CHAPTER 6

"No! We were there! We found him!" screeched Maria hysterically.

Liz clamped a hand over Maria's mouth. "Shhhh! You'll wake up Mr. & Mrs. Evans!"

Pulling Liz's hand away from her face, Maria continued agitatedly--but much more quietly--"I cannot believe this! We found him. We were just about to get to him, and poof!! Here we are back in reality. This really sucks."

Alex put a hand apologetically on her shoulder. "We agreed on an hour. An hour passed, so we woke you up."

"It wasn't enough time," said Isabel. "But you weren't to know that."

"Fine," Maria burst out. "So next time give us longer. I am going back in there and I am coming out with one sorry spike-headed Spaceboy, if it kills me! Or him!"

Max spoke up from his place beside Isabel. "All right, we'll try again. But give us a few minutes, will you? Holding the connection between you and Isabel is harder than I'd thought."

Liz glanced at Maria and noticed what she hadn't seen in all the commotion. "It's evidently hard on you, too, Maria. What happened to your shoe? And your forehead?" Her eyes widened as Maria explained.

"Oh, that. I ran into this invisible wall."

"Invisible wall?"

"Uh-huh."

Isabel confirmed her statement. "There's an invisible, cylindrical barrier in the middle of Michael's dream desert. Maria thinks he's inside it."

"I don't just think he is. I know he is," Maria said stoutly. "Didn't you hear him, right before we were pulled out?"

Isabel shook her head. "What did he say?" asked Max.

Maria chuckled a bit. "He said, and I quote, 'What the hell?' Typical."

Isabel nodded, her eyes shining. "Sounds like Michael. Our Michael."

Maria smiled brilliantly back at her. "So let's go give him a piece of our minds, shall we?"

Isabel placed her fingers lightly on the swelling on Maria's forehead. "Just as soon as I fix this, okay?"

A short while later, Isabel and Maria found themselves back in the desert, where the trail of footprints began. "You know," remarked Maria innocently, "we still didn't bring any bottled water with us."

Isabel glared at her and then burst into laughter. "Tell you what," she said. "Let's take care of Michael, and tomorrow I will buy you an entire case full of bottled water. And a box of alien-shaped bendy straws. How's that?"

Grinning, Maria cried, "You're on. Race you to the wall!" And with that, she took off across the sand.

Isabel easily caught up with her, and they jogged in tandem along the line of footprints, slowing as they neared the circle that marked the otherwise intangible barrier. "What next, oh one-shoe-wonder? More yelling?"

"Uh-huh. Little Mikey is going to come out and play now, whether he likes it or not," Maria said in a determined voice. "I will knock down the entire barrier if I have to. I've already knocked down a stone wall; a little old invisible one is certainly not going to stop me." Isabel looked at her, impressed, then gestured for her to have at it.

"First things first," Maria decided. Crouching down, she began to search the sand for her missing shoe. When she was unable to find it, she shrugged and pulled off its mate, preparing once again to set upon the obstruction before her. "Michael," she called sweetly, gripping the shoe, "Oh, Michael...If you don't want me to bash in your little wall here, you might want to step outside it for a minute."

There was no movement before her. Gritting her teeth, she called once more, "Michael?" then muttered, "Fine. If that's the way you want to play it, Spaceboy." Lifting the shoe, she counted aloud, "One! Two! Thr--"

An oh-so-familiar voice arose out of nowhere. "Maria?"

"Michael!" she squealed. "It's me! And Isabel. Where are you?"

The voice ignored her question, barking "What the hell are you two doing here?"

"We came looking for you, you idiot," said Isabel affectionately.

"How did you--You shouldn't be here. Get the hell out!"

The two girls smiled broadly at each other. This was definitely their Michael, not the automaton who'd been parading through Roswell for the last few weeks. Maria spoke up joyfully. "We just found you, Spaceboy, and we are not leaving until you come out of there and tell us what's wrong with you."

"No. Get out of here."

"No?" the girls said threateningly.

"Look, I...I can't, all right?" the voice said in frustration.

"What do you mean, you can't?" cried Maria, as Isabel put in, "Can't tell us what's wrong, or can't come out?"

The voice came again, crossly. "Can't come out."

Maria began to feel her exasperation build. "Can't or won't?" Receiving no answer, she spit out again, "Can't or won't, Michael?"

"Can't, dammit!"

"Why not?"

The answer was abrupt. "No door."

"Well, it's your dream, Michael," said Isabel. "So dream up a door, and do it fast."

"It's not a dream."

"Not a..."

Silence. Then a hesitant "What do you mean, it's not a dream?" from Isabel. "I dreamwalked you, you're here. It must be a dream."

"You're in my dream, okay? I'm not."

"Well where are you, then?" shouted Isabel.

There was a pause, and then the two girls barely heard a muttered, "Doesn't matter." Another pause, and then the voice rose again, more commandingly. "So would you just get out of here already? Go take your little dreamwalking games and play them someplace else. You're not wanted here."

Speechless for a moment, Maria looked at Isabel, whose forehead was wrinkled with concern. She lifted an eyebrow and motioned with her head towards the barrier. Isabel nodded firmly. Pointedly ignoring Michael's last few comments, Maria said, "He can't get out, you can't use your manipulation powers...I guess we're back to Plan A, an evening of good old-fashioned demolition. Michael," she called, "we're going to try and knock a hole in the wall."

"Did I or did I not just tell you to get out of here?" he snapped. "Besides, I already tried that."

"And now we're going to." With that, Maria began flailing away at the wall with her shoe. Isabel immediately joined in, beating on the barrier with her fists.

After a few minutes of unsuccessful pounding, Maria called out, "You could give us a little help here, Michael! Pick something up and start busting through."

The sarcastic response came quickly. "Pick what up? All I've got in here is this shoe."

Maria came to a standstill. "Shoe?"

"Yeah, a little while ago, this shoe fell out of nowhere and hit me on the head. So?"

Once again, Maria's eyes met Isabel's before she answered, "Michael, that's my shoe."

Isabel began to pace, thinking aloud. "Sand goes through, as if the barrier and what's behind it doesn't exist. People don't go through, but one of your shoes does? I don't get it."

Maria leaned against the wall, once more resting her forehead against it. "This is really weird, Michael. We're in your dream, but it's not a dream. What happened to you? Who put you in there? Who did this to you?"

For a moment, no answer came. Then Michael spoke softly, reluctantly admitting, "I did." Her heart broke.

"Oh, Michael..." Opening her hand, she placed it flat against the smooth surface of the wall. Her eyes welled up. She could almost feel the confusion and hatred and turmoil breaking off of him in waves. She closed her eyes and swallowed convulsively.

The smooth surface beneath her hand began to roughen and grow warmer. Maria opened her eyes only to be transfixed at the sight of a strong brown hand inches away from hers, on the other side of the invisible wall. She jerked back several steps in shock, then tore her eyes away from his hand. Almost reluctantly, she slowly raised her head to meet the brown eyes that gazed hungrily into hers. "Michael," she breathed.

Behind her, Isabel gasped.

The only thought in Maria's mind was to get to him. Now. She rushed precipitously back towards the wall, her sock-clad feet slipping in the sand. Losing her balance, she found herself falling once more towards the barrier that she couldn't see but knew was there. This time, there was no flash of intense white light to pull her away. She flinched, anticipating the hard smack of her body against the unyielding surface; instead, her body plummeted to meet a strong, muscular one, knocking Michael off his feet and landing on top of him.

"Maria! Michael!" Isabel cried from a few paces away. Then, for the second time that night, she woke abruptly in her own room. Sitting up quickly, she looked at her brother, Alex and Liz, and then followed their shocked gazes to the empty spot on the bed next to her...

...and across town, a calm, unemotional Michael Guerin woke and lay staring dully through the dim gloom at the ceiling above him.

CHAPTER 7

"Oh my god," Liz whispered numbly as she stood over the bed in shock. She blindly made her way to Max and threw herself into his arms.

Isabel looked around in confusion at the blank faces around her and asked, "Where is Maria?" Her voice rose shakily. "Where is she? Where is she?"

Alex blinked and found the power to move. Crossing swiftly to her side, he knelt by the bed and took her hands. "I don't know," he said, shaken. "She was there one minute, and the next she just...disappeared...and you and Max came out of it."

"What happened in there?" asked Max, still holding tightly to Liz.

"We went back to the cylinder. He was there, Max, our Michael was there. We couldn't see him, but he was there." The words poured out of her. "He talked--no, he yelled at us and told us to leave, but Maria was determined to get through to him and she started banging on the barrier with her shoe and he had the other one and then we could see him and Maria tripped and fell and then I...I woke up."

"You've got to go back in, Isabel," Liz insisted. "You have to find her."

"I'll go with you this time," offered Alex.

"No! No one can go back in with me. It's not safe."

Alex protested, "If it's not safe, then you shouldn't do it alone, Isabel."

"It's the only way. I won't risk you too. What if what happened to Maria happens to you? No. I have to do this alone."

Alex plunged on. "What about Max?"

"He can't dreamwalk. Neither he nor Michael is very good at it. Besides, if something happens to me, he's the only one with a hope of getting us out."

"She's right, Alex. God! I want to do something, but Isabel is our best chance," Max burst out.

Isabel grasped his hand. "You can do something. You can be here for me. I need to know that you're here. I need to know all three of you are here."

Max nodded, then let go of Liz to pull his sister into a tight hug. "Be careful, all right?"

"I will." Isabel lay down on the bed for the fourth time that night, and picked up the photo of the three aliens. Staring at it, she blinked furiously in an effort to keep the moisture in her eyes from rolling down her cheeks. She had only minimal success and Alex reached over to wipe an errant tear away. She smiled shakily at him, and then gazed fixedly at the photograph. If only Michael would let her in. He just had to let her in.

Maria lifted her head and looked directly into the annoyed eyes of one very ticked off Michael Guerin. "Michael," she breathed again, and flung her arms around his neck. "Thank god."

For a moment, she thought she felt his arms begin to close around her. It had been so long since he'd held her, since she'd felt this safe, this at home. Her expectations were quickly dashed, however, as he stopped the movement he'd barely started and relaxed his arms back onto the floor.

"Are you gonna get off me, or what?" he asked rudely. Scrambling up, she made certain to plant an elbow in his diaphragm, causing him to grunt in pain. He remained sprawled on the ground, staring up at her, his face unreadable. "What the hell are you doing here, Maria?"

"Here? Where exactly is here?" she countered, brushing herself off as she gazed at her surroundings. The two of them were in some sort of round room, with gray metallic floors and walls that stretched up higher than she could see. "What is this place?"

"I told you before, it doesn't matter," he snapped. "Now will you do what I said and get out of here? Finally?"

"No, Michael, I'm not leaving until you tell me what is wrong with you."

His voice rose threateningly as he sat up. "Oh yes, you are. You're leaving. Now."

"You can't make me go if I don't want to, Michael!" she spat at him. Looking furiously around, she added "Besides, where do you want me to go?"

"I don't care! Same place you came from is fine!"

"Little problem there. No door, Einstein."

He pulled himself hurriedly to his feet and stormed over to the wall behind her. Feeling along it, he began to curse under his breath. Finally he gave up and pounded his fist into the hard surface with all his might. "Dammit!" He punched the wall several more times and threw in a few kicks for good measure.

"Stop, Michael," cried Maria as she put her arms around him from behind and held him tightly. "Stop it. You're going to hurt yourself." His frantic movements calmed somewhat, and she leaned her head against his back. "It's okay. It's okay, Michael. Everything is going to be okay."

Moving restlessly on the bed, Isabel finally gave up and opened her eyes. "I can't do it," she said shortly. "He's not asleep any more. God! Why is this happening?"

"We'll fix things, Izzy," her brother said, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding her hands. "I promise. But we need to know exactly what happened in Michael's dream."

"It wasn't a dream," she remembered suddenly. "That's what Michael said. It wasn't a dream. Or at least we were in his dream, but he wasn't."

"He wasn't? Where was he?"

"I don't know, Max. He wouldn't say. It all happened so quickly, and then I was here, and she was just...gone," Isabel shuddered.

Burying his head in his hands, Max vainly tried to make sense out of what had happened. Once again, everything seemed to be spinning out of his control. He had to get it back. For Isabel. For Michael. For all of them.

"Max," said Liz, who had been silent since the failed dreamwalking attempt, "I'm not sure we're equipped to handle this alone. There's too much we don't understand. Maybe you need to go directly to the source." He looked up at her. "Go to Michael. Tell him Maria has disappeared. Make him help us. He will, for Maria. He has to."

"I'll go with you," offered Alex stoutly.

Looking at Alex, Max could see the tension in his face, but his eyes reflected nothing but determination and loyalty...and hope. "All right," he agreed. "We'll go now. Isabel, you and Liz stay here and cover for me in case Mom and Dad wake up. Alex and I will take your cell phone so you can call us if anything...happens. Try to get some rest, okay?"

Isabel gave him a small, worried smile before repeating his earlier words to her. "Be careful, all right?"

"We will, Izzy. We will."

Michael stood motionless for a few brief moments before pulling away from her. Continuing to stare at the wall before him, he tried to hold in the sense of panic that was threatening to overwhelm him. She shouldn't be here. It wasn't safe. He should have been able to stop her, to keep her out of this whole goddamn fucking mess. But no. As usual, he had to go and be a stupid fuckup. He--

"Michael?" Her voice was softer than he'd remembered it, and there was obvious concern in it. But then she was always concerned about him, how he was doing, what he was feeling...She sometimes worried more about him that she did her own self. Sometimes? A lot of the time. It wasn't right. And there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it.

"It's never going to be enough, is it?" he said, half to himself.

"What?"

"It's never going to be enough," he repeated. "No matter what I do, I'm never going to be able to fix things, to make them the way they should be." Again, he almost seemed to be speaking with himself.

Maria hesitated, and then said quietly, "I don't know what's going on with you, but I care, Michael. I'm here if you need to talk about it." She chuckled ruefully and added, "Actually, it looks like I'm here whether you need to talk about it or not. So just take your time, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded, but remained turned away from her.

"So," she ventured, "that was your dream world out there? Lotta sand."

"What were you expecting, giant Tabasco bottles and Playboy bunnies?" She burst into laughter and he spun around, frowning at her. "What?" he said crossly.

Her eyes danced as she answered him coolly. "Oh, nothing. Just a conversation Isabel and I had."

Michael eyed her suspiciously, but decided not to press. It would be better not to know.

He watched her pick up the shoe she'd dropped when she'd body-slammed him into the ground and settle down on the floor to pull it on. Wordlessly, he picked up its mate and bent to hand it to her. She smiled warmly at him and reached for the shoe, and then stopped as she noticed how dirty and torn the sleeve of his long-sleeved T-shirt had become.

Her hands bypassed the shoe he was holding and went straight for his arm. He tensed up and tried to pull away, but she would have none of it. "Hold still! Let me see," she commanded, rising to her knees. Carefully peeling back the ruined cuff of his shirt, she gasped as she saw the angry burns and bruising that covered his forearm. "Michael! What happened to you?" she cried agitatedly.

He shrugged it off. "Tried to use my powers. Backfired."

"Can you heal it?" she asked. He shot her a pointed look and she quickly stifled her next comment. "Well, at least we can clean it up a bit," she finally said. She looked around the room for something to use to clean and bind it, but found nothing there. Nothing except her and Michael and the shoe he was still holding. "I told Isabel we should have brought some bottled water," she grumbled, sitting back on her heels and gently pulling the remains of the sleeve back over his damaged flesh. Taking the shoe he was still clutching from him she dropping it on the floor, then stroked the back of his hand before placing upon it a feather-light kiss. "There. That will help."

He pulled away from her, but not abruptly, and she settled back down to pull on her other shoe. Leaning back against the wall, she watched as he ran his hand through his hair distractedly and then stuffed both hands into his jeans pockets. His eyes moved rapidly around the room as he tried to gaze anywhere she wasn't. Maria chuckled softly and, as his eyes swung back to her, patted the ground next to her. Slowly he moved toward her and sat, making sure to keep several feet between them.

"So, your dream, Michael," she said, determined to draw him back into conversation. "It was...interesting."

"Interesting, huh?"

"Uh huh."

He looked at her, his brow wrinkling. "Why? What'd you see? Wait--how'd you get in, anyway?"

"Isabel brought me. She connected with me and then dreamwalked you. Max somehow strengthened the connection. Michael, I saw flashes."

Michael tensed. She'd seen flashes. She'd gotten flashes from connecting with Isabel. Right. Isabel didn't keep herself shut off from the world. Isabel wasn't so closely guarded it hurt. Isabel could open up to a person without destroying everything. He suddenly realized Maria was still talking.

"...as a little girl, and her and Max at school, and I saw the three of you together. You are so important to her, Michael. You have no idea how important you are. That's why she's been so worried about you the past few weeks. You've been distant all summer, even for you, but when you started being so cold--"

"When I what?" he interrupted, startled.

"You know, when you started avoiding Max and Isabel, not just me. When you started being so...well, so not like you. Like you were in your apartment on Monday. The past few weeks have been really hard on them, Michael."

"The past few..." He stopped and sat there, unmoving, but she could almost see his brain working. His mouth opened, as if to say something, then closed; she watched him curiously. After a few moments, he asked hoarsely, "What day is it, Maria?"

"Friday, October 13. Huh. Friday the thirteenth. Should have seen that one coming."

Practically leaping to his feet, he began to pace back and forth across the small cell-like room. His mouth worked a little more before he was able to continue. "Maria...The last time I was at my apartment was in September. I've been here for almost three weeks."

CHAPTER 8

Alex followed close on Max's heels as they climbed the stairs in Michael's apartment building. They had to find Maria, and fast. And then they had to figure out what was wrong with Michael, not just for Maria's sake, but for Michael's. Alex had actually grown to like the stubborn loner, whose wry sense of humor meshed surprisingly well with his own more playful style. Plus, all appearances aside, Michael really cared for Maria, probably as much as, and maybe even more than, she for him. Alex had never seen her as alive as she had seemed since she'd fallen for Michael. At times she practically glowed with happiness around him. And Michael had become much less prickly around her. Well, around all of them, really. At least until the whole destiny fiasco last May.

He just hoped that Maria's peril would pull the taciturn alien out of whatever mental quagmire he was wallowing in, because, frankly, Alex was at a loss as to what to do next. Computer hacking, fine. Hooking up spy equipment, no problem. But people who vanish right in front of you? Maybe he should have asked for a Junior Magician kit for his eleventh birthday instead of that DOOM video game cartridge...

Reaching the top of the stairs, the pair moved swiftly towards Michael's apartment. Alex nodded his readiness when Max glanced at him, and then watched his friend as he set his shoulders before tapping lightly on the door. Alex found himself clenching his fists with tension as they waited. And waited. Max whispered, "I don't want to be too loud. We have enough to deal with without trouble from Michael's neighbors," but he knocked a little harder anyway. There was still no response. Finally, Alex gestured suggestively towards the door, and Max used his powers to unlock it.

The room was dark, with only enough moonlight streaming through the window for Alex to make out a still form sitting on the worn couch. He gave no sign of having noticed them.

"Michael?" said Max softly.

Slowly Michael's head turned towards them and he seemed to finally take them in. His voice when he spoke was as unemotional as the expression on his still face. "Funny. I don't remember requesting visitors at three in the morning." Turning back, he resumed staring at the faded wallpaper across the room.

A silent conversation passed between Alex and Max, and then the alien stepped forward to take charge of the situation. "We have a problem."

"And why exactly do you think I care?" was the response, maddening because of its evenness.

Max tried to be reasonable. "This affects you, Michael. It affects all of us. Something happened tonight."

"So?"

"If you would just listen for a minute--"

"I don't think so, Max. Now why don't the two of you get out? Feel free to lock the door behind you."

Alex felt his little-used temper begin to boil. "Would you just listen to him? We need to tell you something, so listen up, or--"

"Or?" Michael raised one eyebrow sardonically.

Alex lost it. "Or I will personally pound you until you are nothing but a little pile of teeny tiny alien bits!" he shouted, leaning over Michael and practically spitting in his face. Michael didn't even blink.

"Calm down, Alex," said Max, pulling him away. "You're not helping. Michael, just listen to us. Please. It's important. You have to listen," he continued in desperation as his remote friend made no response.

Michael turned and looked him in the eye. "And then you'll leave?"

"If you still want us to go once you hear us out, we'll go."

"Fine. You have five minutes."

Maria leaned against the wall, idly fingering the butterfly-shaped hair clip she'd put on so many hours ago. Michael hadn't spoken since his terse proclamation about being stuck here for three weeks, instead prowling restlessly around the room. Maria hadn't pressed him, hoping he would soon work through whatever idea was percolating in his brain. Sighing, she rubbed her temples, and then looked up, surprised, as he spoke.

"Tell me what's been going on for the last few weeks."

"Well," she answered, "you've been acting really strangely, even for you. You know how you have a tendency to be Mr. 'Back Off From Anything Even Remotely Intense'?" He had the grace to look discomfited. "Well, once again you've been pulling your famous little running game, but it's more than that this time. You're there and not there at the same time, if you know what I mean. I see you in school, and you ignore me completely--which, by the way, drives me absolutely nuts, buddy. And it's not like you're purposely avoiding me, it's more like I don't even exist."

She could see his jaw clench. "Maria, I..." he began.

"No, it's all right, Michael. That doesn't matter right now. We have more important things to worry about. Things like, oh, I don't know, getting you out of here so you can go save your home planet, and stuff like that." She heard a tremor creep into her voice and smothered it immediately. "Sorry. Anyway, what's important right now is you and Max and Isabel. You need each other now, more than ever, but Isabel says you've been using the gas station as an excuse not to spend any time at all with her and Max. You've totally cut yourself off. She's really worried about you." She paused, and then commented, "You know, I think we already had this conversation. In your apartment, as a matter of fact."

"I've been there. In Roswell. You've seen me at school and stuff." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah."

"It wasn't me."

"Of course it was you. I saw you."

"You can't have seen me 'cause I wasn't there."

"Yes, you were," Maria doggedly insisted.

He resumed his frenetic pacing. "If I was there, then why don't I remember any of it?"

"Gee, I don't know, Michael. Maybe you were sleepwalking. Maybe you're suffering from some sort of alien-based amnesia. But you were definitely there. Believe me, that I do know."

Michael's eyes narrowed. "You know. What's that supposed to mean?"

She flushed uncomfortably. She did not want to get into this. "It doesn't matter. Just take my word for it, okay?" He stared intently at her. "What?" she exclaimed defensively, "You're allowed to be all closed off and have secrets, and I'm not, is that it?"

"That's right," he said firmly. "Now talk."

She gave in with ill-mannered grace. "Okay, but you owe me. Got that?" He nodded reluctantly and she admitted, gazing at the floor, "I can tell when you're around." His eyes narrowed even further as he continued to stare intently at her. "Whenever you're near, I get this...I feel...Look, let's just say I know, okay? I've got 100% Grade A Michael radar. That's why Isabel brought me into your dream in the first place. She couldn't find you in your dream and we thought maybe I could track you down, and I did and it worked and here we are," she finished in a rush of air.

Michael looked totally taken aback as he stood there in shock. Finally, he tried to pull his few fragments of thought together into a coherent sentence, and managed to stutter out, "You can..."

"Yeah."

Once again, he ran his hand distractedly through his disheveled hair. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure, Michael."

"Well, maybe it's an alien thing. What about Max and Isabel? Can you sense them?" he asked, grasping at straws.

"Just you, Michael. Look, it's not like I'm purposely invading your privacy or anything, you know. I can't read your mind. I just know when you're around, that's all."

He nodded hesitantly.

"Makes you uncomfortable, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Well, yeah."

"Why?" He looked panicky at the question and she decided to let him off the hook. "Never mind. Just accept it and move on. I have."

"Okay," he said uncertainly, and once again began to pace across the room, more slowly this time. "I still don't remember any of it, though. I just remember this room."

Maria tried to come up with an explanation, with little success. "I don't get it, either, Michael. Hey, maybe you did sleepwalk," she added with a chuckle.

"Can't sleepwalk if I don't sleep," he muttered.

Her ears pricked up, and she demanded, "You don't sleep? At all?"

"No. Not in here."

"Don't you get tired?"

"Of course I get tired," Michael snapped, irritated. "I just can't sleep, that's all."

"Well, what do you do then?" Looking around, she commented, "You're not exactly flush for entertainment in here."

"I don't do anything."

"You don't do anything?" she repeated with a disbelieving laugh. "Michael Guerin sitting in a room doing nothing. Boy, that's got to be just killing you." A thought struck her. "You don't do anything? You haven't done anything at all for three weeks?"

"I didn't know it was three weeks until you showed up and told me. It's hard to keep track of time in here. One day runs into another until you can't tell when one begins and the other ends. Nothing changes. It's always exactly the same."

"Nothing changes? At all?"

"Well, nothing changed until someone dropped a shoe on my head--" he began pointedly.

"Sorry about that."

He shrugged. "And then you were there."

"Well, at least you've got me to entertain you now," she said brightly. "Things are looking up!"

Looming over her in exasperation, he shouted, "Things are not 'looking up', Maria. It's bad enough that I'm stuck in here, but now I have to deal with you, too?"

She flinched and looked away. Contrite, he dropped to his knees by her side and said, "I didn't mean it, Maria. Not that way. I just...Hell, I don't know what I meant."

She nodded and looked down at her hands. He tentatively reached out and covered them with his. "Look, I'm...sorry," he said quietly. "Sorry for shooting my mouth off, sorry for not being able to talk to you about things, hell, sorry for getting you into this whole mess in the first place."

Maria looked at him, surprised. He had used the word 'sorry'. Four times in one little speech. This was probably a record for him. Wait a minute; maybe this wasn't such a good reaction. It was too unlike him. What was going on in that warped brain of his? She shook her head, feeling a little dizzy for a moment, then shook off his hands and rose to her feet. "Actually, I think that was Liz, not you. Well, Liz and Max. You didn't get shot; you didn't heal Liz; you didn't drag your wacky best friend kicking and screaming into the secret of the century. It's not your fault, Michael."

"It's my fault that you're stuck here," he muttered, his eyes fixed on the ground in front of him.

"Michael, I'm here because I chose to be here. I knew it was risky, but I made the choice. It was my decision."

"Yeah?" he asked, rising, "And exactly why did you make that decision?"

"Because I...Because we were all worried about you!"

"You see? My fault," he stated matter-of-factly.

Maria reached up and, grabbing his chin, turned his face so he was looking her directly in the eye. "For the last time, it is not your fault, Michael! I do what I want to do. You do not control my actions, not any more. And if I want to go on a wild alien-hunting safari, then I will! So shut up with the blame. It...is...not...your...fault! Got it?" In her rage, she stumbled a bit. He caught her and kept her from plummeting to the floor.

"Hey, watch it."

She shook her head in exasperation and said crossly, "I've just been really clumsy tonight. It's nothing."

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing in concern as he took in her suddenly pale face and glassy eyes. "Are you sure? You--"

"Yes, I am sure, Michael. God! You'd think you were my mother or something," she said, pulling away from him.

He smirked and shot back, "Your mother? I don't think so." Suddenly reaching out, he caught her again as she swayed. "Something is wrong, Maria."

"I'm okay...I just feel really tired all of a sudden. Well, it's got to be like four in the morning, so I guess that's no surprise."

"Why don't you try to get some rest? I'll keep an eye out in case anything happens. Not like I'm gonna be able to sleep anyway." He led her back over to the wall and helped her to sit, leaning against it. He hesitated, and then sat next to her. Putting an arm around her, he said softly, "Here. Lean on me."

Smiling, she relaxed into his embrace, feeling strangely at home. Moments like this were few with Michael. Even when they had been together, they'd usually spent most of their time either arguing or making out. This was nice. "Thanks," she said sleepily and then chuckled quietly.

"What?" he asked.

"This has got to be the longest conversation we've ever had."

"Yeah," he answered. His arm tightened around her.

And Michael Guerin sat, watching, as she fell asleep in his arms.

CHAPTER 9

Alex and Max looked at each other for a moment, and then Alex gestured for his friend to start talking. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hold on to his temper if he didn't concentrate on it, and to lose it twice in one night...Besides, he didn't want to have to make good on his threat of physical violence against the infuriatingly calm, yet incredibly strong, alien. For all his anger, he knew who would come out the worst in that battle.

Max swallowed and said, "Look, Michael, you have to know we've been worried about you. We wanted to find out what your problem was, and you haven't been exactly forthcoming, so tonight Isabel dreamwalked you."

There was no response from the alien on the couch.

"Anyway, we hoped that Maria would be able to help sort things out, so Isabel took her into the dream with her."

Still no response.

"And they found you, but we pulled them out of your dream before they could figure out what was going on. So they went in again, and this time, Maria..." his voice trailed off as he searched for a way to say what he had to.

Enough was enough. Tired of waiting for the axe to fall, Alex spoke up. "Maria disappeared. Literally. Vanished. Poof! Gone."

The still figure on the couch became even more motionless, if that was possible.

"So we need your help, Michael," said Max, hoping his friend would snap out of it and be the rash, impulsive, alive Michael he knew. "We've got to find out what happened to her and get her back."

When it came, the voice was barely loud enough to be heard. "I can't help you."

"You have to help!" Alex shouted. "This is Maria! You know, the girl who loves you? The girl you're in love with, for Pete's sake! Get over whatever problem it is you think you're having and give us some help. We cannot do this alone." He actually growled in exasperation before pulling Max over to the corner of the kitchen and whispering urgently, "Look, I don't think talking is going to convince him. Can you use your powers and show him what happened?"

Max shook his head. "To do that--to purposely force an image into his head without permission--it's no better than some of what Pierce did to me."

"Max, I'm begging you. What if it were Liz?" Max tensed and then nodded slowly.

"All right. But be on your toes. I'm not sure how he'll react."

"As long as he reacts somehow, I'll be happy," Alex murmured under his breath before following Max back over to the couch.

"Your five minutes are up, Max. Leave now," commanded the figure still sitting there.

"I'm sorry," said Max, apologizing in advance as he grabbed Michael's arm and attempted to make a connection. Alex watched with bated breath as Max struggled to get into Michael's head. Work, dammit. It has to work. Too much is at stake here.

Suddenly, Michael stiffened. After an interminable-seeming moment, he pulled away from Max, who let out a deep breath. Another long moment passed as Michael stared blankly at his friend. Then his face became alive--actually more animated than Alex had ever seen it--and he yelped, "Oh my god. Oh my god! Why did you show me that?" Almost catapulting himself from the couch, he blurted, "That was like, way too freaky. Oh my god. Oh my god," he kept repeating in a panic, stumbling across the room to the kitchen area. Digging in the pocket of the denim jacket that was tossed on the counter, he pulled out a small vial. Alex and Max watched, flabbergasted, as Michael pulled out the stopper of the tiny bottle of cedar oil and inhaled.

Alex swallowed. That was really not the reaction he had in mind...

Michael sat quietly, idly stroking Maria's hand. In her sleep, she'd snuggled up even closer to him. He was amazed that she could feel so relaxed near to him, after all the times he'd hurt her. Hell, the last had only been an hour or so ago. And yet, here she was, tucked into his arms like she was safe at home. He didn't get it.

Of course, that was only one of a lot of things he didn't get. He wasn't stupid, but somehow he had never seemed able to get to the deep-down answers about the way things worked, about why people were the way they were. Not that he didn't have questions--those he had plenty of. Half the time he was silent, it was because too many thoughts were rushing through his head for him to be able to articulate at once, so instead he would stand and gape like an idiot.

But of all the questions he had about the universe and his place in it, Maria was the biggest puzzle. He understood why he cared about her. Why he needed her. Why she was so precious that he couldn't let anything hurt her anymore, not even him. But he thought he would never, not in a million lifetimes or on a million worlds, understand why she would--how she could possibly--care for him. The fuckup. The alien. But she did. And for that, he would be eternally grateful. Even when he had to walk away from her.

Looking down at the girl asleep in his arms, he planted a soft kiss on the crown of her head. At least they could have this time together. Where she was safe, from him and from the problems caused by the very fact that he was who--and what--he was. He gave a little half smile, thankful that no one was there to see him in all his wussy splendor. He didn't like to show his well-hidden softer side to anyone. Not Max and Isabel. Not even Maria, although she'd somehow bored her way into his heart. Hey, he didn't even like to see it himself. It made him uncomfortable. But no one was there to see him right now, and Maria was asleep, so he allowed himself the all-too-human luxury of sitting for one brief moment at peace with a blond pixie in his arms.

She mumbled slightly in her sleep, and began to move restlessly. Was she having a nightmare? "Shhhh," he whispered softly. "It's okay. You're safe here." He stroked her hair, but she continued her restive movements. Beginning to get a little concerned, he studied her face carefully. It seemed paler than it had earlier, with little color in her cheeks and lips, and her brow was furrowed. Whatever was happening in her dream, it wasn't letting her get any much-needed rest. "Maria," he said a little more loudly, "Wake up. You're having a nightmare." She didn't rouse from her uneasy slumber. "Maria!" he repeated, shaking her gently. Still no response. What the hell was going on?

Isabel picked at the remnants of nail polish on her left thumb. She'd already scraped the polish from the rest of that hand, bit by bit. No matter what it was doing to her manicure. It was all she could do not to scream with impatience. When would Max and Alex get back? Or at least call? She looked over at Liz, who was sitting sideways on the desk chair that Alex had vacated so long ago. Liz's folded arms were draped across the chair's tall back, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on them. She seemed lost in thought, but looked up after a moment and gave Isabel a worried smile.

"It's been too long," complained Isabel. "They should have been back by now."

"It hasn't even been an hour," Liz pointed out, trying to keep calm in the face of the other girl's nervousness.

"I know," Isabel admitted. "I just can't stand this waiting. We should be doing something instead of just sitting here! Something. Anything!"

"Max and Alex will call or get back as soon as they can get through to Michael," said Liz calmly, inwardly hoping that she was right. Isabel settled back down on the floor, where she'd been leaning against her dresser. Neither one had wanted to sit on the bed. It was where they'd last seen Maria. The alien shivered a little, and then moved on to methodically destroying the manicure of her right hand.

She looked up as Liz hissed, "Isabel! Look!" Following Liz's gaze to the bed, Isabel blinked her eyes rapidly in disbelief. No. It wasn't possible. But it was. She could see Maria, lying in the same place she had been during their ill-fated dreamwalk. It was Maria. But she was only faintly there. Isabel could still see the pattern of her comforter right through the girl's form. The image flickered a few times, and then disappeared.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, somehow, Isabel found her voice and asked shakily, "Liz? Did you..."

"Yeah," Liz answered, in a voice just as shaky as Isabel's. "It was Maria. She was almost there for a moment, and then she disappeared. Again."

"Look, I...I could see right through her. Do you think she was a--" Isabel could barely bring herself to say the word. "Ghost?"

"No. I don't believe in ghosts," Liz said firmly, trying to convince herself. "Wherever Maria is, she's not dead. Believe that." Isabel nodded. "Do you think it could have been Tess?" Liz went on, hesitantly. "Making us see things that aren't there?"

"No. We've kept her out of everything that's happened. She doesn't know what's going on."

Liz looked again at the bed. It somehow seemed even emptier than it had a few minutes ago. "Did she look...different to you?" she asked hesitantly.

"Different?" questioned Isabel. "From the little I could see, she looked...well, kind of tired. Worn out."

"I think it's more than that. She looked sick, Isabel."

Looking Liz in the eye, Isabel commanded, "Call them. Now."

Until the phone rang, Alex felt frozen to the floor. This was getting weird. Weird upon weird. He knew Michael hadn't been acting like himself for the last few weeks, but he wasn't diametrically different from the Michael Alex thought he knew. He was just more closed off than ever. Not like now, when he was acting more like...Well, like...Alex didn't want to even think the thought. The ringing of Isabel's cell phone snapped him out of his reverie.

Michael was still standing in the kitchen with his cedar oil, babbling animatedly away, as Alex turned the phone on and said, "Hello?"

"It's Liz," he heard. "You guys need to get back here right now. Things are getting stranger and stranger."

"Tell me about it," he responded. "Okay. We'll be there in fifteen minutes. And we're bringing Michael."

"Michael? You talked to him? He agreed to help?"

Alex eyed the alien, who was waving his arms around as he talked to Max. "Well, he's...he...ummm, yeah. You know, you wouldn't believe it if I told you. We'll be there soon."

Alex sighed as he and Max approached Max's bedroom window, Michael in tow. They'd been able to pull the frantically jabbering alien out of his apartment with no trouble, and had made good time on their way back to the Evanses' house. He had been relieved when Michael had abruptly stopped talking, a set look coming over his face. He was back to being Stony Michael, but he still allowed himself to be towed along in their wake. At least he was quiet. There was no sound in the early morning except the slap of their sneakers and Michael's boots hitting the pavement as they ran swiftly across town.

Putting up a hand in caution, Max used his powers to open the window and then climbed stealthily into his room. Alex looked at Michael and, when the alien made no move toward the window, took him by the shoulders and pushed him over to the open casement. Michael paused for a moment, and then climbed deliberately in, as he'd done a million times before. Alex followed, less gracefully.

In the dark, Max crept to the door and slowly opened it, peering into the dim hallway. No sign of parental life; the coast was clear. He led the others to Isabel's door, opened it and gestured for them to precede him into his sister's room. Startled at their entrance, the two girls jerked around in mid-conversation before Isabel rushed agitatedly towards her brother. From the chair, Liz looked worriedly at Alex. Michael stood, silent, by the doorway.

Shutting the door, Max took Isabel by the shoulders. "What is it, Izzy?" he asked gently, concerned at the look of shock and confusion in her eyes. Liz didn't look much better. "What happened?"

"Maria," Isabel responded. "She came back. She was here, and then she wasn't again. We could see right through her."

"What?" asked Alex sharply.

Liz nodded in confirmation, and added, "She appeared on the bed, but she was transparent. She was only there for a moment, and then she disappeared again, before we had a chance to do anything. She looked sick. There's something very wrong here. Other than invisible friends disappearing and appearing."

Alex didn't know what to say. How could things keep getting more bizarre? He felt as if all six of them had fallen down the rabbit hole, only there were no magic 'Drink Me' potions or Cheshire cats to lead them through this mess. Wordlessly, he looked from Liz to Max, and then over to Michael, who stood motionlessly staring at the floor, not seeming to hear the discussion going on around him. Ah, yes. That Michael was definitely back. For a moment, Alex actually felt relieved, until he suddenly noticed how tightly the alien's fist was clenched, white-knuckled.

Liz, following Alex's gaze, walked slowly to Michael and quietly said his name. She took his hand and gently uncurled his stiffened fingers, and found within them the small item he'd been clutching so tightly. It was a vial of cedar oil. Maria's favorite. Her heart suddenly ached for the taciturn alien, and she gently wrapped his fingers back around the small bottle. "Thank you for coming, Michael," she said, squeezing his hand. "It means a lot. And it will mean a lot to Maria."

He looked up at the sound of that name, and, pulling his hand from hers, cradled the tiny vial in his hands. She stared, disbelieving, as the stony set of his face began to crack. His jaw clenched and his muscles convulsed, and for a moment she could have sworn his eyes actually began to lighten in color. His chin lifted, and he began to whisper, "Oh my god. Oh my god, Lizzy." His face crumpled as he stood there, overwrought. The hair rose on the back of Liz's neck.

Alex flinched. Okay, they were going back to Hysterical Michael. Christ, he needed a scoreboard to keep track. He looked over at Isabel, who was numb with shock, then over to Max, who had a determined look on his face.

"Michael," the dark-haired alien said, stepping towards his distraught friend.

Said friend darted around Liz, placing her squarely in front of him. "Oh, no. No. N..no," he stammered, "You are so not going to do that again." He shivered apprehensively, but managed to hold his ground. Barely. Alex was suddenly reminded of a rat in a cage full of vipers.

"God, Max, what did you do to him?" exclaimed Isabel.

Max flushed, and admitted, "I connected with him and made him see what happened to Maria. He went...crazy, just like that."

"You made him? Max--"

"I know, Iz, but he had to see. We need his help if we're going to figure out how to get Maria back."

Liz looked sympathetically at Max before turning to the upset male behind her. Michael first, then Maria. "Michael, it's okay. I won't let him do it again. You'll be all right," she soothed as he fumbled with the cap of the cedar oil. "Let me help you with that, okay?"

He nodded and stood passively as she opened the oil without removing it from his hand; then he took a shuddering breath of it and began to calm down. She watched in concern as the animation slowly faded from his face. Unemotional once more, he gazed, mildly perplexed, at the cedar oil in his hand, then looked at Liz. She took it from him and replaced the lid, then offered it back to him. He raised one eyebrow at her, but accepted the oil and tucked it securely in his jacket pocket before turning and staring fixedly at the wall across from him.

"What on earth is going on?" asked Isabel, who couldn't tear her eyes away from Michael and his deranged behavior. She swallowed convulsively. "One minute he's totally impassive, and the next he's acting like...Like..."

"Like Maria on speed?" Alex piped up. The others, except Michael, eyed him oddly. "Not that she's ever done...Aromatherapy oils, yes, but..." he stumbled before dropping the lame joke and moving on. "I don't know what's going on. He keeps switching back and forth from ice-cold, emotionless Michael to hysterical, panicky Michael."

"And this all started when--"

"When I forced the vision on him," Max said in remorse.

"Hey, it was my idea," Alex put in stoutly. "Don't blame yourself. Let's just concentrate on what to do next." Isabel nodded.

Liz spoke up. "I think we should ask Michael. Instead of just talking about him." Three pairs of eyes jumped to hers. The fourth remained focused on the wall across the room. "Michael?" she asked. "Do you know what just happened to you?"

"What?" There was no curiosity in his voice.

"You just got really upset. Do you know why?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were kind of freaking out, and sniffing some of Maria's oil calmed you down." He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Michael, I promise you it's true. Believe me. Please believe me. We need your help. Maria is missing, please help us find her."

His voice was low. "What do you want me to do?"

"You've always been the best at seeing visions of things." Did she imagine an involuntary flinch before his face became passive once more? No, she couldn't worry about that now. "Will you see if you can get a vision of Maria? Where she is? Anything that will help us find her?"

Michael looked at her for a moment, and then nodded once, curtly. "Where?"

Isabel made a move to speak but cut off as Liz shook her head. Gazing steadily at Michael, she led him to the bed, saying, "This is where we saw her last, before she...before she went into your dream."

He continued to watch her with dull eyes, as if to avoid looking at the bed; then an expression of resignation came over his face and he turned towards it. The four watchers held their breath as he slowly put out one hand to touch the comforter. For a moment, nothing happened, and then without warning Michael arched backwards, his face contorted in a rictus of pain, before falling heavily to the floor. As Liz began to move towards him, he curled up in a tight ball and wrapped his arms around his head. In a toneless voice, he began to whisper, "get her out of my head get her out of my head get her out of my head..."

In the harsh light of the round room, Michael sat upright as an agonizing pain cut sharply through his skull, making him gasp in surprise. His arm involuntarily tightened around Maria, but the feeling quickly dissipated and he forced himself to relax. Gently laying Maria down, he crawled a few steps away from her. What the hell had that been?

He shook his head dizzily. He'd been sitting, anxiously watching her as she slept uneasily. Although he had kept trying, he hadn't been able to wake her, and so had been forced to sit and watch her suffer. He felt helpless. And now--

The pain attacked again, so intensely that he almost blacked out before it passed. Breathing heavily, he forced himself to his feet and took a few steps, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped. And he felt the walls closing in as it struck for the third time, knocking him off his feet. Maria. He had to get to Maria. Maria...

CHAPTER 10

It took all four of them to pull the shell-shocked alien out of his fetal position next to the bed. Isabel thrust a pillow under his head as Liz reached for the throw at the foot of the bed and spread it gently over him. Max knelt beside him, intent on healing, but Michael reached out and grabbed his arm tightly before he could make a connection. "Max," he panted, barely able to speak. "She's...in there. I saw her. We've got...to get her...out."

"We will, Michael. Just tell us where she is," Max said, gently pushing Michael back into a reclining position. Michael immediately tried to push himself back up.

"She's in...the room. Round room."

"The room from your dream?" Isabel asked sharply.

Michael shook his head and managed to get out, "Not a dream." He forced himself to sit all the way up, swaying a little as he did so.

She exclaimed, "That's right! In the dream you said you weren't in the dream..." Her voice trailed off and she smoothed her fingers over her hair in confusion. "We're back to that again. A round room that's in a dream but not in a dream. If it's not in a dream, then it has to exist somewhere real, right?" she said, trying to reason things out. "So we figure out where and go there and get Maria out."

"Not as easy as it sounds. We still don't have a clue where this room is," Max pointed out.

"It was in Michael's dream. At least access to it was; Maria got in that way."

Alex said, "Well, then, shouldn't he know where it is?" He turned to Michael. "You were there, but you're here now. And Maria is there, instead of here. Hey, maybe you switched places, and she's there alone and you're here with us." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael open his mouth, and then close it without speaking. Alex decided to call him on it. "What, Michael?" he asked.

Michael hesitated, then reluctantly said, "She's not alone."

"You saw that in your vision? Well, who's with her then?"

He paused before saying slowly, "She's with...Michael."

Everyone froze. Max stepped protectively in front of the others and demanded, "Then who are you?"

"I'm...Michael. I think."

"This doesn't make any sense!" Alex interjected. "You say Maria's with Michael in the round room, but that you're Michael? Okay, Michael, how is that possible?"

"I'm Michael. He's Michael. I'm here now. I'm there too."

"How can you be in both places?" Liz burst out.

"I don't know. I just know Maria is...there. With me. I saw it." He took in the skeptical faces around him and pushed himself to his feet, saying stiffly, "So read me. Find out for sure." Alex wasn't sure that was such a good idea. The last time someone had connected with Michael, he'd gone all Maria on them. And not in a good way.

Isabel and Max looked at each other, eyes locked in a silent argument; then Max nodded emphatically and took a step towards Michael. Or maybe-Michael. He said tensely to the others, "Keep back," before reaching out and grabbing the arm of the alien--person? being?--in front of him. Closing his eyes, he carefully began to connect.

Alex held his breath as he stood and watched, poised for action. Not that he had any idea of what to do if something went wrong, but maybe if he moved fast enough he could take out the maybe-Michael if need be. Yeah. That was likely. He let out a sigh of relief as Max relaxed. Turning back towards them, Max said, "It's definitely Michael. But he's different, too--more closed off than I've ever seen him."

Michael looked around at the others and asked, "Satisfied?" When they nodded, he moved over to the door and leaned against it, adding in a businesslike tone, "Well, then, let's get on with it."

Max nodded again, before musing, "Maria is with you. So where are the two of you?"

"I don't know. I saw me there, but I can't tell what's going on."

"If you're there, don't you know?"

He shook his head. "I don't see it all the time; I only saw it in the vision."

"The vision," Liz said suddenly. "You're all ignoring something. Michael," she continued gently, "After you saw the vision of Maria, you kept telling us to get her out of your head. What did you mean?"

He considered for a moment and then replied matter-of-factly, "Just what I said."

"Maria is in your head?"

Isabel said under her breath, "Well, that would explain certain non-Michaelish behavior." Michael heard this, but chose to ignore it.

A bizarre idea popped into Alex's brain. Hey, maybe those extra hours of studying with Liz were finally going to pay off. "It's like in math," he said. "You know, if A=B and B=C, then A=C. Maria is in the round room. Maria is in Michael's head. Therefore the round room is in Michael's head."

"That's faulty logic. It doesn't work," protested Liz.

So much for math. "Well, then, maybe it's that Michael's head is in the round room," he shot back.

"Yes," said Michael suddenly.

"Which? The room in your head or your head in the room?"

"I think...both. It feels right."

Alex began to think rapidly. "Wait, this is actually starting to make sense. What if Michael is in a round room that's inside his head?"

"What?" asked Isabel, not following Alex's convoluted logic.

"Well, he's obviously physically here. But what if he's not all there mentally? No offense," Alex said to the alien in question. "But what if part of you, the part that makes you you, as Maria said, is trapped within your mind?"

"Can that even happen?" wondered Isabel.

"Hey, I don't know. You say you're supposed to be super-advanced-type humans, but that's not to say that you can't have the same old mental hangups as the rest of us. Michael's just got a pesky little case of alien schizophrenia, which is great, because all we need now is an intergalactic shrink and we're in business."

Liz spoke up. "It makes sense, in a bizarre way. But if Michael's in the round room and here, why isn't Maria? Physically, she has to be somewhere."

Michael closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind on what he'd seen in the vision. Then he grimaced and said tautly, "She's not. And it's killing her."

Again, everyone froze. "What?" Liz asked in a whisper.

"Being in there, but not existing in reality--she can't survive it. She'll just fade away and disappear."

Liz clutched Max's shoulder convulsively. Maria was...dying? They had to do something. They had to help her. But how? How? She found herself voicing the thought in a panic. "What can we do? How do we help her?"

Four minds, two human and two alien, raced in a search for an answer--any answer that could possibly help. While they were thus occupied, Michael made a calm, considered decision. Taking a step away from the door, he said resolutely, "In my vision, Maria was asleep. Or unconscious. Isabel is going to dreamwalk Maria. And she's taking me in with her."

"But you're already there. How can you go in again? That would put two of you together in the same place. It's paradoxical," Liz protested.

Alex muttered, "Not to mention frightening."

"I got her into this, and I'll get her out. We're going," Michael said calmly. "Now."

Isabel took a deep breath as she lay down on the bed, trying to clear her mind enough to be able to pull off this dreamwalk. If Maria was really even asleep in the first place. If she didn't exist in reality, would she even be able to dream? All Isabel could do was hope. And take Michael with her. She looked at him as he settled down on the floor beside her. Without discussing it, they'd both avoided Maria's side of the bed. Okay. Time to reach Maria. Reaching over the side, she grabbed Michael's hand and began the connection.

A few moments later, she was in Maria's dream, Michael with her. Surprisingly, it was familiar, a vast expanse of sand under a bright, cloudless sky. "Wait a minute. This isn't Maria's dream, it's yours," she said.

"It can't be mine. I'm not asleep," he reasoned.

"But I recognize it. It's exactly the same. Look," she said, pointing, "there are Maria's footprints." Michael stared at then for a moment in contemplation.

"Maybe she's just having the same dream as I did. So?"

"So, the chances of two people having the exact same dream...no way. It's practically impossible. There's got to be another explanation," she said. An idea struck her. "She's got this...connection to you."

He raised one eyebrow quizzically, so she went on, "She can always feel when you're around. So maybe the connection is making her dream your dream. Or the fact that she's in your head is. I don't know! It doesn't really matter why, does it? What matters is that we find her!"

"All right," he answered. "So I take it we follow the footprints?"

Isabel nodded and began to move across the sand, Michael at her side. After a few paces, she looked back. She still didn't leave any footprints, but Michael...The sand practically flowed away from his feet, leaving deep indentations behind. Isabel shivered.

"What is it?" asked Michael.

This wasn't the time to get into it. She dismissed it, and continued to move along the footprint trail. "Nothing."

They were silent as they marched along across the desert, eventually coming to the circle of prints Maria had left while trying to find a way through the invisible barrier. Isabel broke the silence. "This is it." She led him to the wall and placed her hand against it.

"Michael?" she called loudly.

"You don't have to shout. I'm right next to you."

"Not you, you idiot. The other Michael."

"Oh."

"Michael," she called again. "Are you in there?"

She heard a faint voice. "Isabel?"

The Michael next to her said in a low voice, "That's not me. It doesn't sound a thing like me."

"Yes, it does. It sounds exactly like you," she whispered, before resuming her contact with the Michael inside. "Michael, is Maria in there?"

"Yeah, but something's wrong with her. I can't wake her up," came the frantic voice from inside, louder now. "I don't know what's wrong, and I can't connect with her to find out--I'd probably blow her up."

"It's okay, we'll get her out. We'll get both of you out," Isabel called.

"We? Who's out there with you?" was the quick response. "Max? You have to get in here and see if you can heal her. I can't. My powers keep backfiring on me."

"It's not Max," said Isabel, looking at the Michael next to her. He nodded. "It's you."

"What? What the hell are you talking about, Izzy?"

"Just believe me when I say you are out here." There was silence from inside the barrier.

Michael moved closer to the barrier, next to Isabel. "Maybe I can reach him," he said. Placing both hands on the smooth surface, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the wall. On Maria inside the wall. On himself next to Maria inside the wall. Isabel gasped as a glow of light began to glimmer underneath his hands and quickly spread across the surface. She couldn't see the enclosure, but she could see the bluish-tinged light emanating from it. It covered the wall and gleamed so brightly she had to look away. "What's going on?" she asked the intensely concentrating Michael, who didn't answer but instead remained focused on the wall in front of him. On Maria. On himself.

Michael placed Maria's hand gently back at her side and approached the curved metal wall of his prison. "What? What the hell are you talking about, Izzy?" he called. When her response came, he leaned against the wall in disbelief. He was out there? How could he be in two places at once? But he already had been, according to Maria. He'd been in Roswell making her life miserable, like always, at the same time that he knew he'd been here. Moving his hands up the metal, he wearily rested his forehead against them and tried to understand.

Who'd have thought that his life would get even more screwed up? Well, it was only fair. He'd messed up everyone else's, ruined Maria's, and then got her stuck here. Now she was sick, and he couldn't wake her up, and then, as if one fuckup wasn't enough to have around, now there were two of him? How many more lives could he destroy now? Line up, folks--two assholes, no waiting.

He came out of his abstraction to notice that the metal surface of the wall he was leaning against was shifting, changing beneath his fingers. For the second time that evening, it began to roughen and grow warmer. He looked up and saw the already polished metal begin to shine even more brightly, until he almost had to shield his eyes from the brilliance. Then the light began to fade, and through the now transparent barrier he could see...

Himself.

Himself, dressed in jeans and a pullover shirt, his denim jacket topping it off. Michael stared for a moment at his mirror image before starting at the sound of Isabel's voice.

"Michael," she said in relief, her voice full of hope and anxiety at the same time, "I can see you. Where's Maria?"

He gestured behind him and pleaded, "You've got to get her out of here. She's unconscious and I can't wake her up."

"It's a good thing you can't," Isabel said firmly. "We're dreamwalking her, and if she wakes up, we might lose her forever. Michael, the two of you are trapped inside your mind. You aren't physically there."

"No," he argued, shaking his head in disbelief. "We're here. I can feel the walls, I can feel Maria. This exists. It's a real place."

"No, it's not," claimed his look-alike. "None of it is real, outside of your head. You trapped yourself in there, and now you can't get out." Michael stared at him. Was this who Maria had seen, in Roswell? Was it really him? Did he really seem so...cold? So remote? This Michael didn't just have a stone wall. He was one. But, after all, isn't that what he wanted, what he needed to keep her safe? Maybe this was how it needed to be.

"Michael," Isabel said, "Maria's in there with you, isn't she? Well, when she joined you, she disappeared from reality. She doesn't exist right now outside your head."

"What?" he shouted, panicked. "Of course she exists! She has to. She's...she's Maria." Was everything he had put himself--and her--through all in vain? It was one thing to live without Maria to save her life. But to live without her because she didn't exist...He swallowed, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. No. That wasn't acceptable. He had to get her out, keep her safe.

"How do we get her out?" he shouted through the barrier.

"How did Maria get through?" demanded Isabel. "Or her shoe, for that matter?"

"I don't know. She was just there all of a sudden."

"Try using your powers to knock a hole in the wall," Isabel dictated.

"Don't you think I tried that already?" he shouted, yanking up what remained of his shirtsleeve. "See what happens?" He got bitter satisfaction at the white look on her face as she took in the bruised and seared flesh.

The other Michael, the one across the barrier from him, didn't so much as blink, the cold bastard. He did however, begin to speak. "Try it again. Put your hands on the wall and concentrate on moving the molecules in it to create an opening. I'll do the same from this side. Together we may be able to break through it."

"Are you fucking insane? The last time, I was the only one in here. Do you think I would do something that might backfire and hurt Maria?" If this really was him, how could he be so careless? Oh. Maybe that wasn't such an unfamiliar trait. But to take a chance with Maria...No way.

Isabel called again, exasperated. "It's not like we have a giant can opener out here with us, Michael. God, what do you--" She stopped as a sudden breeze blew out of nowhere, tugging at her clothing and hair before it faded away. "What was that?" she asked the alien beside her.

He looked around cautiously. "I don't know."

The breeze came again, stronger this time, picking up the desert floor and tossing it gently around. With it came a slow darkening of the bright sky, although there were no clouds in sight. Isabel looked around her to see Maria's footprints and the marks in the sand left by Michael's passage begin to disappear as the blowing sand washed over them. "Oh god," she whispered, then shouted through the barrier. "Michael! Check on Maria!"

He rushed to do so, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. She was once again twitching on the floor, her sleep troubled. And then for a moment it seemed as if she would startle herself out of her own sleep. Remembering Isabel's words, he took her hand and began to stroke it, whispering harshly, "Shhh. It's okay, Maria. Don't wake up. It's okay." He touched her cheek, trying not to let his inner panic communicate itself to her unconscious mind.

From the outside, his own voice pulled his attention away from her. "We're running out of time. We need to break through. Now."

Torn, he remained kneeling by Maria's side. How could he risk her getting hurt from his powers? But how could he risk not getting her out, and having her die? Shit. There wasn't really a choice. He reached over and took her face gently between his hands, staring at is as if to commit it to memory. Even though her image was already burned into his mind. Huh, maybe even literally, considering the events of the evening. He stroked her cheek one last time before leaning over and pressing his lips against hers in an uncharacteristically tender kiss. With his eyes closed as if to hold in her image for one last moment, he pushed himself to his feet and away from her, opening them to lock gazes through the clear wall with his mirror image.

"Okay, let's do it. Now." Planting his hands firmly against the strangely rough surface, he closed his eyes in concentration. Okay. Don't go blowing up or anything now, not like last time. Well, maybe brute force wasn't the answer. Concentrating, he tried to picture small bits of clear glass, breaking down into even smaller bits, into tiny grains, specks, molecules of nothing, and mentally commanded them to move. Go there. Out of the way. Goddammit, move! And in his frenzied imagination they actually began to obey him. They shifted away, flowing faster and faster in response to his silent commands. He was actually doing it. He had control over this. He...

...felt a stranger's hands against his.

Jerking his eyelids open, he found himself staring once more into his look-alike's eyes. Into his eyes. They stood, palm against palm on opposite sides of a window-like opening in the invisible wall. Wait--how could he see a window in an invisible wall? Never mind, it wasn't important. What was important was that he knew it was there. A window to Maria's safety. A window to freedom. He gave a tiny quarter-smile, thinking of how many times he'd used this particular means of entry. Yeah, he could deal with windows.

"Hurry!" he heard Isabel shout through the growing sandstorm. He rushed back to Maria's side and carefully lifted her into his arms before carrying her quickly across the small space to the opening where Michael--the other Michael--stood. "Take her!" he commanded, holding her up to the opening in the wall. The other-him nodded and reached through the window for her, not hesitating, even when she began to moan and toss in their arms. Michael's hands tightened on her one last time before he drew them away from her, watching as the other-him clutched her to his chest and backed a few steps away from the wall.

"Now you!" shouted Isabel, rushing over to the opening. He nodded and put his hands on either side of the opening to pull himself through. Time to go.

Maria woke with a sudden jerk and lay still for a moment, breathing heavily. Where was she? Oh yeah, she thought, smiling. She was with Michael. Her Michael. The prickly, stubborn, infuriating, gorgeous, alive Michael. She smiled one more time and snuggled deeper into his arms, only to realize suddenly that she wasn't leaning up against the hard muscles of his chest. The surface against her back was far too soft. And cushiony. Michael was never that yielding.

Opening her eyes, she found herself back where it had all started, hours ago. Lying on the bed in Isabel's room. Liz was hovering over her, tears in her eyes. "You're back, Maria!" her friend whispered, and gave her a blinding smile. Maria looked further around the room, to see Max holding tightly to Liz's shoulder and a grinning Alex standing at the foot of the bed. Turning her head, she found Isabel, a warm smile lighting her face, sitting up on the bed next to her. But where was--?

There he was, on his feet on the other side of Isabel. In a bound Maria was up off the bed and flying towards him. "Michael!" she cried in joy, throwing her arms around his neck and clutching him tightly, her cheek pressed to his chest. "It's you! You made it out of there!" When he made no movement, she faltered, "Michael? You did, didn't you?" and raised her head.

He looked her straight in the eye, and she slowly removed her arms from around him. He finally spoke, very calmly, very coolly. "No. I didn't. Michael is still in there." Leaving her standing there, stricken, he walked out, quietly shutting Isabel's door behind him.