CHAPTER 21

"I'm not sure I like this," Maria heard as she approached the Evanses' family room. "We still don't know enough. It could be dangerous."

"You don't know that, Max," his sister pointed out evenly. "Maria, Alex and I agree it's the right thing to do. Even Michael agreed to it. We're going to do it so why don't you stop coming up with reasons we shouldn't, and help? Maria and I can do this. Trust us."

"It's not that," Max said with a frown. "I do trust you. I just don't like taking foolish risks. I don't want you to get hurt. Any of you."

"We won't," Isabel assured him. "I won't let it happen."

"I can't believe Michael actually agreed to it. He was so adamant about it before," mused Liz. "How on earth did you talk him into it, Alex?"

"Yes, Alex, how did you?" asked Maria from the doorway.

"Oh, let's just say that he fell victim to my powers of persuasion," replied Alex glibly. He could tell by looking at her that this answer wasn't enough. "Seriously, we just talked about the situation, and he decided to go ahead with it." Maria gave him a stern look, and he continued, "That's all you're getting from me. You want more, you'll have to get Michael to tell you."

Maria let out a huff of exasperation. "Like I could get him to do anything he didn't want to. Some of us don't have your 'powers of persuasion'," she mocked.

Isabel turned a considering eye upon her. "So was he asleep?" she asked.

"How did you..." Maria flushed. "Okay, so I checked on him. No. He wasn't."

"Uh-huh."

"But he will be soon, I'm sure of it. He wants our help. Anyway, he promised Alex," Maria said. She didn't really convince anyone.

Alex spoke, his voice soothing. "That he did."

"Then all we need to do is wait," put in Liz.

"We can do that," said Alex cheerfully. "Got a deck of cards?"

Liz crowed as she laid down her three of a kind and swept up the pile of M&Ms with which they'd been wagering. "It's a good thing we're not playing for money," Isabel told her. "Who knew you were such a card shark?"

"I did," said Alex, who'd long since folded. "But it passed the time, didn't it?"

"Sure it did," said Isabel, motioning with a small nod of the head to Maria, who was tensely pacing in the corner. "Maybe we should try the dreamwalk now."

Alex considered the situation. "Well, since he's right here in the house, it'll be easy enough to tell if he's asleep. Does he snore?"

"No," said Max and Maria simultaneously. Maria turned red as four very interested pairs of eyes focused on her. "It was just the one night," she protested. "Before he was emancipated. All we did was sleep."

Max went on smoothly, "But he gets nightmares. He doesn't exactly sleep easy. It shouldn't be too difficult to tell if he's out or not."

"You check on him," suggested Isabel. "You're used to his sleep patterns. The rest of us will head into my room and get ready." The humans and an alien quietly moved into Isabel's bedroom. Maria immediately went to lie stiffly down on the bed, in the same spot from which she'd dreamwalked the last time.

Alex grinned and took his place on Isabel's desk chair. "You're not at all impatient, are you?"

Maria gave him a disgruntled look and settled deeper into the pillow. "I'm just ready, that's all." She sat upright, however, when they heard voices coming from outside Isabel's room. "What now?" she said, getting up and stalking to the doorway. Max was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, talking in a low voice to...Michael? She pushed past Max in a fury.

"You! Why are you not asleep?" she shouted at Michael, who was sitting up on the bed. "It's been hours! The rest of us are tired; why aren't you?"

He refused to look at her. "I've been trying."

"You have not tried! If you had, you would have done it!" She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down onto the bed. He sat back up the moment she let go of him.

"It's not that easy," he complained.

"It never is with you, is it?" she hissed. "So tell me why, Michael. Why isn't it easy? I know you're tired. You look like hell, and I know you've been up at night hanging around my house all week, so why can't you fall asleep? And exactly why were you hanging around, anyway, you stalker?"

From the hall, Alex began, "Maria, if you--"

"You're one to talk, Alex! If it's not Michael nearby, it's you. Do you two think I'm stupid? That I wouldn't notice? I want answers!" she raged, once again pushing Michael into a reclining position. "And I want you to go to sleep, dammit, and I want things to be right!" With that, the tension and pent-up emotion she'd been feeling came to a crest and she burst into angry tears, collapsing onto his chest. Liz began to move towards her, but stopped as Max put a hand up and motioned for the others to leave. Michael, looking completely trapped, raised his head off the pillow to stare helplessly at Max, who shrugged.

"You did it," he said calmly. "You fix it. This is one mess I'm not cleaning up for you, Michael. You can handle this one on your own."

"Do you think that was a good idea?" asked Liz in the safety of Isabel's room.

"We had to do something. Maria was so tense it hurt to look at her. She's got to relax, or Isabel won't be able to pull her into the dreamwalk," Max explained. "If Maria can get through to him, she'll calm down. Or they'll kill each other. Either way, it's got to be better than having them constantly at loggerheads."

Alex let out an amazed whistle. "Very sneaky, Max. I never knew you had it in you."

"Well, someone's got to take charge of these things," Max replied with a slow smile.

Inside Max's room, things were not going too well for Michael. He lay still for a moment, wishing he were someplace, anyplace, else, where he didn't have to hear Maria's sobs. Where for once he hadn't hurt her. Finally he put his arms up and awkwardly patted her back. "Hey," he said. "Don't. It's not worth it."

"It is to me," she managed to get out, her cheek pressed to his chest. He continued to hold her, one hand gingerly making gentle circles on her back, all the while heaping mental curses on himself.

"It shouldn't be," he insisted softly.

Maria raised her head and wiped the back of her hand across her reddened eyes. "Well, it is. You can't arbitrarily change the way I feel about you. It doesn't work that way. If you could, I never would have fallen in love with you in the first place."

"You didn't."

"I think I can be trusted to know my own feelings!" she said angrily, sitting up.

"No, the guy you think you're in love with isn't me. He's someone else." His hands fell back to the bed. "I'm not even a real person. I don't know what I am."

Maria scooted closer, leaning over him. "You are real," she said firmly. "You're part of him, or he's part of you, or something. Whichever way it is doesn't matter. If I love him, then I love you. It's one and the same." She peered into his dark unfathomable eyes, wishing she could make him understand. "You drive me absolutely insane, but it doesn't change things. I love you," she repeated, and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips.

She pulled back and watched the doubt and confusion in his eyes. Feeling very uncomfortable, he broke their gaze and unconsciously dropped his eyes to linger on her lips, which began to twitch in amusement. Her amusement faded into something quite different as his eyes darkened and he reached up a tentative hand to stroke the tearstains from her cheek. His other hand came up to frame the other side of her face, and looking into her eyes he began to slowly pull her down to him...

...only to stop with a muffled curse, her lips scant inches from his.

"Michael?" she questioned.

He took her by the shoulders and set her gently but firmly aside, then rose from the bed and padded over to the window. He stared out at the night, unseeing.

"Tease," she muttered. He didn't appear to hear her.

Maria watched, wide-eyed, as he fought an inner struggle with himself. Finally something seemed to come over him, and he straightened up to his full height. Not knowing who or what had won, she braced herself for whatever would happen.

What did happen was that he turned and strode out of the room. Anger mixed with panic rose in Maria. He wasn't leaving, was he? Then she realized that his worn boots were still on the floor at the foot of Max's bed, and she breathed more easily. She scurried out of the room, following Michael's path.

"It's not working," she heard him say gruffly. "I can't do it." She walked into Isabel's room to see Liz sharing a concerned glance with the others.

"Of course you can," the petite brunette assured him. "You just need the right circumstances. Is the room too dark? Too warm?"

"No," he said ungraciously.

"Have you tried counting sheep? Or spaceships? How about giant man-eating plant puppets?" asked Alex irrepressibly. The alien gave him a disgusted look and didn't deign to answer.

"What about some sort of relaxation technique?" suggested Liz. "Meditation or something." Alex chuckled at the mental image this created, but cut it short at Michael's terse reply.

"It doesn't matter. None of that will work."

"You mean you don't want it to work," Maria accused from the doorway. He turned to look at her.

"No, I don't. But I said I'd do it, and I'm trying."

"This is not trying! This is lying in the dark and sulking, that's what this is!" she shot back.

"Okay, I guess we're going for the 'killing each other' scenario," Alex heard Max say under his breath.

Maria looked wildly about the room before focusing on its owner. "Isabel! Does he have to be asleep for you to dreamwalk him? Does unconscious count? Because right now I would be more than happy to personally knock him into oblivion!"

"Maria," Liz said warningly, but was ignored by the two combatants.

"Go right ahead," challenged Michael in an icy voice. "I'd rather be unconscious than have to deal with this."

"Don't tempt me!" hissed Maria.

"Stop it!"

Five pairs of eyes turned to an infuriated Isabel. "You," she said, pointing at Maria, "over there. Sit. And you," turning to Michael, "stop telling us what won't work and help us figure out what will." Maria abashedly took a seat on the bed and Michael ducked his head and stared at the floor. Alex was impressed.

"Okay," said Isabel into the quiet, "Now let's work together, shall we? Michael." He raised his head. "You're having trouble getting to sleep, even though you're tired. You are tired, right?" A nod. "I thought so. Then we have something to work with. How did you fall asleep last night?"

"Didn't," he muttered.

She gave him an appraising look. That explained a lot. "Well then, the night before." No answer except a shake of the head. "Before that?" She looked around the room and then back at the scowling figure by the door. "Michael, when was the last time you slept?"

"I don't know. A week, a week and a half," he answered in a low voice.

A concerned furrow appeared in Isabel's forehead. "Michael! You can't function without sleep."

"I'm not human. I don't need sleep," he insisted obstinately. Isabel turned to the others in frustration.

"Somebody help me out here!" she said. Alex, who had a pretty fair idea of what Michael had been doing instead of sleeping, kept his mouth shut.

Liz spoke up. "Why haven't you been sleeping? Because you can't?"

He shifted uncomfortably, but answered. "I've got things to do."

"What could be so important that you would go without sleep for so long?" Isabel cried in distress. "For that matter, how are you still on your feet? Why haven't you collapsed? Passed out?"

Michael gave her a disgusted look wordlessly making it quite clear that guys, even human-alien hybrid guys, do not pass out. Isabel rolled her eyes in frustration.

Liz continued the questioning. "What's keeping you so busy? How can we help?"

He looked at her in mild surprise for a moment. "You can't."

"Why don't you let us be the judge of that?" asked Max. "You've got school, and the gas station. Can't cut down on those. Knowing you, I doubt you're spending much time on homework. So what else is there?"

Michael looked around uneasily and clamped his mouth shut. Deciding to try and help him out, Alex said, "There's the whole plant thing. For the show."

"So speed up the building process by using your powers," suggested Isabel.

Michael swallowed. "I can't."

"Yes, you can," she said in support. "You can do a lot more than you think you can."

"No. I can't," he pronounced decidedly.

From her position on the bed, Maria spoke. "Does this have to do with the whole napkin holder thing? It's okay, Michael. Forget what I said then, you can cheat on this one. Wave your hand and make the problem go away. We give you blanket permission."

Michael ran an unsteady hand through his already tousled hair. "What part of 'I can't' do you people not understand?" Putting his right hand out, he closed his eyes in concentration. Not wanting to be fried to a crisp, the five ducked out of the path his hand delineated. They watched as he struggled to use his powers, to do something, anything, even if only to blow up part of Isabel's room. A sweat broke out on his forehead. Nothing. Finally he let his hand drop back to his side and opened his eyes. "Do you get it now? No powers. They're gone. I can't do anything."

There was silence in the room as the others tried to absorb this news. Finally, Liz spoke. "I'm sorry, Michael." He shrugged and tried to look like he didn't care. None of them were fooled.

Alex cleared his throat. "Well, your powers may not be an option, but your friends are. We can help. Granted, some of us aren't very artistic--" Maria snorted. "But we'll do what we can."

Maria piped up. "Tell Mark Blumenthal you need help. He said he'd round some guys up."

Michael stiffened. "I don't need help. I can do it myself."

"Yes, at the expense of sleep, health and sanity!" she shot back. "Oh, I forgot, you only had two of those to begin with. God, Michael, what are you trying to prove?"

Trying to diffuse the situation, Max said, "Okay, you won't ask for help with the plants. But still, school, work and building them can't possibly be taking twenty-four hours a day. What else are you doing?"

Once again, Michael clamped his mouth shut. "He's stalking me, that's what," Maria burst out.

He looked up at the ceiling and refused to respond.

"Go on, admit it!" she said. "You know I can tell when you're around. Which is practically all the time, you...you stalker."

His jaw clenched. "I am not stalking you."

"Oh yeah? Well, what do you call it then?"

"Maria," Alex began.

"Oh no, don't you start with me, Alex. You're just as bad. If E.T. here isn't around, you are. And I want to know why. Right now."

Alex looked at Michael, a question in his eyes. Michael, stony-faced, did not assent. Alex sighed. "I'd explain it to you if I could, Maria. I would. But I made a promise not to, and I can't break it."

"That's just great. Like we can't guess who made you promise." Maria crossed over and stood directly in front of Michael. She looked up at him defiantly. "And I suppose you're too busy building your relatives to explain?"

His hands clenched and he said through gritted teeth, "Be very grateful I can't use my powers any more."

Isabel, who had watched the argument escalate, said suddenly, "But you can. Or at least you did, when we went into Maria's dream. You and the other Michael used your powers to break a hole in the invisible wall."

"Well, I can't do it now," he said bitterly.

Maria caught her breath. "Of course you can't. And the other Michael--when he tried to use his powers, they backfired on him, and he got hurt. It took the two of you together to make them work. You need each other."

"Max, do you think--?" Michael asked hesitantly.

"Maybe. It makes sense, anyway," he answered.

"So there's yet another reason to dreamwalk you and help you pull yourself together!" cried Maria triumphantly. "You want your powers back, don't you? You'll need them to fight off the evil aliens and all that. Well, suck it up, Michael Guerin, and go to sleep already."

She turned to the people around her and began issuing orders. "Isabel, go heat some milk. We'll give my mom's remedy a try. Max, go turn the TV off; we need quiet. Liz, fluff up his pillow. I want it nice and plump. Alex, you're the musician, start thinking up lullabies." Nobody moved. "Let's get hopping, people! We're on a mission. Operation 'Get Michael Back Now' is underway."

Michael looked down at her, a disgruntled look on his face. "And just what are you going to do?"

She smiled saucily back up at him. "Why, tuck you back in, of course."

He groaned. "Max? Be a buddy and clock me one, will you? Unconsciousness is sounding better all the time."

CHAPTER 22

Surprisingly, the group began to follow Maria's commands. Well, except for Michael. Reaching out an arm, he snagged Max, who was on his way to the family room to turn off the TV.

"Wait a minute," he said in a low tone, "I need to talk to you."

Maria eyed him suspiciously, then tossed her head and said, "Fine. You two boys talk. I'll just go remind Isabel to put plenty of Tabasco in the warm milk." With a flounce, she left Isabel's room to the two aliens.

"What is it, Michael?" Max asked.

"Two things," Michael said, his face impassive though his voice was strained. "You gotta promise me you'll keep an eye on Maria when I'm out. Alex can help, but he won't be much use when they're dreamwalking."

Max looked at him speculatively. "Maria wasn't kidding about you stalking her, was she? What's going on?"

"I don't have time for explanations. She'll be back in a minute. Get her through this safely and we'll talk."

Studying the carefully controlled face in front of him, Max was troubled to observe a hint of desperation in the dark eyes. Michael, who had always shied away from asking help from anyone, was asking for his. He couldn't refuse. "I'll watch out for her. But when this is over we are due for a serious talk." Michael ducked his head once in acquiescence. Max went on, "What was the other thing?"

Michael swallowed. "I'm not sure I can do this, and I have to. Do you...do you think you could use your powers to put me under?"

"I don't know," Max answered. "I've never tried anything like that before. But if I can make the right kind of connection, who knows? It just might work."

"It better work," said Michael gloomily, "because otherwise you really are gonna have to deck me. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Max hid his chuckle with a fake cough and looked away, pretending he had to consider Michael's request. When he had regained his composure, he looked back and said calmly, "I can try."

"Then let's do it," Michael said, moving decisively out the door and down the hall to Max's room. Liz was inside, performing her Maria-assigned duty and plumping Max's pillow to its fullest extent. She moved back in surprise as Michael unceremoniously grabbed the pillow from her hands and tossed it on the bed, throwing himself down after it with a plop. "Do it," he said.

Max looked at Liz, who was standing curiously by the dresser. "Liz, could you give us a minute?" he began.

Michael interrupted impatiently. "She doesn't bother me. Let's get on with it."

"What are you going to do, Max?" asked Liz in concern.

"Put him to sleep," he answered. "If I can. I've never tried it before."

"Is it safe?" she countered.

From the bed, Michael spoke up. "It's a lot safer than whatever Maria's got in mind. So hurry it up, before she gets back."

Max stepped closer to the bed and bent to place his hand on Michael's forehead. Closing his eyes, he focused on the being in front of him. It was Michael and it wasn't; Max could sense that some part of him wasn't there. For a moment he deeply missed his rash, unpredictable friend; then he pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on the matter at hand.

Through the connection, he could feel Michael's bone-weariness and the determination with which his body fought it off, and was astounded at what Michael was purposely putting himself through. He didn't understand why he had deprived himself of necessary sleep, but he knew the reason had to be extremely important to the intractable alien. Sensing that Michael was almost to the last reserves of his strength, Max became even more determined to give him some much-needed rest. Even if the dreamwalk didn't work, at least he would get a respite from whatever was driving him. Concentrating, Max tried to send a sense of peace and well-being through the connection, to convince Michael that it was okay to let go for the time being. To relax. To rest peacefully, just for a little while...

A sound from the doorway behind him pulled him out of his trance, and he looked down to see Michael lying still and breathing deeply. Success. Liz smiled warmly at him before turning to the trio who stood watching from the doorway. Signaling them to be quiet, Max motioned for them to precede him into Isabel's room.

Maria held back a few steps, waiting until they'd stepped inside, then moved soundlessly into Max's room. She smiled as she took in Michael's sleeping form. His face looked unfamiliar for a moment before she realized that in repose he had lost the icy look he'd been wearing for weeks. Picking up the discarded quilt, she once more covered him with it. "Told you I'd tuck you back in," she whispered. He didn't so much as move.

Heading into Isabel's room, she held her head high, unashamed of her lapse into sentimentality. Isabel smiled, but didn't comment. Max, however, had a worried look on his face.

"What?" she said.

"He asked me if I'd put him under," Max said, uncertain of her response. "He wasn't really ready for the DeLuca method."

"So?" She looked at him for a moment, puzzled, then realized. "God, Max," she said with a ladylike snort. "I'm not mad at you or anything. I don't care how he fell asleep. I'm just glad he did." She looked around at the four friends surrounding her and unknowingly echoed Michael's words. "Let's get on with it."

Moving around the bed, Isabel patted the spot next to her. "Come on, Maria. All aboard the Dreamwalker Express, destination Michael's dream desert and points west, no stops."

Maria grinned and joined her. With Max in position by Isabel's side, they were ready. Isabel had taken Maria's hand and was beginning to focus on Michael's picture when Maria sat bolt upright. "What is it?" Isabel asked sharply.

"Nothing," the other girl said. "Well nothing much, anyway. It's just..." Her voice trailed off and she looked at her best friend. "Liz?" she asked. "Would you mind...sitting with him?" She ignored Liz's understanding look and tried to justify the request. "It's been a hard day, and we're all in this together, and I...I just don't want him to be alone," she admitted softly.

"He won't be," Liz answered. With a sincere "Good luck," she left the room.

"Okay, now I'm ready." Maria lay back down, and the dreamwalking process began. A few moments, some confusing flashes and an intensely brilliant white light later, she opened her eyes to find herself standing with Isabel in a familiar-looking desert.

Looking up at the cloudless sky, Isabel spoke in caution. "We have to get this right. If it doesn't work, there's no way Michael will let us try it again."

"I know," Maria answered. "But it shouldn't be so hard this time. I mean, we've already been here, so we know what to expect. And there's still a hole in the wall, so all we have to do is reach in and pull Michael out. Then when he wakes up, he should be himself again, right?"

Isabel nodded hopefully. "So let's find him. Which direction?"

Maria slowly turned in a circle, trying to get a feel for Michael's location. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "What happened to my footprints, anyway?"

"It got a little breezy the last time I was in here," Isabel answered. "They must have been covered over with sand."

"Great," Maria complained. "Well, this way is as good as any." With that she headed across the sand, her hands outstretched. She wasn't going to run headfirst into anything this time, that was for sure.

Together, the girls walked for what seemed like hours, exchanging the occasional comment or complaint. After a while, Maria stopped and turned to look at the trail of footprints in the sand behind her. "We're not getting anywhere," she complained. "Did it take this long last time?"

"I don't think so. Maybe we're going in the wrong direction." Isabel pushed a few strands of hair off her hot face.

"I can feel him in every direction, so how can there be a wrong one?"

"Don't ask me. I'm just the transport on this little jaunt. You're the navigator."

Maria grumbled, "Where's Rand McNally when you need them? I'm working without a map here." She took another look around and continued, "Well, let's keep going. We're not going to accomplish anything standing still."

Alex perched on Isabel's desk chair, watching Isabel and Maria as they lay unmoving, with Max kneeling nearby, maintaining the connection between them. At least they were doing something about the situation. All he could do was sit. And watch. And wait. And barring something going wrong, that's all he would be doing. He fervently hoped Liz wasn't feeling as useless as he was right now.

In the next room, Liz wasn't feeling at all useless. She was too busy feeling worried. Thoughts of the ongoing dreamwalk had filled her mind and kept her distracted for a while, but then a restless movement from Michael caught her attention. Was he awake? Was it over? She moved closer. His hands were moving fitfully across the fabric of the quilt, and his brows were drawn together in a grimace, but he was still asleep.

Kneeling by the side of the bed, Liz watched him uneasily. Max had said Michael was prone to nightmares. Somehow she was certain that she didn't want to know what he was dreaming about, that it would be darker and more disturbing than she could handle. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill, and remained by the side of the bed, afraid of trying to soothe him for fear of waking him. The others were taking action and all she could do was sit and watch, powerless to help.

"How long have we been in here?" asked Maria, kicking at the sand in frustration.

"A few hours, maybe," replied the taller girl. "It's hard to tell."

"It isn't working!"

"Give it some time. Alex won't pull us out unless something looks like it's going wrong. Be patient."

"How can I be patient?" Maria cried out. "I'm no good at it. You want patience, talk to Liz. Wackiness is more my strong suit. Well, that and putting up with pigheaded, contrary aliens who would drive a sane person crazy! Arrgh! This is hopeless!"

"Maria, don't give up now. We can--"

"Give up?" Maria said, aghast. "I have absolutely no intention of giving up here, Isabel. Geesh, there was no reason to spoil a perfectly good rant."

Isabel smiled. "All right. Rant on."

"Well, now I'm not in the mood," Maria said sheepishly. They walked on for a few more steps, and she asked, "So how does this whole dreamwalking thing work, anyway? I mean, if one part of Michael is asleep and we're in his dream, can he see us?" Stopping in her tracks, she looked up at the empty sky and shouted, "Okay, Michael. You agreed to this dreamwalk. So help us out here already! It's your dream--give us a sign or something."

Isabel snickered. "What are you waiting for, a burning bush? He's Michael, not God."

"Oh, believe me, I am not confusing the two." Maria riposted. "I just think that since it's his problem we're working on, he could give us a little help!" Her voice rising shrilly, she called, "Got that, Michael Guerin? Get off your lazy dreaming butt and do something!"

There was no response. But then again, Maria wasn't really expecting one, so she wasn't surprised. With a sigh, she started trekking across the sand once more.

Behind her, Isabel could hear her muttering under her breath, but couldn't make out any of the words, for which she was grateful. She looked around for something else to focus on, and found it. Putting a hand out, she latched onto Maria's sleeve.

"What?"

"Did you just ask for something to happen?" Maria nodded. "Well, look."

Following her pointing finger, Maria took one look and felt her heart take up residence in her throat. "Oops."

CHAPTER 23

"Oops?" blurted Isabel. "That's all you can say, Oops?"

"This was not what I meant when I asked Michael to do something," Maria shot back. "Do you think he's the one doing it?"

"I don't know."

Maria turned her face up to the sky and shouted. "Michael! If this is your idea of helping, you are seriously warped! You can quit already!" Isabel remained staring into the distance. Maria peered in the same direction. "Is it stopping?" she asked hopefully.

Shaking her head, Isabel responded, "I don't think so."

"Of all the times for Michael to listen to me!" fumed Maria. "No, he has to wait until we're in the middle of his freaky little dream to do what I ask."

"If it is him, he might not even be aware of it," Isabel pointed out. "You can't really control what happens when you dream."

"Now's a great time to tell me that!" Maria looked once more into the distance. What had been flat desert and empty sky was no longer. Instead, a rapidly building breeze from out of nowhere tossed the desert floor nonchalantly into the sky. It slammed the sand violently down into a mountainous dune before picking it up and forcing it once more into the air. It was hard to tell through the blowing sand where the desert floor ended and the sky began. What was even worse, it was moving ominously in their direction.

"What do we do?" asked Maria. "It's one thing to be stuck inside Michael's brain, but it's another to be buried under a ton of sand." A horrible thought struck her. "You know how they say that if you die while you're dreaming, you die for real? Well, what if you die in someone else's dream?"

"I don't know. You've already been hurt in here once; we can't take the chance that something worse could happen." Isabel studied the oncoming wall of sand. "I'll have to try and pull us out of the dream," she decided.

Maria grabbed her arm. "You can't! You said it yourself, Michael will never let us dreamwalk him again. We can't leave until we find him."

"I don't think much of our chances of surviving that," said Isabel bluntly, gesturing toward the approaching sandstorm. "We don't have another choice."

"Sure we do. We have to. Can't you..." Maria's mind raced, trying to devise a solution. "Can't you manipulate the sand around us into some kind of shelter?"

"This is Michael's dream. I can't affect anything in it, remember? You're the one leaving the footprints."

"Yeah, well, about the only thing I can do is dig," said a very tense Maria. "And I don't think a little hole in the sand is going to protect us from an entire desert full!"

Isabel looked back towards the storm, which was moving inexorably closer to where the two girls stood. "We need to get out of here. Now," she responded brusquely.

Maria planted herself on the ground. Crossing her arms, she refused to budge. "I am not leaving."

Isabel looked at her and let out a hiss of frustration. "Fine. Then there's only one thing we can do. Run!"

They turned their backs to the oncoming wall of sand and took off. The high-pitched shriek of the wind behind them grew louder as they raced across the sand toward...more sand. There was no shelter in sight, nothing to protect them from the ever-approaching storm which loomed malevolently over them. Only more sand--albeit sand that just lay on the ground like it was supposed to--but sand nonetheless. There was nothing to help them.

That is, until Maria, a few steps in the lead despite her shorter legs, ran into something hard and invisible and fell backward into the sand with a grunt. Déja vu. Seeing her, Isabel pulled up short and managed to barely avoid a head-on collision of her own. "I think it's Michael's wall," she cried. "Come on!"

Reaching out, she pulled the smaller girl to her feet and tugged her around to the opposite side of the cylinder. They huddled together against the invisible barrier, watching as the onrush of sand split around it and rushed forward, leaving chaos in its wake. Squeezing her eyes tightly closed, Maria held on to the wall with all her might. The sound of the wind-tossed sand overwhelmed her, filling her ears with its vicious roar. And then, for a moment, she thought she heard a voice underneath the rushing volume of the wind. An oddly familiar voice, too muffled to understand.

With a last violent crescendo, the moving sand dune drowned out all other sound and thundered past. Even though they couldn't see it, Michael's cylindrical prison had protected then from the bulk of the windblown sand. Maria was left, coughing miserably, as the last few grains settled back down on the now quiescent desert floor. She turned to see a sand-coated Isabel. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," Isabel grimaced. "I'm just...dirty." With a wave of her hand, she caused the sand sticking to her clothes, skin and hair to dissipate as if it were never there. Maria, covered with remnants of the desert floor, watched her intently and attempted to wipe off her face with an equally encrusted hand.

"I thought you couldn't do that kind of thing in here," she said, spitting out a mouthful of sand.

"I can't affect the dream. But I'm not really a part of the dream; I'm just observing it," explained Isabel. "I can affect myself." Reaching out her hand, she continued, "And I should be able to affect you." A small burst of energy and Maria was clean as well.

"Thanks," she said. She looked around at the now calm desert. "That was really...frightening."

"Uh-huh."

A wrinkle appeared between Maria's brows. "Did you...did you hear anything, Isabel?"

"Just the storm. It was really noisy. Why?"

"It's nothing, I guess. I just thought I heard something else."

"What?"

Maria stared down at her hands. "A voice."

"Whose voice? Michael's? It's his dream."

"It wasn't Michael, that much I do know. I don't know who...but it sounded familiar," she said thoughtfully.

"Max? Liz?"

Maria shook her head. "I don't know. I couldn't make out what it was saying. If I even did hear something...Maybe I imagined it."

Isabel studied her carefully. "Maybe." She looked at Maria, who was still frowning at her hands. "What?"

"I don't know. It just...it just really bothers me." She shook it off. "Never mind. It's not important, I guess."

Isabel gave her a shrug and a half smile. "We were lucky this time. We can't afford to take any more chances."

Maria turned to face her, a pleased expression on her face. "We don't have to. We found it, remember?" Gingerly rubbing her forehead, she tilted her head up and motioned with her chin at the space above them. "If I'm not mistaken, there should be a Czechoslovakian-made opening in the barrier, shouldn't there?"

"There should be." The two girls stood and looked for the opening. Although they couldn't see the structure in front of them, a squarish block of darkness was visible, as if hanging in midair. Crowding together in front of it, they peered in. It was very dim inside, too dark to make anything out.

"Michael?" called Maria. "It's me. Me and Isabel. We came to get you."

There was no answer, and no sign of movement inside. Isabel turned to the smaller girl and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"He's got to be in there. I'm going in," Maria said.

Isabel grabbed her arm to halt her. "You can't. The last time you went into that room, you vanished in real life. Disappear again and Alex will think something's wrong--he'll pull us out of the dreamwalk."

"And Michael will never let us back in," finished Maria softly. She considered for a moment. "Well, what if I just stuck my head in far enough to see? You don't think it would disappear, do you?"

"Do you really want to risk it? I mean, Alex won't be too pleased if just your head disappears, either. Decapitation isn't really a good look for you."

Maria snickered. "You're right, I'm short enough already. But he's not answering, so I guess it's our best plan."

"Tell you what. I'll hold onto you. That way if you have any problems, I can pull you out," Isabel suggested.

Maria nodded. "It's a plan. Here goes." Placing one hand on the barrier, she held the other behind her. Isabel took it. Then, taking a deep breath, Maria leaned forward through the window. It was extremely dark inside, and she squinted to try and make out anything in the dimness.

"Do you see him?" she heard.

She called back, "No. Give me a second, why don't you?" Her eyes slowly began to adjust to the lack of light and she scanned the cylindrical room. It wasn't very big. Where could he have gone? "Michael?" she called again. "Why won't you answer me?"

A cracked voice responded, so low she could barely hear it. "Because you're not real."

"Michael!" she exclaimed. Pulling her hand out of Isabel's and ignoring the other girl's protest, she put both hands on the edge of the window and leaned further forward, looking down. He was there, huddled under the opening with his arms wrapped protectively around his knees and his head bowed. "Michael, I am so real. I'm here."

"You always say that, but you never are," he answered haltingly. "You keep coming back, but you're never here." He gave a wild laugh, which frightened her. "You can't fool me any more."

"What's going on?" Isabel called from outside. Maria motioned behind her for Isabel to hush.

"I'm not fooling you, I promise. I'm really here, and so is Isabel. We came to get you out."

Again he gave a bark of laughter, totally mirthless. "Nobody ever comes for me."

She could almost feel her heart splitting into pieces. "I came for you, Michael. I will always come for you."

His response was so low she could hardly hear as he repeated to himself, "Nobody ever comes for me." Maria looked down at him, her heart breaking. What had happened to him? He was fine when she'd last seen him, before she'd fallen asleep in his arms. And from what Isabel had said when she described the later events of that evening, he hadn't been any different when he and the other Michael rescued her from death in the round room. But now, he almost seemed...well, broken. As if something within him had snapped, leaving behind a living, breathing shell. She bit her lip. What should she do?

She was temporarily saved from having to make that decision by Isabel, who grabbed her by the back of the shirt and hauled her from the window. "What's going on?" the alien asked again. "Is he in there?"

"Yeah. Couldn't you hear him?"

"No, I couldn't hear anything, or see anything. Is he coming or what?"

Maria swallowed. "I'm not sure he can, not by himself. He...Isabel, there's something really wrong. He doesn't believe I'm really there, and he keeps saying I'm not real."

The taller girl whispered, "What?" in a panicked voice.

"Just hold on a minute. I'm going to try to reach him." Leaning back in through the window, Maria said softly, "Michael? I can prove I'm real, and that I'm here for you. Just reach up and take my hand."

His only movement was a small negative motion of his head. "Please, Michael," she begged. "Just take my hand."

"Leave me alone," he responded desperately. "Go away. You're not really here."

"Yes, I am," she said firmly. "And if you won't believe me, then I will climb in there and prove it to you."

She heard Isabel gasp outside. "You can't, Maria! The last time, you almost died."

"I know that," she hissed back. "Stop interrupting." She turned back to Michael. "I'll come in if you want me to, and I won't leave you. But it's not safe for me in there, Michael, and I can't survive for very long inside. Please, just take my hand first and let me prove I'm here. Please, Michael."

His hands clenched as he struggled inwardly, trying to believe her words. Looking up doubtfully, he seemed almost afraid to see her. "Come on, Michael. You can do this. I know you can," she coaxed, before adding with a tense smile, "Besides, if you don't I don't know what I'll do. Yes I do, I'll...I'll...well, I'll come in there and sing every pop tune I can think of. And the Bee Gees, Michael, I'll sing Bee Gees songs. And not one note of Metallica. So if you value your hearing, you'll get off your butt and take my hand already!"

He stared up at her, not reacting to her threat, until she began to cry silently, the tears welling up and spilling out of her eyes like so many raindrops in a parched desert. With an indrawn breath, he pushed himself to his knees.

"You never cry," he said doubtfully. "You're there and you say things and then you go away, over and over and over again. But you never cry."

"I told you, I'm real," she choked out. "Real girls cry when they're upset."

He cocked his head to one side, a first glint of hope appearing behind his dull eyes as he looked at her. Locking his gaze with hers, he slowly put up one hand, reaching for her with a terrible fear and hope and need and doubt. She reached out as well and wrapped both hands tightly around his. His fingers clutched convulsively on hers, and he didn't tear his eyes away from her.

"Told you I'm real," she said lightly, with a tremulous smile.

"You are," he responded. "I really think you are." He slowly got to his feet, not letting go of her hands, and stood diffidently before her.

"Are you all right. Michael?" she asked in some concern.

"Yeah, I think so. Now," he answered.

"You were acting a little weird, even for you, that's all. You scared me," she said.

"I think I was kind of going out of my mind," he said seriously, then gave her a halfhearted self-deprecating smirk and added, "Not like I was using it anyway."

"Hey!" she cried indignantly, rushing to defend him from himself; then she caught a real hint of life in his eyes and grinned. "Hey, what do you know? You're growing a sense of humor." Ignoring Isabel, who had begun to tug at her back, she went on, "I am really happy to see you again, Michael. I--" An extra firm tug caused her to stop, and she turned her head, calling over her shoulder, "Would you quit already? I'm trying to have a conversation here."

"I thought I heard someone else, but I figured I was imagining it too," Michael said. "Who--?"

"Isabel. How else could I have gotten in here, silly?" she teased.

A look of clarity grew on his face. "What are you doing back here, anyway? We got you out!"

"And now I'm back. Isabel and I came back for you, so hurry up and climb out of there, Spaceboy. Let's go home. Everyone's waiting for you--Max, Liz, Alex...hey, even you are waiting for you."

He abruptly pulled his hands away from hers and took a step backwards, running a hand nervously through his hair. "What?" she complained. When he didn't answer, she set her mouth firmly and said, "Look, I've had a very hard day. You know, the usual customers from hell at work, and then a battle practically to the death to get you to go to sleep, and then on top of everything, your little Tatooine dream world here almost smothered us! That's it. I came for you and I am not leaving without you. So you either get your butt out here, Michael Guerin, or I'm coming in there. Until you are back in Roswell, buddy, consider us joined at the hip." He blinked. "And not in a fun way, either!" she shouted.

"What, are you stupid?" he burst out. "You can't come back in here. You'll die!"

Ahhhh. This was the temperamental, totally emotion-filled alien that she loved. Yesssss. She cheered mentally. Not that she didn't love the other Michael, too, but she'd missed his passion and vehemence. Besides, she liked their little squabbles. What could she say--they challenged each other. She looked up at him defiantly. "Then you'd better come out, huh, Michael?"

He balled up his fists and began to retort, "I--"

"Oh, no. No excuses. Just make a choice, one way or the other. Which is it going to be, Michael, you out here or me in there?"

With a curse, Michael spun around, his back towards her and let out a stream of foul language that impressed her no end. She'd had no idea that his vocabulary was so...extensive. Good thing her mother wasn't there with a cake of her favorite soap, or Michael would be burping bubbles for a week. Maria stood and watched intently as his cursing petered out and his shoulders slumped forward resignedly. Then, turning around with his jaw set stubbornly, he moved toward the window and barked, "Shove over."

With a grin, she called back to Isabel, who up till then had been waiting impatiently behind her. "It's okay, he's coming out!" she cried jubilantly. There was no response from the taller girl, and Maria turned to find her looking up at the sky with a worried expression on her face. "What is it?" she asked. "Another sandstorm?"

Isabel shook her head. "I thought I heard something," she said slowly. "A voice."

Maria tensed. "Like the one I thought I heard before?"

Nodding, Isabel continued to search the sky. "I couldn't hear it well enough to be sure, though. It was...eerie."

With some urgency, Maria turned back to Michael, who had his hands on the invisible windowsill in preparation for climbing out. He too was very still, as if frozen in place. "Mich--"

"Shhhh," he commanded. He swept his eyes across the horizon, the rest of his body perfectly still.

With a frown, Maria concentrated on listening as hard as she could. She heard nothing other than the faint sounds of their breathing. Wait--was that something? A chill ran down her spine. As if from a great distance, a voice whispered, barely loud enough to hear. Somehow she knew it was saying terrible, horrible things, things that she wouldn't be able to bear, even if she were actually able to make out any of the words. With a feeling of impending peril closing in on her, she cried out, "We've got to get out of here! Climb out, Michael. Now!"

It took a moment for him to actually hear her, as if the almost inaudible voice were drowning out every other sound. When he finally did seem to hear her, though, he didn't move, as if planted to the floor inside the round room. Grabbing his hand, she shouted at Isabel. "Help him!" The other girl rushed to the opening and took Michael's right hand, and together they began to haul him out through the window. "Hurry!" Maria sobbed. His feet were just about to clear the barrier when a giant flash of light blotted out everything, and Maria felt herself falling...

CHAPTER 24

Liz fell back with a yelp as Michael surged off the bed in one sudden, unexpected movement and stood, wild-eyed and shivering. Lying on the floor where she'd fallen, she stared up at the tall alien. He was breathing hard and his eyes darted unchecked around the room as if he were unsure of where he was. "Michael?" she squeaked.

At the sound of her voice, he went still, and the turbulence seemed to die down in his eyes. Blinking, he turned to her slowly, no expression on his face. "You're awake," she said, and then mentally kicked herself for her inanity. Of course he was awake. He was standing right there, wasn't he?

"Did it work?" she questioned him. "Did you see them in your dream? What happened?" When he didn't answer, just looking at her mutely, she grabbed him by the arm to pull him from the room. She'd see for herself. Intent on getting next door to Isabel's room, she missed the sudden whitening of his face. By the time they got there, his face was once more devoid of expression.

Bursting into the room, Michael in tow, she gasped out, "What happened?" Alex was kneeling by the side of the bed, holding up a shaking Maria, while Max did the same for Isabel. Both girls looked exhausted. Actually, so did Michael; a few short hours of forced slumber evidently wasn't enough to catch him up, however strongly he denied his need for sleep.

"Michael woke up, and we got pushed out of the dream," said Isabel tautly. "When it happened we were just pulling him out."

"Did it work?" asked Maria. Starting to raise her head, she flinched. "Ow. Got to stop running into things. What is it with the violent headaches, already?" she muttered. Carefully, to avoid jogging her throbbing head any further, she looked up. "Michael," she breathed, putting a hand out towards him. After a moment of hesitation, he took a few steps toward the bed, but then stopped to stand motionlessly, as if his attention was suddenly pulled elsewhere. He paled.

"You all right, man?" said Alex from his position by Maria's side.

Shaking off his reverie, the alien meeting Alex's gaze squarely. He ignored the question the teen had asked, and spoke in a ragged voice. "They dreamwalked. Are we even now?"

Startled, Alex nodded his head, saying, "Yeah."

Michael turned and abruptly pushed past Liz and out the door. Ignoring her pounding head, Maria was up and after him in an instant. She found him sitting on Max's bed, slowly pulling on his boots. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. He didn't look up at her, much less answer. "We need to talk about what happened in there. I mean, did you see what was happening? Did we...did we get you out? Are you back?" Her speech stumbled to a halt. "Why won't you answer me?"

He grudgingly spoke. "Nothing to say."

"Michael, Isabel and I just risked our lives in there to get you out. The least you can do is tell us if it worked or not!"

"No," he said coldly, standing and moving abruptly towards the window. Maria pushed past him to block it.

"Oh no, you're not leaving yet. We need to go back in and get you."

"Maria." Alex's voice came from the open doorway. She willfully ignored him, instead advancing on Michael.

"I mean it," she said. "Go back to sleep." Reaching up, she placed her hands on his shoulders to push him back down onto the bed. "Max put you out once, he'll do it again."

He stood firmly in place, not allowing himself to be moved. "I promised Alex you could dreamwalk. You did. It's over."

"It can't be over," she said, a note of hysteria in her voice. "Don't you see? I promised you I'd always come for you. I can't leave you there, I just can't!" She looked beseechingly up at his shuttered face, and he looked away from her. "Michael, please," she said brokenly, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Please."

Moving toward her, Alex gave Michael a look torn between sympathy and entreaty and added his pleas to Maria's. "Once more, Michael. For Maria and Isabel. What can it hurt?" But he knew it was futile when he saw the alien look away. Alex gently pulled Maria's hands away from Michael and then held her as she turned and collapsed in his arms.

Leaving a distraught Maria to Alex, Michael quietly walked out of Max's room and back into Isabel's. Liz was perched on the bed, talking in low tones with the two aliens.

"Liz," he said gruffly. "Maria...she needs you."

With a startled look, Liz rose and unhesitatingly went to her friend, only pausing to say "Thanks" on her way out of Isabel's room.

Michael, left alone with his two oldest companions, stood silently, a somewhat distracted look on his face. Taking in his friend's weary stance, Max ventured, "Michael, you're exhausted. Let me help you get some more sleep." A sharply drawn breath caused him to hurry on, "Not to do any more dreamwalking, just to let you rest. You need it."

In an empty voice, Michael stated, "I don't need anything."

"Michael." Isabel made an abortive movement to get off the bed and cross to him, but he moved past her to the window and climbed out, leaving them alone.

Isabel called his name once more, but Max put his hand out to keep her from stopping him. "Let him go," he said softly.

"But, Max--" she began.

"He's close to the edge. Push him any more, and he'll snap."

"What do you mean, Max?" asked Liz from the doorway. Behind her, Alex watched, his arm around a shaken Maria.

"He's been pushed to his limit. Couldn't you feel it, Isabel? Maria?"

Neither girl answered, and the trio of humans slowly entered the room and sat. Sinking down on the bed next to Isabel, Maria bit her lip.

"What do we do now, Max?" Liz asked quietly.

Swallowing, he replied, "I don't know."

Then there was silence as the five friends stared numbly at the walls around them.

Unthinking, Michael Guerin trudged across town, the soles of his boots echoing into the silent night as they hit the pavement. He traveled without noticing where he was going, heading for his apartment by instinct alone. His fragmented mind could only focus on one thought.

He'd lied to her.

Well, not lied precisely, but she'd misinterpreted his adamant refusal to talk about what had happened and he hadn't corrected her. He'd just wanted to get out of there. He'd needed to. Something in the back of his brain was setting his teeth on edge, and he'd had to flee.

But not before--purposely or not--fooling them all.

He picked up his pace. The voice he'd heard inside his dream hadn't left when he'd awakened. He could still hear it. It drowned out almost every other sound and tore his focus and attention from his surroundings, from what they were saying, from her. He'd barely been able to act calmly, to keep from curling up in a little ball with his hands over his head in a futile attempt to drown it out.

The sounds of his feet came more rapidly as he broke into a jog and then a full-fledged sprint. But he couldn't outrun this.

Somehow he made it back to his apartment, never really knowing how he'd gotten there. He fumbled with his keys as he unlocked his door. Safely inside, he leaned back against it and slid to the ground. He had dreamed it once before, and it had never really gone away, but he'd been able to ignore it, to put it aside like it hadn't existed. But now he was back, and so was it, with a vengeance. He couldn't hide from it.

Killer.

CHAPTER 25

Sighing, Maria remained in her seat after the bell rang to signal the end of class. She was in no hurry to go to History today. It had been hard enough facing Michael in English this morning, and he hadn't even looked at her. She didn't know if she could handle his closed-off, emotionless demeanor again, not after everything they'd been through on Saturday night.

After he'd left the Evanses' house, the five of them had sat, silent, each enmeshed in thought. Finally, Isabel had shepherded them all to bed, but Maria had slept fitfully for the short time that she was actually able to rest. It was only due to her physical and emotional exhaustion that she was able to get as much sleep as she did. Sunday night hadn't been much better, but at least she had been in the familiar comfort of her own room.

Although Liz had tried to cheer her during their mutual shift at the Crashdown on Sunday afternoon, she hadn't really known what to say. Nor had Maria, who got through the day pretty much on auto-pilot, smiling mechanically at the customers and trying to avoid thinking about anything, much less feeling.

She'd wakened on Monday morning with the same listless feeling and was immediately sent back to bed by a concerned Amy. A day of lying in bed staring at the ceiling hadn't helped much, and her mom had looked troubled as she'd given her daughter a tight hug before Maria left for school this morning. Maria held on to that hug as best she could during the day, but its simple comfort had long since faded.

As students began to enter the room for the next class, Maria reluctantly gathered her possessions. In the hall, she briefly considered bailing on History, but knew that the ramifications of cutting class could have a bad effect not only on her grade but also on what little free time she had. Her mother would certainly not be too happy to deal with a truant daughter, and Maria didn't feel up to the parental 'discussion' that would ensue if Amy found out.

She made it to class just before the bell rang, and Mrs. Lyons watched her as she made her morose way to her desk and sat down. Carefully not looking in Michael's direction, she opened her notebook and stared numbly down at it.

Mrs. Lyons broke through Maria's distraction a few minutes later. "Maria?" she heard, and looked up to realize that all the eyes in the room--save one pair--were plastered on her. A titter arose from behind her, and she frantically tried to recall what the teacher had just said.

"Perhaps if you paid attention, you would be able to add something to our discussion," Mrs. Lyons said sternly. Maria colored and nodded. Trying to focus on the remainder of the lecture, she didn't notice Michael giving her a very speculative--although somewhat distracted--look. The rest of the class period passed much more quickly, and Maria was able to at least give the pretense that she was following Mrs. Lyons's every word.

Heading to her locker after class, she found Alex waiting for her. "Hi, Alex," she said in a wan tone, giving him an emotional smile. "What's up?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Alex returned steadily. "You weren't in school yesterday, and you wouldn't answer the phone. Your mom told Liz you weren't feeling well." He looked at her in concern. "You holding up okay?"

She shook her head numbly. "Not really. But I don't have much choice, do I? I have to get on with my life, just like everything was fine. Or normal. Or something."

Alex studied her for a moment, then asked, "So in this so-called normal life of yours, are you working tonight?"

"Yeah. I get to deal with all the worn-out trick-or-treaters," she said without enthusiasm. "Just another incredibly stimulating evening in Roswell, New Mexico. Happy, happy Halloween."

"Actually, I was thinking about heading over to the Crashdown this evening myself," Alex commented. "My mom's decided to go all out for Halloween this year, and I don't think I can deal with seeing her hand out candy dressed as a French maid."

The corners of Maria's mouth lifted fractionally. "You're kidding."

"Nope."

"That's actually kind of frightening."

Alex nodded ruefully before continuing, "So I'll see you tonight, okay?"

Maria paused, then said carefully, "Are you sure avoiding trick-or-treaters is your only reason for hanging at the Crashdown?"

"I don't know what you mean," he said, an innocent look on his face. She wasn't buying it.

Eyeing him with suspicion, she said, "So you're back on stalking duty? I thought that the forty-eight hours with no baby-sitter and no Michael lurking in the vicinity was too good to be true."

He pounced on her offhand comment. "What do you mean, no Michael?"

"I mean that the past two days were the first in weeks that I haven't constantly either seen you or felt him around. I figured you were backing off." He looked troubled by this. "Why? Wasn't that the plan?"

He swallowed. "I don't think so."

"Look, Alex, I know you promised not to tell me what you two are up to, and Michael's certainly not talking. But I'm not going to blindly sit back and act like I don't know you guys are there, either. You're a little too obvious. Well," she mused, "Michael wouldn't be, if I couldn't sense him. He's actually pretty good at lurking." She looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "A really useful talent there. Anyway, if it's so important that I have a baby-sitter around, why the sudden change of heart? I was home all day yesterday, while you were both in school, and I didn't--"

He interrupted her. "We weren't both in school. I mean, I was, but Michael wasn't. I figured he was lurking over at your place."

"I don't think so. I would've felt it," she answered slowly. "No Michael vibe."

"That's...odd," he said. Well, he wasn't going to give up the watch, especially if Michael was slacking off. After all, it was the boneheaded alien's idea in the first place. It looked like he needed to have a chat with the elusive Mr. Guerin. "I'll go to the Crashdown with you now," he decided. "You driving?"

She shook her head. "Mom needed the car again."

"Okay, we'll walk. Let me run by my locker and we'll head out," he suggested, and then paused as he caught sight of a tall blonde moving down the hallway. "On second thought, wait right here," he ordered, and moved to intercept Isabel before she got too near. Maria bit down her protest at his abrupt command, and watched curiously as Alex spoke with Isabel. They were just far enough away that she couldn't overhear their conversation.

"Isabel. What are you doing this afternoon?" demanded Alex unceremoniously.

"Hello to you too, Alex."

"Sorry," he threw back, then repeated, "What are you doing this afternoon?"

"I was going to the library to do some research for my term paper, then home to help Mom get ready for the trick-or-treaters. She's really into it this year."

"She's not by any chance dressing up like a French maid, is she?" he asked, momentarily distracted.

"What?"

"Never mind. Anyway, I need you to do me a favor."

She didn't hesitate. "Of course. What?"

"I need you to go with Maria to the Crashdown and stay with her until I get there."

"Okay," she responded immediately, but added, "Why? What's going on?"

"I can't tell you that," he admitted.

"Is this back to your promise to Michael?" she demanded. At his hesitant shrug, she threw up her hands and burst out, "I swear that if he were himself, I would kill him." Alex didn't respond and she went on, "I know, I know. Fine, I'll take Maria and stay with her, and I won't ask any more questions. For now, at least. But we all need to talk, and soon."

Alex nodded. "You're right, we do." They began to move towards Maria, who was leaning against her locker, waiting impatiently. As a sudden afterthought, Alex added, "And Isabel? Keep your eyes peeled, okay?"

"Why? What am I watching for?" the tall blonde asked curiously.

"I don't really know," he admitted. "Just anything...unusual."

She studied him for a moment, but seemed to find an answer of some sort in his face. "Okay," she answered with a nod.

"Thanks," he said gratefully.

Smiling, she quoted his response from the night of the first dreamwalk into Michael-land. "Any time, Alex. Any time."

Fidgeting nervously, Maria watched them approach. As they neared, she looked up at one and then the other. Alex smiled gently down at her.

"You're in luck," he said with a grin. "Isabel's got the Jeep, and she'll drive you to work."

Maria looked at him, suspicion on her face. "And I suppose she's the stalker of the day? The dynamic duo is now a trio?" she said tiredly.

"I'm just in the mood for something fattening. With lots of Tabasco sauce," put in Isabel cheerily.

"You can't fool me," Maria shot back. "You've been roped into baby-sitting detail for some reason that only Michael knows." With a sigh, she pushed herself away from her locker. "Okay. Let's go."

Alex watched them leave and then set off purposefully in the other direction. Now to find Michael, and determine just why he'd seemingly given up on his own plan to protect Maria.

Four and a half hours later, Alex entered the Crashdown, which was still busy with the dinner rush. Isabel was sitting by herself in a booth, calm in the midst of chaos, gracefully flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine. "About time you got here," she commented. "I've read this thing three times."

"I might as well have been here instead," Alex answered grumpily. "I didn't accomplish anything." He slid into the booth, sitting opposite her.

Isabel watched him curiously. "What were you trying to do?" she asked.

"Talk to Michael. But I couldn't find him."

Isabel looked concerned. "He's been impossible to track down since Saturday night, and believe me, Max and I have tried. He wasn't in school at all yesterday, and he didn't answer the phone."

"He was back today."

Frowning, Isabel corrected him. "He may have been there in body, but he wasn't in mind. He was...distant. Even more than he's been since the...split. It was as if he were paying attention to something nobody else could see. I'm worried about him."

Alex leaned on the table and stared down, lost in thought. Eventually, Isabel broke in and changed the subject. "Well, it seems like my evening was as much a waste as yours." She gestured over to where Maria was serving a tray of burgers to a famished-looking group of teenagers. "I watched her, but nothing unusual happened."

"That's good," said Alex, forcing a smile into his voice.

"Well, now you're here, I guess I'll head home," Isabel decided. "Maybe I can still help my mom with some late trick-or-treaters."

Alex felt a twinge of guilt. "Sorry I made you miss it."

"It's okay, Alex. Mom will understand. She always does." Smiling, she slid out of the booth. "You get back to watching Maria. Max and I will concentrate on talking to Michael. We'll get through to him somehow."

Alex wanted to believe her, but had doubts. "What if you can't?" he asked softly.

The smile slid off her face as a serious look appeared in her eyes. "We have to. Things can't go on like this." Reaching into her bag, she fished out her wallet.

"Let me get that," he offered. "After all, you did me a favor."

She didn't quibble. "Thanks, Alex."

He watched her go, then turned his attention toward the small blonde waitress who was ringing up some departing customers. She looked strained. Sure, she smiled cheerfully at the couple as they paid their bill, but he knew her too well to accept that she really felt that happy. She was just getting to be an excellent actress, that was all.

Heading over to the booth, Maria quipped, "I see the second shift is on. Can I get you anything?"

"A root beer and a burger would be great," he answered, not bothering with a menu. He studied her carefully. Her eyes looked lost, but her face displayed a cheerful demeanor that was quite at odds with what he knew she was feeling. She bore up under his probing gaze for a moment, then snapped, "What? I'm fine."

"Okay. You're fine, nothing's wrong in the world, and I'm just here for a bite to eat. No problem."

She flushed. "Look, I...I'll just go get your root beer, okay? You can worry about me later." Turning abruptly, she headed for the counter before he could speak up. Alex tiredly rubbed the back of his neck. Surprise, surprise. This wasn't going to be easy.

Alex was still sitting in the booth as she finished closing up the restaurant. Agnes had been scheduled, but had left early, leaving Maria to clean up by herself, and she'd stubbornly refused Alex's offer of help. She wanted to keep busy for as long as possible, in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid all thought processes.

Yawning, she finished sweeping up and put the broom and dustpan away. It was just like Alex to wait for her, so he could make sure she got home okay. She suspected that he would have even if he hadn't been on stalker detail. She smiled and called out, "I've just got to change, and we can go, all right?"

An affirmative grunt accompanied her into the back room. Untying her silver apron, she headed over to her locker, only to stop abruptly at the sight of the alien lying on the couch. The small, green, stuffed alien doll, that is. Its head had been ripped off and a folded piece of notebook paper was speared to its small chest with an open safety pin. With her hands trembling, Maria freed the note and unfolded it. The printing on it scrawled violently across the page. GUESS WHO'S NEXT? it asked.

In a shaky voice, Maria called out softly. "Alex?"

"Yeah?" came the response.

Her voice continued to tremble. "Could you come here? Please?"

Instantly he was through the door and by her side. "What is it?"

"Look," she faltered, pointing to the decapitated doll and handing him the paper. "It's another note. Only this time there's more to it."

He read the message and looked at the stuffed toy. "This is getting serious, Maria."

"I know. And it's not just pointed at me any more. It's an alien, Alex. Someone knows about Michael, Max, or Isabel. Or all three of them," she stated in a frightened voice. "Liz should be upstairs. I'll get her; you call the other three. We need to talk."