Max. Max just rolled his eyes, or lectured him on what was ‘proper’. Strange how things changed. Once he couldn’t imagine not admiring and respecting Max Evans, and now he barely liked knowing him. How far had they come? The years cost them much more than lives. It cost them their friendship. But what was a friendship built on necessity? They were all they ever had, no one else. Alone they banded together, and from the moment Max healed Liz and let her in, those bands that held them together began disintegrating. Suddenly Max stopped looking to him and Isabel for advice, or help. There was only Liz. As time went by, they moved apart more and more. That which could not be broken was. The farther they drifted, the harder it became to hold it all together. There was so much dissention among them. Anger.

Future Max was a wuss. It wasn’t that Tess wasn’t let in, and was forced to leave. It was what he could never admit, even standing at the brink of destruction of all he knew, all the blood of the innocents splattered on his soul. It was not that Tess hadn’t stayed. It was that Liz Parker had lived. That he, the King, Max Evans reached out his hand and saved her, a stranger, someone that he had no ties to beyond a nodding acquaintance, and started a storm that raged on from that point onward.

Forgive. Max was right. He never could forgive that. Never forgive Liz for being the reason of that betrayal. And he never forgave Liz for breaking their unbreakable alliance. Watching them all self-satisfied and happy, knowing the cost and how it hurt so many already, and unable to predict how many to come, it was hard not to hate everything about them.

Take the time. Make the journey.

Forgiveness. She was giving him time to learn forgiveness.

Not just for Max and Liz, Isabel, or even her. She wanted him to learn forgiveness for himself. To learn to forgive himself.

This time was for him. He had no more energy to hate Max and Liz. All he had left for them was his indifference. He couldn’t care about Vilandra, and what was past. Isabel was the only sister he ever knew, and she was hurting and alone. Lost.

Maria paid for his pride. It was enough. Maria was right. It was time to bury the past. Heal. Go on.

History is a nightmare from which I am trying to awake.

Yes. History. Their history. Their past. It was time to take back life.

My love, my Maria.

How is it that I can breath without you? Am I living or am I dead? There is no color to this world without you. I see, but I am blind. Nothing tastes.

Where are you?

I am coming, my love. I am coming to where you are.

Once you said that you could write words that would burn the very paper it was written upon. In my heart, the very same words are for you. How can I, he that has never had a moment of romance in his soul find a way to touch yours? I want to be that man. A man so honest that I could touch you with a kiss, with a word. I want to be open to you. Exposed.

Not forever. I don’t think I could hold it that long, but I am tired. Tired of pushing. Tired of fighting. Tired of searching for something, I know not. It is too difficult to just say ‘I love you’ and mean it. Would it be enough?

I could write a word that would reveal my heart to you, if you cared to read it. It is tattooed there on my soul. One word. One thought. One reality. The word breathes the very life of my existence. It rings out in utter melancholy and clouds the air with a perfume so wondrous, a taste that craves.

Maria.

It is all I know.

I’m missing you with everything inside me. How humiliating to realize that I always thought I could come back and you would be there, waiting. My vanity and pride led to this.

I am learning to find my way back to you. Today I realized that you are doing the same. Perhaps in that stillness of the dawn, in the early morning’s gloom as the first rays hit the earth, you and I can find each other, and touch just for a moment. Just a touch. I need that so much. Is it time, honey? Time to leave the shadows and walk in the sunlight where all the nightmare fade away, burned out by the light?

~~~

New Orleans. The Big Easy.

The hotel they chose was in the French Quarter. Hotel Marie on Toulouse St. Maria had stayed there. There was no message for Charles Dupree. It took breaking into the hotel records to find Maria Dupree listed. A suite. Two rooms. They had stayed for three days.

The stays were shorter. There was no one who remembered the women. It had seemed that all Maria had done was go out once, to the cemetery. They went there themselves hoping to find a message. In the special niche in the chapel of St. Rochs, there were the lit candles. The remains of the healed. Nothing. No letter.

A dead end? It couldn’t be.

Kyle saw it first. A torn out piece of newsprint. It was a death announcement for a producer in California. It appeared his ‘family’ was announcing a memorial service in Seattle. The producer’s name was Cal. Further information would be acquired from the Newspaper. Weighing the ad down on the altar were two golden keys.

“What paper is it?”

“The Clarion Herald.” Kyle reread the information. “It’s the shapeshifter? The one that was supposed to be your protector?”

“Yeah. Whatever. Some protectors these shapeshifters were. One a murderer, traitor selling us to Kivar, the other leaving us in Roswell, me with Hank all those years.” Michael glanced at Kyle, frowning he remembered Maria’s concern over Kyle. “Don’t make any mistake, Kyle. The alien thing? It’s not a gift. It is a curse. It has brought me nothing my entire life except pain. Careful what you wish for. Hope for your humanity to remain.”

Kyle patted Michael on the back. He hadn’t needed to be told. He saw it himself. Lived through it. Buddha says that a man that doesn’t reach inside his own soul, spends his life looking in a mirror, seeing nothing.

“I’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Michael just grunted. Yeah. They were doing so damn well.

One thing he knew. Seattle was next on the journey.

~~~

“Yes I’d like to inquire about this ad.”

The woman working the ad counter took it and noticed the day. Quickly accessing the information on her terminal, she passed it to Kyle. Michael was standing at the window looking across the street.

“There is not much here, Michael. Just a reception time for over six weeks ago. The reception would be held in the Alexis Hotel on 1st St. Nothing else, except that early reservations would be made. Call to confirm arrival dates.”

Michael nodded. Looking across the way, he couldn’t stop staring at the bank. “What kind of keys would you say these are?”

“I don’t know. There are two of them. Why?”

“Yeah I can count.” Michael gestured at the bank. It had an advertisement with a golden key on it. Kyle saw it then. They both exited the Clarion Herald and waited to cross Howard St. It was an advertisement for security boxes.

“Come on.”

Michael took out his ID, and quickly altered the name to say Charles Dupree.

“May I help you?”

“Yes. Safety deposit boxes?”

The woman gestured to the desk in the corner leading into the open door of a vault. Kyle followed Michael looking around. Security cameras. He hated them. His picture. Their picture was being taken numerous times.

A man glanced up at them as they arrived. He noticed their casual clothes and youth, and smiled only slightly, and not very warmly.

“May I help you?”

Michael took a seat. “Yes. My wife opened up a safety deposit box in our names. She asked me to stop and retrieve what she left inside when I was traveling through New Orleans.”

“I see.” The man accessed his computer. “Your name would be?”

“Charles Dupree.” Michael passed over his ID.

“Your wife’s name?”

“Maria Dupree.” Michael paused. “She opened it about six weeks ago while she was staying in the city. She had been vacationing at the seashore, and had to come into town for a few things.”

The man nodded. The safety box was registered to a Mr. And Mrs. Charles Dupree. Maria Dupree had opened it and retained both keys. The box was paid in full for ten years.

“Yes, Mr. Dupree. I’ve got your box number as 727. Do you have your keys? It will take both keys.”

Michael held them out in his hand.

“Follow me.”

Kyle looked around. “Um, Charles. I wait out here.” Michael looked up at the security camera and nodded.

“Sure. It should only take a moment to pick up Maria’s wedding rings.”

The man looked at him curiously as he fitted the banks key to a special one Michael held that fit together as one, and the second key in his possession was placed in its own lock.

“Her wedding rings?”

“Yeah. She is pregnant, and her fingers were swollen. She was afraid they would be lost if she left them off and took them back to the Seashore, so she left them here for safe keeping.”

“Congratulations! Your first?”

“Yeah. In about two and a half months.”

The man smiled. Amazing, Michael thought how friendly people became when a child was mentioned.

“Sure she doesn’t want to just leave them until the baby is born?”

“No. I think she is planning to wear them around her neck on a chain.” Michael watched as he opened the box, and handed Michael his keys.

“Just shut the box when are finished.”

Michael nodded and waited until the man left. Opening the box, he found her letter. No video this time. closing the box, he quickly took the letter and left. Stopping for a moment, he rested his hand on an electrical junction area just outside the vault. Sending a surge through the wire, he expected the security cameras to be fried.

Michael nodded at the man as he went to exit the bank with Kyle at his side.

“Well?” Kyle asked looking around.

“A letter. She already gave us the hotel and city. You want to take the car, or you want to fly?”

“Car.” Kyle said knowing that Michael was impatient, but an airport would be too well watched. “An airport could be a very bad day.”

“Agreed. Lets leave immediately. I’m tired of this already. I want to find Maria, and Seattle is a long ways from New Orleans.”

Kyle swore, but agreed. Life would be easier when they found the others. “Damn! Well we are going to have to make the time to come back someday. I always wanted to explore New Orleans.”

Michael smiled. Yeah he could see Kyle in the Big Easy.

~~~

It was dark. Late. He was driving. Kyle was asleep.

Two thousand and six hundred miles from New Orleans to Seattle. It was going to take them days. They could drive non-stop and make it in two, but after the first full day and night, they agreed to stop.

Just another thirty miles until the next town, and hopefully a motel. Kyle had fallen sleep outside of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. They would still have over thirty hours to drive to make Seattle.

I feel you.

Maria. Just a little longer. Soon.

Michael pulled into the first motel with a vacancy along the way. Stopping and paying for the motel room, he parked in front of the door. He got two rooms.

Kyle could probably use real sleep away from his thrashing and nightmares, talking to Maria, and getting up at all hours.

“Kyle. Bed.”

“No way, man. I told you I wasn’t gay.”

“Not with me, you asshole. I got you your own room.” Michael shoved the key in Kyle’s hand and took his stuff into the room next door. Slamming the door, he wondered if Kyle would still be sleeping in the car the next morning.

It took ten minutes but he heard the shower and television coming on next door. Pulling the drapes, Michael laid down in the bed and read his letter.

Michael,

Sweetheart, how tired are you? I am exhausted. Every step I take is like miles from home. I miss home. I miss what it always meant. My mother. Safety. Friendships. That is now all gone.

I’ve worried now that the baby is moving more. What is to be her life? Living in a van, running from the threat of a White Room?

How criminal I feel bringing a child into this, but I can’t regret her. I want her too much. I need her more. She is like a piece of you moving in me. It feels like we are joined in yet another way.

Michael, would it upset you if I told you I want more? Not just our daughter, but more children. How horrible is it of me to want this? I was an only child. It was just me and my mom. My mom. Lonely, yes. But she made it special. Made my life more even when there was no money, there was always love.

Love is the legacy I want to give my children. Something special from my mom that was given to me. I can’t…

I can’t think of her. I hurts so much that I can’t breath. It’s like the very air traps in my throat with no where to go. I want her back.

Do I regret anything? Yes. So much. But I’ll never regret knowing you, loving you. This next stop is my last. There is much more on the journey, but so much of the pieces are in place. If you put your excellent mind to it, you will know where home is.

I need to stop. The traveling is wearing, and I need to get ready for the baby. Laurie and I have decided that the next place will be the last before the end. I hope that you can stand back, see the pattern. Remember.

I never told you, but the moment I remember most, the moment I first fell in love with you was in a Nookie Motel on 285 South. One moment I was cold and afraid, the next I looked in your eyes, and the warmth of your golden brown eyes seemed to burn a path straight through the heart of me. That one moment in that room, I looked at a boy who was poorly fed and groomed, and my eyes were opened that there was so much more to you than what was as on the surface. I felt that you were someone like me. Someone that is often misjudged by outer appearances, but there was so much more you kept hidden inside. I felt you that very moment, and it only increased over time.

I never told you how much I wanted to share that bed with you that night. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I would have disgraced myself and kissed you. Begged you to kiss me. In the dark, before the other came I listened to your breathing, wondered what it would be to touch you.

I want to see you. I need to see you. I do not want to do this alone. How cheated you will be if you aren’t there to see your daughter born? I don’t want you to miss it.

Find me. Make the journey. Find your way home.

Michael went to shower.

All the pieces were in place, or enough that he should know where she was. Seattle. What was in Seattle? The Space Needle.

Pikes Place Market. Coffee? Starbucks, named from Moby Dick.

Moby Dick?

A real classic.

Joyce. His Joyce.

“Oh damn!”

Michael almost tripped getting out of the shower. Fuck Seattle.

Grabbing a pen, he sat down and wrote out a flow chart.

First…a tower. Devil’s Tower.

Second….a school. The mission in San Antonio.

Third…the seashore. Gulf Islands National Seashore.

Fourth…a funeral. The Cemetery in New Orleans..

She was plotting out the journey that Bloom took in James Joyce Ulysses.

The next she would’ve led them all around the market place in Seattle. At least eleven shops. That would’ve driven him insane.

Michael rushed new door still trying to pull on his clothes. Banging on the door, he couldn’t wait. He popped the lock.

“Jesus! Michael, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I know! I know where home is.”

“Yeah, I know. Maria. Now go to sleep.”

“No, listen, she was leading us through the book Ulysses by James Joyce.”

Kyle yawned trying to sort what he was saying. “James Joyce? Why the hell that book? Thank God it wasn’t Lord of the Rings. I’d hate to have to visit Middle Earth.”

“Kyle, she’s in Ithaca.”

“Ithaca? Where is that? Don’t say Middle Earth.”

Michael ran his hands through hair in irritation. “How should I know? How many Ithaca’s are there? Get your shit. We need a computer.”

“Whoa, back down partner! It’s almost 3 a.m., don’t you think it will be hard to get computer time until morning?”

Michael frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying go to fucking sleep! Wake me at eight, and then we’ll find a computer. Dammit, Michael, your brain is pickled. Sleep. Sleep. Your eyes are getting heavy. Give Kyle all your cash. You can hardly stay awake. Kyle is a god. Your lids are too heavy to…”

Michael slammed his door in Kyle’s face.

~~~

Ithaca, New York or Ithaca, Michigan?

“New York!” Kyle searched the map. “It’s right next to Cornell University.”

“Maria wouldn’t go to New York. The Dupes were there. She’d be too afraid being in the same state as them.”

“There are no more Dupes, Michael.”

“Still, she wouldn’t. Ithaca, Michigan has about three thousand people. Small and close to a town called Alma that has a small college. That is where she is going.”

“New York.”

“Michigan.”

They argued all the way through to Chicago. Once there, they were both quiet. Michigan first. If not there, then New York.

I can feel you.

Soon.

Good. I miss you.

Michael watched the mile markers slowly pass. “Go faster!”

“Shut up!”

Michael just made a rude comment and went back to watching the scenery. He wrote his last letter for her last night.

Maria girl,

That was how I first thought of you. Actually it was more, ‘that Maria girl’. You didn’t think I knew your name, did you? I avoided using it as much as possible. In my head, in my own ears your name always felt like a caress. An endearment like ‘honey’, ‘sweetheart’ and others best not mentioned. I tried to avoid saying your name because I thought it gave me away. How could I keep the emotion out of my voice?

I never told you, but I wanted to kiss you that night in the motel on 285 South. The moment you called it a Nookie Motel, that was pretty much the only thought I had in my head. That. Your mouth. You couldn’t stop talking, and I could stop staring at your mouth. I liked how your head was below mine, how I would have to bend down to kiss you, or pick you up. I was trying to decide. My finally decision was definitely the bed. I was lying in the dark when you fell on me, almost took out any possibility of children at the same time. If the light hadn’t come on, I would’ve definitely had you out of your bra.

That was the first time I called you, honey. You kicked me. I knew at that moment you were in love with me.

Are you still reading or did you rip up this letter?

That was the moment, in that motel that I stopped seeing you as a privileged human. Your problems and life were strangely familiar to mine. Your dreams of finding a place better than Roswell were one we shared. For the first time in my life, it wasn’t about aliens versus the human, but rather the ‘haves’ versus the have nots’. It was the first time in my life that I really felt there was someone like me, and maybe you weren’t alien, but that didn’t seem to really matter.

I never thought of anyone else since.

How much do I love? Too much at times, and not enough at others, but all I am and can feel feels nothing but you.

I know where you are. I should’ve figured it out long ago. Maybe I didn’t want to. Was I even ready? I can honestly say that I haven’t come all the way, Maria. I haven’t learned to forgive myself, but I’ll keep trying. I promise.

Maybe you could help me? Maybe we could help each other?

~~~

Kyle gave up. It was too much trying to calm Michael down. They hit Ithaca Michigan and he began to give directions. Stop here. Ask. No there. Maybe…

It took all of ten moments in the town, and he suddenly went deadly still.

“Turn right.”

“Michael…”

“Just fucking turn right!” Michael concentrated. He could feel her. Close. Very close. Michael gave directions along the way, until they pulled into a driveway back in a cul-de-sac. Wooded. Nice house. Neat. Green plants even in late fall near Thanksgiving. Strange. It was Thanksgiving soon.

His and Maria’s first.

Michael was the first to the door, and Kyle was barely to keep up with him. A woman opened the door. Young. Pretty. Long blond hair. She stared at Michael, and suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

Laurie. Laurie Dupree.

“Michael! Oh my God! Michael!”

Michael hugged her tight closing his eyes. He never called her. Never wrote. She was there though, there when Maria needed her. He owed her everything. His life.

Pulling away, she wiped a tear from her face and stepped back to let him into the house.

“Maria?” His voice stuck in his throat. Dry. It felt dry.

“She was doing some potting in the day room.” Laurie motioned through the door, and put her hand to her mouth and smiled.

Michael followed her gesture down the hall. It was a light room. Glassed to let the light in and give a great view of the surrounding wooded area. Maria.

She was working on some plants humming to herself. From the back, she looked so small. Tiny. So much more than he remembered.

Maria felt him. Her hand dropped the gardening trowel, and she slowly turned. Michael was shocked at how tiny she was for just over six months pregnant. Her stomach was definitely pregnant, but still as small as her frame.

She dropped her gloves as he ate up the distance between them and picked her up in a full body hug. There should have been words. He was all talked out. He talked non-stop to her in his head for days, since the day he returned to Roswell. There was only here and now. Her mouth on his, his one hers. The movement of his hand in her hair holding her close as he ravaged her mouth. Not enough. He wasn’t close enough.

Maria must have thought the same.

“Come with me.” Her voice. It was his downfall. His mouth was on hers again and she was kissing him passionately. They were barely moving, and she was trying to lead him to another room.

“Come with me.”