CHAPTER 26

Darting up the steps to the Parkers' home, Maria felt a thousand questions race through her mind. She impatiently shook them off and tapped on the apartment door before poking her head inside.

"Hello, Maria," called Nancy Parker as she entered from the kitchen. "Everything all right?"

"What? Oh, yeah, it's fine. We're all locked up for the night," Maria blurted quickly. "Ummm...is Liz home?"

"She's in her room," Nancy answered. Watching as the girl hesitated for a moment, she continued, "Since when have you stood on ceremony here, Maria? Go on back."

"Alex is downstairs. We just...we wanted to talk to Liz about a school project." Well, she'd found the first two notes at school, so that wasn't completely untrue, was it?

"I'll send him on in when he comes up," Liz's mother offered. "You go ahead."

"Thanks, Mrs. Parker," Maria said, pasting a smile on her face before heading down the hall to Liz's room. The door was open and she walked right in. Liz was sitting on her bed, a book in her hands. "Liz, we need to talk."

Setting the book down, Liz answered, "What's going on?"

"I don't mean you and me," Maria explained quickly. "I mean all of us. All six of us. Alex is downstairs calling the others."

"What happened?"

"We've got a problem. I found another note. And it's not just me they're after any more."

Max listened impatiently as the phone on the other end rang for the fourth time. Finally, he heard a click, and Michael's answering machine began to play. The recording was short and to the point: "Leave a message." If Max hadn't been so concerned, the message would have amused him like it usually did. It was quintessential Michael, wasting no time on trivialities. But this was not a usual situation, and Max was worried.

He spoke into the phone. "If you're there, pick up, Michael. We need to talk." There was silence on the other end of the line, and he went on, "You made a promise, Michael. You promised that if I helped you with the dreamwalk, we would talk. And you've been avoiding me ever since. The time is now, Michael. Either pick up or I'll come over there and dog you until you come through. You're not sliding out of this one."

Another moment or two of silence, and then he heard a soft click as the phone on the other end was picked up. "Now's not a good time," a gruff voice on the other end said.

Max sighed, exasperated. "It's never a good time, is it, Michael? Look, we can't wait any longer. Either come over here or I'll come over there, but either way, we need to--"

A flustered Isabel burst into his room, interrupting his diatribe. Clutching her cell phone in her hand, she spoke urgently. "We need to get to the Crashdown right away. Something's wrong."

Max's heart took a giant leap into his stomach. "Liz?" he exclaimed in panic.

"No, she's fine. So are Maria and Alex. But there's a big problem. We need to get over there, now." She noticed the phone in his hand. "Is that Michael?" she guessed. "Yeah. I finally got through," her brother answered. "Good, he needs to come, too. Tell him," she ordered, and then lifted the cell phone to her ear. "Alex? You still there? Max and I are coming, and Max is on the phone with Michael, so he'll tell him about it, too. We'll be there as soon as we can." "Change in plans," Max said to Michael. "Meet us at the Crashdown. We've got a problem." The response was terse. "I can't." Finally losing his temper, Max shouted into the phone, "You can and you will. If your friendship with Liz and Alex, if your relationship with Maria, if Isabel and I have ever meant anything at all to you, you'll be there. Ten minutes, Michael." Hanging up the phone, he grabbed his shoes and spoke to a startled Isabel. "Come on."

Maria sat on the edge of Liz's balcony, watching the other four as they tensely conversed. "He's not coming," she murmured numbly. "We might as well get started."

"He'll be here," Max insisted. "He won't let us down."

Isabel put her hand on his shoulder. "You told him ten minutes, Max. It's been forty."

"Something held him up, but he'll be here," her brother repeated.

"We don't have a lot of time," Alex pointed out. "Mrs. Parker thinks Maria, Liz and I are up here talking about a school project, but it's getting late. She'll come kick us out soon. We can't afford not to talk about this, so let's get started. If Michael--" Max flashed him a fierce look. "When Michael gets here, we'll catch him up. All right?"

The other four agreed, although Max was somewhat hesitant. Biting her lip, Maria began.

"For the past few weeks, I've been getting these...weird notes. Liz knows about it, and I just told Alex the other day, but I didn't want to bother you guys with it. I thought...well, I hoped that it was nothing. And then I fell down the stairs, and I thought maybe somebody had pushed me--"

"What?" interrupted Isabel with a gasp.

"I'm fine, Max healed me, there was no proof of foul play, we got over it," Maria explained. She turned to Max. "Or so I thought, anyway. That's when Liz told you that Michael and I were...well, that I was ignoring his existence."

Isabel let out a disbelieving laugh and Alex nodded knowingly. "I had the same reaction, Isabel."

"Anyway," Maria continued, pointedly ignoring Alex's comment, "I thought someone was playing practical jokes on me or something, and that one just got out of hand. But today something happened that made me question what was really going on." She swallowed. "I guess it's better if you see for yourself."

"What?" asked a worried Liz.

"It's in the break room. Max, Isabel, why don't you go back down the fire escape and we'll let you in downstairs, okay?"

The two aliens quickly clambered down the ladder, while the three humans took the more traditional route back through the apartment. As they passed through the Parkers' living room, Liz told her mother, "I'm just going to walk Maria and Alex out, Mom."

"It's rather late," Nancy pointed out. "Do you two have a ride home?"

Alex and Maria exchanged a glance; he spoke. "Sure, Mrs. Parker. Actually, some friends are stopping by to pick us up."

"Good night, then," she said with a smile.

Heading downstairs, they let Isabel and Max in through the back door, and Maria led them all to the couch where the alien doll was still lying in pieces. "After we closed up, I found that." She showed the two aliens and Liz the note, which she'd held tightly ever since she'd first read it. Worried glances were exchanged all around.

"What do you think it means?" Liz asked no one in particular.

Maria answered. "Someone knows about you guys," she told the two aliens. "Or about Michael. This is a definite threat."

Isabel tried to brush her concerns away. "It could be just a Halloween prank," she ventured halfheartedly, but then shook her head. "Okay, I know it's not."

Liz studied the toy for a moment, and then asked, "Maria, why do you think this is a threat to Max, Isabel and Michael?"

"Ummm, look at it. It's an alien, Liz."

"But the whole town is filled with alien souvenirs. For that matter, your mother makes dolls just like this one. I'm not trying to downplay this," Liz assured her friend. "This whole thing is pretty disturbing. I just don't want us jumping to conclusions without a little more information."

"You said you'd been getting notes, other than this one? What did they say? Maybe they'll give us a clue," suggested Max.

Moving to her locker, Maria pulled the other two notes from her bag and held them out to the others. "These are the other notes I got. I found the sketch in my locker at school and the other one on my car."

"You won't get away with it," Isabel read aloud. "Get away with what?"

"I don't know for sure," the smaller girl admitted. "But it was right after that very public fight with Michael, and now with the alien...maybe it has something to do with him."

Isabel looked around the room, then voiced her thoughts. "Whoever it is must have been paying a lot of attention to Maria's comings and goings to be able to plant these notes without being seen. It's got to be someone nearby."

"Or someone with good equipment, like the FBI stuff we found in Michael's apartment," mused Alex. "Or hey, is invisibility a Czechoslovakian power?"

"No," answered Isabel shortly, then turned to Maria. "However they're doing it, they're really watching you."

"Okay, I already have one pair--excuse me, make that trio--of stalkers already, just among my friends," Maria pointed out. "I do so not need another one." Liz and Max exchanged confused looks, and Maria went on, "Didn't you know? This afternoon, Isabel was added to the Maria-watching detail."

Max looked at his sister, who shrugged nonchalantly. "What? Alex needed a favor, so I helped out."

"It's too bad Michael isn't here yet," Max mused. "Maybe he could get a vision from one of these notes, get a clue as to who sent them and what their intentions are."

Alex opened his mouth to speak, but closed it abruptly. He'd promised Michael not to tell Maria about the drawing and the alien's attempts to get visions from it, and now he was ruing that very same promise. But it had seemed like the thing to do at the time...

"If he can do it, maybe you can too," suggested Liz to the two aliens. "It's worth a shot, anyway."

They agreed, much to Alex's dismay. Each holding one of the notes, Max and Isabel closed their eyes, trying to summon up a vision that would give them some answers. Isabel's attempt met with no success, but after a moment, Max swayed on his feet and opened his eyes with a jerk. "Did you see something?" Liz asked.

"I think so," he answered, eyes opened wide in shock.

"What?"

He looked down at the sketch he was holding. "I saw who drew it. It was...it was Michael," he said reluctantly.

The three girls fixed their eyes on him. "What? How?" sputtered Isabel.

Maria shook her head, rejecting the idea. "No. You're wrong, Max. Michael wouldn't do this to me. You're wrong."

"I saw what I saw, Maria. I don't want to believe it either, but..." Max's voice trailed off.

"I don't care what you saw. I don't believe it!" she burst out.

Alex swallowed. He had warned Michael that his little replacement sketch was going to get him into trouble, but he'd never expected this. He could explain it so easily, but he'd made a promise. As it turned out, a colossally stupid one, but a promise nonetheless.

He had a sudden urge to go scour the streets until he found Michael and, super strength or no super strength, crack the infuriating alien a good one across the jaw. Of course, that wouldn't make Maria any more pleased with him than she already was. Or Isabel, come to think of it. And he doubted Liz would approve of the violence either. Oh well, for the sake of his own health it was just as well. But he was certainly going to try every verbal trick he could think of to secure Michael's permission to tell all. Just as soon as he saw him.

He suddenly realized that a heated debate was going on right in front of him.

"I think we have to at least consider the possibility, Maria, much as I don't want to," Max stated earnestly. "We all know he's not exactly himself. None of us can tell what's going on in his head. He might be worse off than we thought."

Isabel reluctantly added, "And Alex looked for him all afternoon, and couldn't find him. Maybe he was lurking around, waiting for an opportunity to leave you...well, the latest note."

"No, he wasn't. I would have felt it if he was nearby, and he wasn't. Just because I don't know where he was this afternoon doesn't mean that he's guilty of anything." Maria rushed on vehemently, "For that matter, I have no idea where Alex was all afternoon, or you, Max, or Liz. And Isabel could have sneaked into the back room while I was working. But that doesn't mean I'm going to go around suspecting any of you. You're not capable of this, and neither is Michael. It's...it's nasty."

Max was relieved to have an excuse to back down. He didn't want to believe it anyway. "Okay, so it's none of us. Maybe I was wrong, and didn't see what I thought I saw. I'm not all that experienced at this vision thing."

"So we rule out using visions as a clue, at least until Michael gets here and can try," Alex put in.

"I'm still not convinced it has something to do with the Czechoslovakian situation," said Liz. "If they're trying to get to you guys, why use Maria? Why not go directly to threatening you? I don't get it. It's too subtle."

"Unless they're specifically trying to get to Michael," Isabel said softly. "As much as he'd like us to think otherwise, she is--or was--his weak spot."

Alex frowned and asked, "Are they trying to get to Michael through Maria, or to Maria by using Michael? If she's his weak spot, he's certainly hers."

Maria shook her head, not really denying it. "But who would really know that? A few public arguments and one kiss in the school hallway last spring, that's all anyone would ever have seen. We weren't exactly a visible couple. He had a hard enough time acknowledging me in public as a friend, let alone a girlfriend. The only people who knew about us were you guys. Well, and my mom kind of suspected, I think."

"Finding him asleep in your bed was probably a pretty good indication," said Alex, straight-faced.

She glared at him. "You're not helping, Alex." A thought struck her. "And for some reason, I kind of think Mark could tell."

"Mark?" asked Isabel. "Mark Blumenthal?"

"Yeah. He made a comment or two at rehearsal last week that...well, let's just say that he seems to think that...he knows Michael and I have a past, I guess."

"What did he say?" asked Liz curiously.

"It doesn't matter. That was after I found the other two notes, anyway."

Alex tried to lighten the mood. "Was this before or after you laid one on him during rehearsal?" he asked innocently.

"Maria!" Liz gasped.

Blushing rosily, Maria looked defiantly around at her four friends. "Okay, so I used the show to try and make Michael jealous. So sue me." Her chin in the air, she continued, "Well, it must have worked, at least a little. At least Mark thought so." Alex's lips twitched with repressed humor, while Isabel and Max stared at her, eyebrows raised in a matching expression of disbelief. Liz just stood there, stunned. "Okay, so maybe it was a little too high school of me," Maria admitted, "but guess what? I am in high school! I'm allowed to do stupid things occasionally! Get over it!"

After a moment of silence, Max coughed and brought the subject back to the issue at hand. "I'm glad you told us about this," he told her, gesturing towards the notes. "I wish you hadn't waited so long."

"I didn't want to bother you with it. You would have told Michael, and I needed him to concentrate on fixing his own problems," she explained, then gave a small snort. "I mean, we're doing so well on that front...we didn't need anything else to worry about."

"So you just ignored the threat to you?" snapped Isabel. "Talk about doing stupid things, Maria! We are all friends here. If one of us has a problem, then all of us have a problem." Her voice calmed down somewhat. "Just let us know about things that happen, okay? No more secrets."

Maria smiled up at her. "No more secrets," she agreed. Without even discussing it, they both turned and looked pointedly at Alex.

"What?" he said defensively. Receiving knowing looks from the two blondes, he admitted, "Look, I want to tell you what's going on, but I've got to talk to Michael first. You wouldn't want me to betray your confidence, would you? So don't ask me to betray his." He paused. "Besides, what I know isn't really anything you can't figure out for yourself."

Maria pounced on this. "He's not just stalking me. He's guarding me, isn't he?" Alex looked back at her, not giving a clue one way or another. Knowing him so well, Maria took this as confirmation. "I knew it! But from what? Yeah, okay, he saw the sketch, but I convinced him it was just a joke, so why is he doing it? He has no idea about the other note, or tonight's decapitated alien, or the fact that I fell and broke my ankle--"

An extremely upset voice from behind them barked, "You what?" As one, they turned to see a white-faced Michael standing in the doorway.

CHAPTER 27

"Michael," breathed Maria. He'd come. She hadn't been sure he would, but she'd hoped. And he was here, so suddenly that she'd hardly had time to sense him before he spoke. He'd actually come. He...

...looked terrible. His eyes were dark pools in a washed-out face; his clothes were wrinkled; even his hair stuck out sloppily. In more directions than usual. Maria noted this in a flash, instantly forgetting the notes, the beheaded alien, everything except Michael. "Are you all right?" she asked tensely.

Ignoring her question, his eyes bored into hers. "You what?" he demanded, then looked away and visibly seemed to take control of himself. "You what?" he repeated, softer this time.

"I..." she began, only to stumble to a halt at the dead look in his eyes.

Alex sighed. This was evidently going to take some time. "We've got a lot to discuss. Why don't we sit down?" he suggested.

Nodding her thanks, Liz led the others into the Crashdown's dining room and summoned the energy to play hostess. "Let me take your coats," she said to the alien trio. Isabel handed hers over with a smile, with Max following suit. Liz turned to the newcomer, who was standing in the doorway leading back to the break room, his eyes fixed on Maria. "Michael?" she said, her hand out for his jacket.

He turned to her and mumbled, "I'll keep mine." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ignored the odd look she gave him before she turned away to drape the Evanses' jackets neatly over the counter.

"Come sit down," ordered Maria, who had slid into the booth, beside Alex. Michael reluctantly approached, reaching an arm out to snag a chair and pull it over to the booth next to her. As Liz crossed to join them, he hesitated, then gave a little nod towards the empty chair, silently offering it to her.

"Thanks," she said. He didn't respond, only moved back to grab another chair and pull it over, setting it slightly apart from the others and then sitting. He looked up to find five pairs of eyes studying him. He ignored four of them.

"Tell me what happened to you," he said, scrutinizing her face.

"I will; that's why we're all here," Maria answered, "but first, please tell me you're all right."

Michael looked away and said in a toneless voice, "I'm fine."

"You are not!" she burst out. "You look horrible."

His mouth twisted and he replied coldly, "It's Halloween, isn't it? See my costume--I'm a human."

Not liking the direction this was taking, Max took charge. "Calm down," he commanded. "We have a lot to talk about, and everyone needs to act rationally here if we're going to accomplish anything." He looked around. "Any arguments?" No one spoke. "Okay, this is how it's going to play out. Michael, you will reassure Maria about your health, and she will tell you what's been going on. Then we will talk about your little stalking project. Anything else we need to discuss will come after that. Got it?" Again, no dissension, although Michael's jaw clenched. Max turned to his oldest friend. "She's right, Michael. You look like hell. Have you gotten any sleep since Saturday night?"

The answer was controlled. "No."

"Then after this, I'm taking you home so you can get some rest. If you can't fall asleep on your own, I can--"

"No. And I'm fine. Are you done now? Can we move on?," he said, meeting Maria's eyes once more.

Alex spoke up. "Hey, if you'd gotten here with the rest of them, you'd already know what's going on. The early bird gets the information, buddy. What kept you so long, anyway?"

The alien began to fold his arms over his chest, then stopped with a jerk and let them drop back down to rest at his sides. "Nothing." He turned to Max. "You said to come. I came. So get on with it. I don't have all night."

"Michael!" Isabel chided.

Maria, who'd been watching with narrowed eyes, interrupted. "No. He's right. Don't push him."

"I really don't think--"

"It's all right. He kept his end of the bargain--he says he's fine. So we need to keep ours. Go ahead and tell him, Max. We're not keeping secrets any more, remember?"

Max looked around at his sister and friends. Maria gave him a deliberate nod, and he began to tell Michael about the notes Maria had received. It didn't take very long, and throughout the telling, Michael, who was getting visibly more tense with each minute, kept his gaze fixed resolutely on Max. Maria kept hers on Michael.

"...and I tried to get a vision from it, but it didn't work very well," Max wound up.

"You mean, you saw something that couldn't have happened," Alex added.

Michael turned to the other alien. "Why? What did you see?"

Max looked ill at ease, and Alex spoke quickly, trying to send a signal to Michael. If he could just prod the taciturn alien enough to make him come clean about it..."He saw the artist, and guess who it was?"

"It doesn't matter," Max claimed. "It can't have been real, anyway."

"Why don't you try it, Michael?" suggested Liz. "You've had the best success at getting visions in the past. Or if you can't get something from the sketch, maybe you'll pick up something from one of the other notes. Anything to help us figure out who's sending them, and what they want."

"He can't," objected Maria. "No powers, remember?" She locked gazes with Michael, who shifted uncomfortably before tearing his eyes away from her.

Indignant, Isabel spoke. "That's not his fault, Maria."

"Oh, I know that. Don't go all mother bear on me, Isabel." Maria's tone was casual. "Michael can take care of himself. Heck, he's even taking care of me, isn't he?"

"Which would be easier to do if you had told us about this stuff sooner," Michael lectured tautly.

"What, you're complaining that I'm keeping things from you?" Maria cried incredulously. "This from Mr. 'I'm Going To Lurk In The Shadows And Not Tell Anybody What's Going On'?"

"You should have told Max and Isabel at least, even if you couldn't trust me."

Maria's jaw dropped in shock. "Couldn't trust you? Who said anything about not trusting you?"

In an attempt to defuse the situation, Liz interrupted. "Let's get back to the matter at hand, okay? Since what Max saw was wrong, and Isabel and Michael didn't have any luck, it looks like visions aren't the way to go. We could use another plan."

"We don't need it," said Michael abruptly. "I can tell you what Max saw, and it wasn't wrong. He saw me, didn't he? So I must be the one causing the problems." His voice grew bitter. "Max wasn't wrong. Don't you know by now? Max is never wrong." Thrusting back his chair as he stood, he crossed to the counter and leaned on it, his back towards them.

Maria followed. She spoke to his back, carefully not touching him. "He is wrong, Michael. He may have seen you drawing the sketch, but the vision was misleading. He could only see your actions, not your intent. You aren't the one making the threats. I know you, Michael, and I don't believe it."

From his seat in the corner of the booth, Alex spoke. "Look, I know I made you a promise, but I'm sorry, I think I have to break it. So if you don't want me to, you'd better speak up now." Michael remained silent, his back still turned.

Alex took a deep breath, then spoke to the other four. "Okay, this is what happened. Michael did draw the sketch." Putting up a hand to halt Maria's incipient protest, he continued, "But the sketch you have now isn't the one from your locker. He replaced that one so he could keep it and try and get a vision from it. When you dropped it at lunch that day and he picked it up, he got a feeling of danger, but he couldn't tell what or how, so he kept it to try and get more information. No luck there, but he's been keeping an eye on you ever since. Well, with my help."

Maria swung back around to face the alien at the counter, noticing the set tenseness of his shoulders, as if awaiting a blow. She supposed she should feel angry with him, for keeping this all a secret in the first place. It was what he was expecting, she knew. But somehow she couldn't. She took a step closer towards him, noting him stiffen perceptibly, and spoke simply. "Thank you, Michael." Turning away, she missed his slight relaxation as she calmly moved back to the booth, sitting once more. Alex, beside her in the booth, looked at her with surprise and pride.

"Pretty cool move, DeLuca," he said under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear. She gave him a careless shrug.

"Hey, no big," she responded with a smile.

Max, sitting back in the booth, let out a breath of air and relaxed for the first time since he'd had the vision of Michael with the sketch. He should have had more faith in Michael. Maria had, why hadn't he? Looking up, he saw Liz gazing warmly at him, as if she could tell what he was thinking. She gave him a reassuring smile, and he began to feel like maybe things weren't all that hopeless after all. To hide his almost elated rush of feeling, he looked down at the notes, which Maria had tossed onto the table. "If this isn't the real sketch, maybe the right one will tell us something. Where is it, Michael?"

There was no response, and he turned to look at his friend, who hadn't moved since he'd gotten to the counter. Michael's head was slightly tilted as if his attention were focused elsewhere, but all Max could see beyond him was the pass-through to the kitchen, and nothing looked unusual there. Puzzled, he called out again. "Michael?"

It took a moment for him to be heard, but then Michael turned with a jerk and brought his attention back to the group. "Yeah?"

"Where is the other sketch?"

Fumbling in his pocket, the alien pulled out a folded piece of paper, slightly the worse for wear. Max unfolded it and compared the two sketches.

"Wow," said Isabel, who was looking over his shoulder. "It's a very good copy, Michael." Michael shrugged it off. "Except I think yours looks a little more like Maria."

"Let me see," the sketch's subject demanded, taking both drawings and studying them carefully. Satisfied, she refolded the one Michael had drawn and got up from the booth.

"Where are you going?" asked Liz as the girl moved past her.

"To the break room to put this in my bag," Maria responded calmly.

Michael watched her, a confused expression on his face. "Why?"

"You drew it, so I'm keeping it."

He managed to get one word out. "But--"

"Hey, if you don't like it, draw me another one. Without a giant X scrawled across my face. Until then, this one's mine," she answered lightheartedly. Swinging the door to the break room open, she froze, startled, as she heard a voice from upstairs.

"Liz? Are you still down here?" Nancy Parker called as she descended the staircase.

Recovering, Maria greeted her. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Parker. Sorry, everybody's in there. Our ride came and we got to talking. I just came in to change out of my uniform, and we'll go." The woman passed into the restaurant proper, and Maria began to fumble hurriedly with the buttons on her uniform, keeping a careful ear on the conversation in the next room.

"Hi mom," said Liz, just barely avoiding sounding guilty. "We--"

Max, who had stood at the woman's entrance, spoke quickly. "Hello, Mrs. Parker. We were just leaving."

"Hello, Max. And Isabel." Nancy turned and studied the third member of the alien trio, who was still standing by the counter. "And Michael. It's been a while since we've seen you here." He ducked his head and studied the floor at his feet. "You should try to come in a little more often," she added kindly. "Just because you don't work here any more is no reason to be a stranger." Looking up to see the gentle expression in her eyes, Michael swallowed and gave a quick nod. Liz's mother smiled at him and then turned to the others. "So, the three of you came by to give Maria and Alex a ride?"

"Actually," said Maria as she entered, dressed in street clothes, "Max and Isabel are taking Alex, and Michael is walking me home." She fixed her eyes on Michael, challenging him to contradict her in front of Mrs. Parker. He looked like he wanted to protest, but shoved his hands in his pockets and remained mute.

Mrs. Parker eyed them both with interest, then said, "It's pretty late, and there may still be Halloween pranksters running around. Why don't you give Liz a call when you get home, so we'll know you got in all right?"

In concern, Maria noted the slight drooping of Michael's shoulders as he looked down at the floor once more. She could tell what he was thinking, that Liz's mother didn't trust him with her. A tiny spark of indignation began to glow deep within her. Why, what did the woman think he would do? Michael, of all people, who'd gone out of his way to watch out for her. Michael, who--

That spark of indignation flickered away as Nancy continued, "That goes for all of you, as a matter of fact. I expect Liz to get four phone calls in the very near future, telling us you're all home safe, all right?"

Four voices rose in assent. Even Michael, caught in Mrs. Parker's firm gaze, nodded. Maria looked over to the table.

"Don't worry, I've got those project notes we were working on," said Alex, holding up several folded pieces of paper.

"Good. I've got the other materials in my bookbag," she said, gesturing to where she'd thrust the pieces of alien doll from the couch.

"So we'll continue working on the project tomorrow?" Liz asked, and they nodded back at her.

"Yeah, we'll see you then," Maria said, and then started for the break room and the back door. "Good night, Mrs. Parker. Coming, Michael?"

Wordlessly, he followed in her wake. Saying their good nights, the other three left the restaurant as well. Outside, they headed towards the Evanses' Jeep, which was parked in the alley. "Hop in, we'll give you a lift," Isabel offered.

"That's all right. I feel like walking. After tonight, I could use some fresh air," said Maria calmly. "Besides, now that my stalker here is out in the open, he can walk me home and protect me at the same time."

Max studied her dubiously, then commented with a shake of his head, "We're not done discussing this. We still have a lot talk about."

"I know," said Maria. "I've got rehearsal tomorrow, and I think Liz is on for a few hours in the Crashdown. How about if everyone comes over to my house for dinner? My mom had plans to meet some friends, so the house will be empty."

"Dinner? Are you actually going to make dinner?" asked Alex in alarm. "There's a reason you're a waitress and not a cook, you know."

"So we'll order pizza or something," she shot back. "The point is, we'll be able to talk without interruption."

"It sounds good to me," said Max. Isabel nodded her agreement.

Maria turned to Michael. "What about you? Do you have to work? Can you be at my place at 6:00?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, six it is. I'll tell Liz," Maria decided. She smiled at Isabel, Max and Alex as they climbed into the Jeep. "I'm glad you all know," she said. "It feels better to have you in on this."

"We needed to be," pointed out Isabel. "The six of us work best as a team."

"You're right about that. See you tomorrow." Maria watched as the Jeep pulled out of the alley, and then turned to the silent alien who stood nearby. "Come on. Let's get me home."

Together they began the walk across town to the DeLuca residence. Maria gave an occasional glance up at Michael, who looked as if he were miles away in thought. She didn't feel the urge to pull him back; somehow just walking next to him was enough for now. So they continued silently down the streets, passing the occasional dog-walker and late-night Halloween partier. Arriving at her house, she unlocked the back door and then turned to look up at Michael. "Good night," she said warmly. He stood looking back down at her, and didn't move. "What?" she asked with a laugh.

"Aren't you..." he began, "Aren't you going to get on my case?"

"For what?"

"For everything. Not telling you about the note, for watching you all the time, for...everything."

Maria studied his carefully controlled expression and took note of a hint of pain lurking in his eyes. "Nope. Not tonight, anyway." She smiled at him. "Look, I'm home safe, things are fine. Will you please go back to your place and get some rest? No hanging around at all hours of the night, waiting for some unknown threat to appear." His mouth worked, but he didn't answer, and she went on, "Look, I won't be able to sleep if I know you're hanging around, and I will know, remember? You need to get some sleep, too. I'll be fine, I promise."

He hesitated for a moment and then commanded gruffly, "Latch your window." She nodded.

"I will." With one last look up at him, she stepped inside and locked the door behind her. She watched as he looked around suspiciously and then headed around the house towards the front sidewalk.

A noise behind her made her jump, and she turned around her heart pounding. It was only her mother, standing by the refrigerator.

"Oh...hi, Mom," she exclaimed.

"Hi honey," Amy returned. "Late night at work?"

"Ummm, yeah," Maria responded absently. "So, did you get a lot of trick-or-treaters?"

Her mother smiled. "Not too many. There's still a stash of chocolate left over for you." She went back to pouring herself a cup of herbal tea.

"Oh, good." Maria set her bag down on the counter and fidgeted for a moment. "Mom?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you still going out tomorrow night?"

"I'm planning on it."

"Well, is it all right if I have some friends over for dinner?"

"What friends? How many?" Amy asked.

"Oh, just a few. Liz, and Isabel and Max Evans, and Alex." Her voice faded, and she mumbled, "Oh, and Michael."

Amy raised her eyebrows in surprise, and looked past Maria to the back door. "Michael, huh?"

Maria met her eyes, answering defensively, "Yeah."

Studying the importuning expression on her daughter's face, Amy agreed. "I suppose it's all right. But don't keep them here too late; it's a school night."

"I won't," Maria assured her. "They'll probably be gone before you get back, anyway."

"Sure then. Have a good time."

"Thanks, mom," Maria said in relief. "Well, I have a little more homework to do, so I guess I'll go do it. Good night." She picked up her bookbag and headed towards her room, shutting the door behind her. Tossing her bag on her bed, she moved purposefully towards the window and opened it, hissing, "Michael! I told you to go home!"

A figure detached itself from the shadows. "I know. I just wanted to make sure you latched your window."

"Oh. Okay," she responded. "And then you'll go home and try to get some sleep?"

"Yeah, then I'll go home," he promised.

"Good night, then." She gently closed the window and turned the latch, locking it in place as he watched carefully. He didn't move away from the house, and she unlatched the window before opening it for a second time. "What is it Michael?" she asked, intently studying his worn face. "Was there something else you wanted to tell me?"

For a moment, he looked like he was going to say something, but he bit back the words and looked away, shaking his head roughly.

Disappointed, Maria sighed, "Okay, then. Goodnight." A moment later she was once more safely locked in. Putting a palm against the glass, she leaned close to the window, and said softly, "Pleasant dreams."

His mouth twisted in a quick grimace that was gone before she was sure she'd seen it, and then, surprisingly, he put a hand up to hers, with only the windowpane separating them. "Yeah, you too," he responded, then turned and disappeared into the night. She watched him go, and then slowly picked up the phone to call Liz.

CHAPTER 28

"So, what do you think?" asked Terri Hutchinson, stepping back.

Maria studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror, taking in the bouffant hairdo, the false eyelash and bright lipstick, and the discolored mark which surrounded her left eye. She didn't look like herself. She looked like--well, Audrey. Which was just how she was supposed to look.

"After the first scene, you'll wipe off the bruise, add shadow, liner and the other eyelash, and you'll be set for scene two," the makeup artist told her. "So you think you can reproduce this?"

"I think so," the girl responded. "The black eye may take a little practice, though."

"Just remember to stipple the dark purple and a little green into the black to make it three-dimensional," Terri instructed. "Otherwise it will read flat under the stage lights and look fake."

"Well, it looks pretty darn realistic now," said Maria with a smile. "I look like I've been in a fight or something."

Terri grinned at her. "It's too bad I couldn't get down here last week," she said. "Then you could have practiced on the weekend and had a shiner for Halloween. It's kind of macabre, but bruises and wounds make for a fun costume."

"Actually, my Halloween was plenty scary by itself, without the fake bruises," Maria responded with a shudder. Seeing Terri's curious look, she prevaricated, "I had school and work. Each frightening on its own."

"Enough said," laughed Terri. "I know what you mean. You think it's bad now, just wait until you get to college." She put down the powder brush. "So, let's head out to the auditorium and get Ms. Bedinger's approval, and then you can clean up."

Together they headed down the hall towards the auditorium, where Ms. Bedinger was running a scene with the three doo-wop girls and Mark. At an appropriate break, Maria climbed up onto the stage to let the teacher study Terri's makeup design under the lights.

"Yes, that's exactly what we need," said Ms. Bedinger with satisfaction. "It will work very nicely." Maria smiled as from the orchestra pit Alex gave her a double thumbs-up.

Terri approached the stage. "I need to talk to the trio about their hair and makeup now," she told Maria. "So you can go ahead back to the bathroom and take the make-up off. You can use baby wipes for the first layer, and I left cold cream and some towels by the sink."

"Terri, thanks for your help," Maria said gratefully.

"Hey, no problem. I owed Ms. Bedinger a favor; this is an easy way to work it off," the makeup designer answered with a smile.

As she headed into the hallway, Maria looked at her watch. It was almost 4:30; she should be done with rehearsal and home in plenty of time before the rest of the gang would arrive. She should probably stop off and get some Tabasco sauce, she thought. It wasn't exactly a staple in the DeLuca household.

She idly wondered how Michael was doing. They hadn't spoken in either of the classes they'd shared, although she was aware of him watching her carefully. He seemed to have done what she asked and gone home the night before--at least she guessed so, since she hadn't felt him around during the night. She'd awakened to an early-morning phone call from Isabel, who had arranged for Max to drop her off at the DeLucas' so she could accompany Maria to school; Michael had evidently been off duty this morning as well. Hopefully he was a little more rested. Not that he looked much better, although he'd evidently pulled himself together enough to put on clean clothes before coming to school. That was at least a start.

Speak--or rather think--of the devil. There he was, coming down the hallway from the direction of the shop classroom. He must have been working on the plant puppets, she thought with pleasure. Strange how she could be so unhappy with that fact, and then just a few days later it made her giddy with happiness. She smiled as she called, "Hi, Michael," down the hall.

She was totally unprepared for the look of shock on his face that drained away in a flash to pure anger. In an instant he had rushed to her side and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Are you okay?" he burst out. "Who did this to you? I'll kill him." He was practically shaking with rage.

"Michael!" she cried, trying to cut through his anger, enough so that he would actually hear her. "Michael, listen to me. I'm not hurt. It's make-up for the show. I'm not hurt," she repeated firmly, reaching up a hand and wiping at the dark makeup underneath her eye. "See? It looks real from a distance, but look at it up close. It's just make-up, Michael."

He froze and stared down at her face, which was lifted up to his. Suddenly seeming to realize how tightly he was gripping her shoulders, he pried his hands loose and took a halting step backwards. He was still vibrating with anger. As if dragged up from unimaginable depths, a cry of "Goddammit!" escaped him, and he turned and drove a fist violently into a locker. He continued to curse and beat on the lockers, denting a few of them, paying no heed to any damage he was doing to himself. Maria reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him; with an instinctive hiss of pain, he pulled away from her and looked wildly around the hallway.

Maria began to speak in a soothing voice. "It's all right, Michael. It's all right. Come on, let me see." Some of the wildness began to dissipate from his expression, and she reached once more for his arm, gently this time. Shying away from her hands, he took a step backwards, ending up with his back against the now damaged lockers.

"Did you hurt yourself? Let me see your hand," she commanded firmly. He reluctantly held up his right hand and she studied it without touching him. "You're going to have some nice bruises there," she said upon seeing the reddened knuckles. "Come on, let go find some ice to keep it from swelling. We can get Max to take a look at it at dinner." He didn't move, and she took a few steps closer until she was standing directly in front of him.

"I'm not kidding, Michael. We should get this fixed up," she said, reaching for his hand. He jerked his arm up out of her reach, and his jacket sleeve pulled up slightly to reveal the edge of a pale-colored cloth underneath. He immediately pulled the sleeve back down, but it was too late; she'd already seen it.

She noted the once black, now faded to gray, T-shirt he was wearing underneath his jacket. Faded thought it was, it was long way from the pale color she'd seen peeking out from his jacket sleeve. "What's that?" she asked suspiciously. Again, he didn't move, only looked away from her.

"Fine," she said abruptly. "I'll see for myself." Reaching up, she began to push the jacket unceremoniously off his shoulders. An abrupt movement of protest from Michael caused her to put one finger against his chest and say, "Stand still. I'm not going to hurt you, but I am going to take a look at your arm. You can leave if you want, but you're going to have to go through me to do it. Got that?" She freed his left arm before moving to his side to ease the jacket off the right arm, tossing the garment casually to the floor. The pale colored cloth she'd seen was wrapped around his forearm and knotted clumsily in several places. Maria felt suddenly lightheaded.

She bent down to snag his jacket and then a grabbed a fistful of his shirt, using it to pull him along with her into the nearby bathroom. He opened his mouth to protest, but a glare from her quickly closed it. "It's just the girls' bathroom, Michael. Get over it."

With her free arm, she swept the jar of cold cream and towels Terri had left to the far side of the counter, and then pointed to the counter. "Sit there," she commanded. His mouth tightened stubbornly, and she threatened, "If you don't sit up there by yourself, then I'll put you there." She looked up at him towering over her, and realized how ridiculous this idea was. As if she could just pick him up and move him wherever she wished, like a stuffed animal. Yeah, Michael the teddy bear. Not. An amused smile threatened to break through, but she managed to hold it back. "Come on, Michael. Just sit down, okay?" With a sigh, he obeyed her.

Okay. She could handle this. With trembling fingers, she reached towards his arm. "I'll try not to hurt you," she promised. Slowly she fumbled with the knots and gently unwrapped the cloth, which turned out to be strips of an old T-shirt. Maria bit back a sob at what she saw underneath.

His forearm was covered with angry red burns and white blistered spots, some of which had begun to ooze slightly. "Oh my god," Maria whispered. In shock, she looked at Michael, who was staring stonily into the distance as if to disassociate himself from what was going on. Ideas of doctors, or hospitals, or, better yet, Max rushed through Maria's head. Bracing herself, she looked down once more at the wounded arm. Her heart thudded painfully once and then froze in her chest as she realized where she'd seen him hurt like this before. Exactly like this.

It was in the round room.

He'd told her he'd tried to use his powers, and they'd backfired, hurting him.

And now here was Michael, with the same wounds he'd had then.

She knew for sure what she'd begun to suspect yesterday.

He was back.

CHAPTER 29

Several moments that seemed like hours passed before Maria was able to pull herself together enough to speak. "We need to get this looked at," she said steadily, holding in the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. "I don't know what to do for it. I mean, basic first aid isn't quite going to cut it here." She could practically feel herself start to babble, and she closed her mouth resolutely.

Looking at Michael once more, she saw that he was sitting very still, his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. He looked tired and in pain, and her heart could hardly stand it. "Michael?" she said, touching his cheek gently when he didn't respond, "I'm taking you home, okay? We'll get Max to come fix you up and you'll be as good as new." His mouth twisted and he wouldn't meet her eyes.

She looked around, hesitant to restore his makeshift bandages to his arm, and finally picked up one of Terri's clean towels and wrapped it carefully around his forearm, securing it with a few bobby pins from the makeup designer's case. He slid off the counter when she was done, and picked up his jacket, sliding it carefully on over the protective towel. "Come with me," Maria told him, leading him from the bathroom and into the hall towards the auditorium.

Once inside, she pointed him to a seat in the last row and rushed down to find Ms. Bedinger. "I thought you were taking your makeup off," the teacher commented.

"I'm sorry, but something's come up. An emergency. I have to go," Maria told her with haste.

The teacher frowned. "We still have several scenes to run," she reminded the girl.

"I know, but I can't. This is more important."

A raised eyebrow let her know that, according to Ms. Bedinger, nothing else was more important than the show. "And just what is the nature of this emergency?"

"It's a family emergency," Maria answered firmly. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go now." Without waiting for a response from the disconcerted teacher, she turned and started back up the aisle, only to be stopped by a concerned Alex.

"What's going on?" he asked quietly.

She responded in a low voice. "Michael's hurt. I need to get him out of here so Max can help him."

Instantly, Alex moved into action, calling down to the guitar player. "Hey Dwight, put my bass and amp away for me, will you?" He received a nod and turned back to Maria. "Let's go, then."

Together they headed back up the aisle, ignoring the curious looks from the cast on stage. When they reached Michael, they found him sitting stoically, eyes fixed ahead. It took several whispers of his name from Maria before he seemed to realize they were there, but he finally rose and followed the girl out of the auditorium, down the hall and into the parking lot. All without saying one word.

Maria situated the distracted alien in the front passenger seat and then tossed her bookbag to Alex, who'd climbed into the back. "My cell phone's in the bag. Call Max and Isabel and tell them to pick up Liz and get over to my place, fast."

Noting the seriousness of her tone, Alex did as she asked without quibbling. A short while later, the Jetta pulled up to the DeLuca's house, and Maria crossed her fingers that her mother had already left for the evening.

Michael was once again staring at nothing, and Maria had to repeat his name several times before he turned and looked at her, staring numbly at her face without moving. Sighing, she reached up and unbuckled his seatbelt, saying, "Come on, Michael, let's get you inside."

She barely had the back door unlocked and open, calling questioningly, "Mom? I'm home," when Amy appeared in the kitchen, fastening an earring as she entered.

"Hi, honey. You're home early."

With great aplomb, Maria answered, "Oh yeah. Rehearsal got out early, so we came on over."

"So I see. Hello, Alex. Michael," her mother added coolly.

Alex returned her casual greeting, but Maria was surprised when Michael managed one as well, saying in a gravely voice, "Hello, Mrs. DeLuca."

Exchanging a questioning glance with Alex, Maria told her mother, "We're just going into the living room, Mom."

"I'd like to speak with you for a minute first, Maria."

Alex looked at first one and then the other of the DeLuca women, and cleared his throat. "We'll just head on into the other room. Come on, Michael." The two left the kitchen.

"What is it, mom?" asked Maria, setting down her bookbag.

Amy steeled herself, then straightened and said, "I'm sorry, Maria, but on second thought I don't feel comfortable having that boy in the house."

Maria immediately knew she wasn't talking about Alex. Giving her mother a challenging look, she responded with one word. "Why?"

Amy looked uncomfortable, but managed, "He's not good for you. He gets into too much trouble--how many times has he been arrested now, anyway? He's not a good influence." Her voice trailed off as Maria let her know with a glance that she wasn't buying it. Amy paused, then spoke honestly. "I just don't like seeing you get hurt."

"What? What are you talking about? What?" Maria blustered with bravado.

"Oh come on, honey. I know how you felt about him last year. I'm your mother, remember? I also know how much you've been hurting all summer. And now things are finally going well for you again, and I don't want to see you blow it by getting mixed up with him."

"Getting mixed up?" Maria squawked, her voice cracking. "Look, Mom, you need to understand something. Whatever else he may or may not be, Michael is and always will be my friend. Nothing you can say is ever going to change that. He's been through a lot, but he's a good guy. And he's important to me."

Reaching out, Amy pushed the hair out of her daughter's face and studied her eyes. "You think you love him, don't you?"

"No. I know I love him," answered Maria honestly. Amy sighed, a distressed look washing across her face. "It's all right, Mom. Everything's going to be fine."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Yeah, me too," said Maria under her breath, before changing the subject. "So you all set for a good time tonight?"

"Yes, I am. Janet will be here to pick me up in a few minutes. I'll be back by 10:00, okay?"

"Yeah, Mom. Have a good time," her daughter returned with an over-bright smile. Amy gave her an odd look, but shook her head.

Maria was at the kitchen door when Amy said, "You know, it's a good thing Alex is over here. I'm not sure I'd let you and Michael stay here alone."

"Moooom!" protested Maria. "Michael is not going to do anything to me."

"It's not Michael I'm worried about," her mother answered. "It's you." At the girl's dumbfounded look, Amy went on, "I was young and in love once myself. And look where it got me."

"Yeah, take a look," responded Maria. "You're an attractive, independent woman who runs her own business. Really tough there, Ms. DeLuca. Besides," she added lightly, "you have the perfect daughter. What more could you ask for?"

Amy raised one eyebrow quizzically. "The perfect daughter, hmmm?"

"You betcha."

Amy smiled widely at said daughter. "Maria?"

"Yeah?"

"My very perfect daughter might want to take off her stage makeup before dinner."

Maria's hands flew to her face. She'd been so caught up with Michael that she hadn't even realized.

"There's Janet," Amy said as a car horn honked outside. "Have a good time tonight, honey. But don't do anything I wouldn't do." She paused, then added wryly, "In fact, don't do anything I did do, all right?"

"All right," laughed Maria, putting up her hands in mock submission. "See you later, Mom."

As soon as Amy had left the kitchen, the smile disappeared from Maria's face. She headed into the living room, and found Alex sitting on the couch while Michael stood by the window, gazing out at something in the distance.

"What was that all about?" Alex asked curiously.

"Oh, just Mom being Mom. Worrying about nothing," Maria tossed out. "Alex, keep an eye out for the others and let them in, will you? I'm going to get this gunk off my face."

"I was wondering if you were going to adopt that as a permanent look," joked the teen.

"Hardly. I prefer the unbruised version of me," she responded lightly. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

A short while later, she rinsed her face off and patted it dry. Looking in the mirror, she stared at her own reflection. It seemed unfamiliar, as if someone had slightly rearranged the elements into someone different. She shook her head. No time for flights of fancy now. Quickly combing out her hair, she pushed it back with a tortoiseshell band and headed downstairs. She wasn't going to bother to put any more makeup on. They could just take her the way she was.

Alex was still on the couch, watching Michael, who hadn't moved from the window. "They aren't here yet?" asked Maria. Alex shook his head.

Sitting on the other end of the couch, Maria fidgeted nervously for a minute. Should she confront Michael about his being whole, or wait until Max could fix him up? She could tell he must be in a lot of pain, and he kept doing that weird distancing thing, where he'd stare off into space. Maybe she should wait. But she needed something, anything, to keep her busy until the others arrived. "Anybody want something to drink?" she offered.

"No thanks," Alex responded, and went back to studying Michael. Michael didn't pay any attention to Maria's question or to Alex's scrutiny.

A few more moments went by. "I wish they'd get here," complained Maria. She turned to Michael. "Sit down, Michael, would you? You're making me nervous. And believe me, you do so not want to see me nervous." That seemed to capture his attention; he actually turned around and looked at her. Pointing to a nearby chair, she commanded, "Sit."

His mouth tightened, and he spoke. "I'd rather not."

"But you should rest. You're hurt."

"I'm fi--"

"Fine," she finished for him, her voice overlapping his. "I know, you're always fine, aren't you? God, Michael, you could be lying in little tiny pieces somewhere, about to die, and you'd still tell me you're fine. I know you've got a wider vocabulary than that--why don't you use it?"

"Why? I don't have anything to say."

So he had nothing to say, did he? Her lips tightened. "You don't?" she demanded sarcastically. "Why not? Were you just going to go on forever without telling me that you're back, that you're one hundred percent Michael again, that the damn dreamwalk we did actually worked?"

His face whitened, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex's start of surprise, but she blustered on, "Oh, yes, I know, Michael. I thought something was up yesterday, but I knew for sure today. I saw your arm while I was stuck in your head, remember? I can put two and two together--I'm not stupid."

Alex piped up, "Arm? What about his arm?" Neither one paid any attention. In fact, Maria rose from the couch and took a few angry steps towards Michael.

"So were you going to tell me? Tell Max, Isabel? Any of us?"

He bit out a one-word reply. "No."

"Well, why the hell not?" she yelled.

He shook his head and muttered, "It doesn't matter."

"Yes it does, it matters a lot," she insisted.

"That's not my problem."

Maria moved closer until she was staring directly up at him. "Well, what is your problem then, Michael? Enlighten me already!"

He didn't back away. "Keeping you out of trouble and then helping Max win his damn war so I can get the hell out of here, that's my problem! Satisfied?"

She blanched. She'd always known it would come one day. "You...you want to go back to your planet, don't you." It was a statement of fact, not a question. "To find your home."

"I don't care where I go. It doesn't matter where I go, don't you see that?" There was a hint of desperation in his voice.

"No, I don't see that, Michael. I don't get you. Why don't you care where you are? What's going on with you? Why can't you tell me what's happening, what you're feeling? Why do you keep trying to rebuild that damn stone wall?"

"You want to know what I'm feeling?" he choked out. "You want to understand me? Fine." Reaching out, he grabbed Maria, holding her face between his hands. For a moment she stared into his tortured eyes, and then everything she saw was swept away.

FLASH
<<Michael, trapped in the round room, beating helplessly on the walls, powerless to do anything but rage against whoever or whatever had put him there.>>

FLASH
<<An upraised fist, thundering down again and again as a small boy cowers away.>>

FLASH
<<A desert lying empty under a cloudless sky. No people, no life. Nothing.>>

The flashes were coming faster now, and with them came sound and pain and emotion. Michael's emotion.

FLASH
<<Helplessness as Hank beats him, screaming at him over and over, "You worthless sack of shit! You're nothing, do you hear me? You're nothing!">>

FLASH
<<A mixture of relief, fear and nausea as Pierce's body flies away from them and lands with a sickening thud.>>

FLASH
<<Anger, rising up so thickly it almost chokes him.>>

FLASH
<<Max's voice, saying he is tired of cleaning up Michael's messes.>>

FLASH
<<A sick awareness that he is different. Not just alien, but different from Max as well. That he is wrong, bad, an imperfect copy...some perversion of what he should be.>>

FLASH
<<Fear, rising up to overwhelm>>

FLASH
<<Horror at what he'd>>

FLASH
<<Guilt that>>

FLASH
<<Terror>>

FLASH
<<Pain>>

FLASH
<<Killer>>

With a strangled cry, Maria jerked back away from his hands. Her knees began to buckle, and strong hands caught her from behind. She vaguely heard voices, talking miles away, but all she could see was him. Michael. She stared into his tormented eyes, as if she could see all the way to the innermost chambers of his soul. Opening her mouth, she whispered, almost soundlessly.

"Oh my god."

CHAPTER 30

It took Maria several moments to even begin to process what had just happened. Part of her was aware that the arms that were holding her up belonged to Max, that Liz and Isabel were standing nearby, but most of her mind was still awash in an ocean of sound, sight and feeling. She felt as if the top of her head had been blasted off by the pressure of the emotions she'd just experienced, and that the bits and pieces that were Maria were all jumbled together with foreign yet somehow familiar pieces of someone else.

Gradually she began to pull herself together enough to straighten and stand on her own, although Max kept a supportive hand on her back. "What happened?" she heard him ask, but didn't respond, focusing all her attention on the haggard alien before her.

His expression fluctuated rapidly between anger and worry and doubt and back again before he shut himself off, visibly steeling himself for her reaction.

"Are you happy now? Did you see enough?" he asked bitterly. "Or do I have to show you more to make you understand?"

She could read him so easily now--the abrupt demeanor and aggression used as mask to hide his self-loathing and fear. He was dreading her response, deathly afraid that she would do what he couldn't and close off from him. And just as afraid that she wouldn't.

Stumbling, Maria took a step forward, shaking off Max's hand. Looking up into Michael's face, she could see within his eyes a multitude of questions he was afraid to ask. Instinctively, without hesitation or thought, she crossed the gap between them and wrapped her arms tightly around him, both asking and giving comfort.

For a moment his hands clenched. Then, heedless of his burns, his arms closed around her, loosely at first, but growing tighter as she nestled within them. With a slump, his head found its way to the crook between her shoulder and neck, and he closed his eyes tightly, bowed down by a weight almost too heavy to bear.

The others stood, silent and unmoving, not wanting to intrude on this intensely private moment.

Finally, with a small sigh, Maria reached a hand up and ran it through his spiky hair. Michael held still, taking comfort in the gentle stroke of her hand. "It's all right," she whispered. "Everything is going to be all right."

Michael, who was not so sure of this, raised his head and straightened his slumping shoulders. He allowed his arms to slide from around her. Suddenly realizing they were surrounded, he averted his gaze from the others, refusing to look at them. Unashamed, Maria reached for his left hand, and his fingers entwined with hers of their own volition. She turned to face the worried friends around her.

"What just happened here?" asked Max, voicing everyone's concern.

"Not now, Max. Give us a few minutes, will you? We can talk about it in a little while," responded Maria. She turned to the spike-headed alien, whose fingers gripped hers tightly. "Michael," she began, "let's get your arm taken care of first, all right? You need to be healed."

Max immediately took a step forward toward his friend's side, but a small shake of Maria's head stopped him in his tracks. "Isabel?" she said questioningly. "Would you heal him?"

Confused and feeling strangely betrayed, Max watched as Maria helped Michael out of his jacket and pulled him to the couch. She gently unwrapped the towel covering his forearm before sitting next to him and taking his free hand in both of hers. Isabel gave a small hiss of dismay as she took in the damage to his arm, but a serene, reassuring glance from Maria enabled her to take a breath and begin.

Placing the very tips of her fingers as lightly as possible on the wounded flesh, Isabel ignored Michael's uncontrollable flinch and closed her eyes tightly in concentration. Under her ministrations, his arm began to lose its red, angry look, and she was able to place both of her hands fully on his arm to continue the healing. Finally, she let out a deep breath and opened her eyes. Michael blinked a few times and spoke for the first time in what seemed like days. "Thanks," he said hoarsely.

"You're welcome," Isabel answered, trying to smile.

Maria looked around at her concerned friends before turning back to Michael. "Do you feel up to talking about it?" she asked.

"Not really. But I guess we need to," he answered shortly.

"I think we could all use an explanation," put in Max. Although he didn't mean to, he came off as somewhat officious, and Michael bristled.

"Sure," Maria said, running her fingers across the back of Michael's hand in a soothing motion. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. What did Michael do to his arm? And what happened to you two just now?" asked Max, concern evident in his voice.

"Oh, that. Michael was showing me something, a vision or whatever, and I'm not used to it. I just got a little lightheaded, that's all. I think I forgot to eat lunch or something."

"Lightheaded?" protested Liz. "Maria, you almost fainted."

"Well, I didn't, and I'm fine." The corners of Maria's lips twitched as she heard Michael's usual response issuing from her own mouth. She shot an amused glance over at him. "We're both fine, aren't we, Michael?"

He looked back at her solemnly and spoke in a low voice. "Who's got the limited vocabulary now?" She smiled at him, her eyes shining.

"What happened to your arm, Michael?" asked Isabel. Maria could feel the alien stiffen even before his eyes shuttered right in front of them. He was so not ready to share the real explanation and have to ride out the ensuing fracas, that was for sure. Fine. Well, she would support him, whatever it took. They would just keep this one thing back from the others until he was ready to deal with it, no matter how long it took. So what if they were angry when they eventually found out? Liz would forgive them once she understood why, and Alex wouldn't even--

She swallowed as she realized. Oh, god. Alex already knew. He was there when she'd blurted everything out to Michael. She lifted panicked eyes to meet her friend's, wordlessly begging him to understand.

"Well, Michael?" demanded Max. "What happened?" Eyes flickering around the room as if trapped, Michael reluctantly opened his mouth to answer.

"Grease fire," said Alex unexpectedly. "He was making one of those awful Tabasco-laced dishes that you all seem to love so much, and spilled some cooking oil on the stove. It went up in flames. Right, Michael?"

For a split second, Michael stared at Alex in dumb shock before pulling himself together enough to nod mutely.

"And of course rather than getting it taken care of," Maria corroborated, "Spaceboy here had to ignore it for a few days to let it get really nasty-looking." Glancing at Alex, she tried to convey her gratitude.

"You should have come to us before now," Max lectured sternly. "Let us help you a little more often, will you?" Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked around at the small group of friends clustered in Maria's living room. "Well, since you're both all right and we've gotten that bit of excitement over for the day, maybe we can get back to the whole reason we're here in the first place. We need to continue last night's discussion."

Maria jumped to her feet, pulling her fingers from Michael's. "Let's do this over dinner, okay? You've all got to be starving. I'll get some drinks--someone call for pizza." Bustling out of the room, she got some glasses out of a kitchen cabinet, then leaned her forehead wearily against the refrigerator.

Suddenly, it had all seemed too much to bear, and she had felt an intense need to flee. Was this how Michael always felt? Was his tendency to run, to not get involved, due more to being overwhelmed by everything and less to a need to hide his alien nature? She was amazed that he was still among them. If she were Michael, she'd have left Roswell long ago.

Sensing someone behind her, she quickly jerked the refrigerator door open and pulled out some juice and a few cans of soda.

"Are you all right, Maria?" Liz said quietly.

Maria's response was casual. "Yeah, I'm fine." Oops. There was that word again. "I just want to get everything together so we don't have any interruptions during our talk, that's all."

"I don't buy that," Liz told her. "Your reaction to this vision thing was awfully strong. You looked completely shaken."

"I'm okay, I promise. It was just the surprise of Michael letting me into his warped brain," she joked. Then she realized what she had just said. Dropping the drinks on the counter, she bolted for the living room with a confused Liz right behind her.

Maria ignored the startled looks from the room's occupants and threw herself onto Michael's lap, bursting into tears. He held her stiffly, asking in an urgent tone, "What is it? What happened?" as he awkwardly patted her back. She shook her head, smiling as she cried. Reaching up, he wiped the tears off her face with an unsteady palm. "Don't."

"I'm not crying. I'm happy," she told him as the tears continued to roll down her face. "And it's all your fault, Spaceboy."

He tensed. "What did I do now?" he asked guardedly.

"Nothing, you didn't do anything," she hiccuped. Looking at his confused expression, she laughed and corrected herself. "Actually, yes. Yes, you did do something. You let me in, Michael. Don't you see? You let me see you."

"Yeah, I know, but...oh." An expression of realization crossed his face.

"No stone wall!" she chortled joyfully. "I mean, I was so caught up with what I saw that I didn't even realize. You let me in!" Tightening her arms around his neck, she pressed her cheek against his, grinning like a complete idiot.

It took her a moment to realize that he wasn't hugging her back. Keeping her arms loosely around his neck, she pulled back slightly. His expression was wary. "Just exactly what did you see?" he demanded.

"You don't know?"

"I didn't see anything. I was trying to make you see, remember?" he shot back. "So what did you see?" The nervousness in his voice belied his stony expression.

She hesitated for a moment as she ran through the memory in her head, then replied, "I'll tell you later, when it's just you and me, okay? I...I don't think everybody needs to know." His jaw tightened as he imagined what she might have picked up from him.

"What do you mean, we don't need to know?" asked Isabel. "I thought we were done with secrets."

"Yeah, well, some things are private," Maria answered.

"But if you saw--"

"I saw what I saw because Michael chose to let me see it. And if he wants you to know, fine, you all can play show and tell. But until then, you are not going to bug him about it. No questions, got that?" she said protectively.

Michael frowned. "What are you, my keeper? Let them ask. I'll answer if I want to." She bristled and glared at him.

Without a word, Alex and Liz exchanged speaking glances and headed out of the room, pulling Max and Isabel behind them. Maria barely noticed them go.

"Fine, Michael. Then while we're on the subject, there's one thing I need to ask, and even if you don't want to, I need you to answer."

He looked at her, half-afraid of what was to come, before sliding her off his lap and crossing to the window. As soon as she spoke, he turned abruptly away and shut his eyes as if to ward the question off. "Michael, what was that voice?"

His voice was hoarse. "What voice?"

"When we dreamwalked you the last time, I heard a voice in the distance. I couldn't make out what it was saying, but it sounded...familiar somehow. And it frightened me. Isabel heard it too." She swallowed. "When you gave me those visions, I heard it again. Michael...it called you a killer."

His face was blank, and could have been set in stone for all the animation in it. "I am one."

Rising to her feet, she spit out an angry protest. "You are not a killer, Michael. I don't care who tells you that, don't you believe them. You did what you had to do, to save Sheriff Valenti and the rest of us. That's all. You protected us. You're always protecting us." She studied him. "What is the voice, Michael?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "It doesn't tell me that."

"Do you...How often do you hear it?"

His forehead wrinkled as he let out a small burst of humorless laughter. "How often? Try all the time."

"What?"

"It's always there, in the back of my head, telling me things. Ever since I've been back, it's been there."

"And before then--it was in your dreams, where Isabel and I heard it?" she asked in a small voice.

He shifted uncomfortably, but answered. "Yeah." Maria's face wrinkled in concern, and he told her, "Don't worry about it. I can handle it."

"You have too much to handle as it is, Michael. How is it that you're still sane?"

He ran unsteady fingers through his hair. "Sane? Who says I am?" He focused for a moment on the ceiling, then swung his gaze around the room, looking at anything but the girl on the couch. The words began to pour from his mouth. "Half the time I think I'm going crazy, the other half I'm pretty sure I already am. I mean, I have two complete sets of memories for the same month of my life. I can remember being here, and I can remember being in wherever that room was, all at the same time, and my brain can hardly hang on to it. Add to that the constant barrage from the voice in my head, and the fact that I keep losing track of where I am--I'll be sitting there and the next thing you know it's ten minutes later and I have no idea what happened--Hell, no. There's no way I am anywhere remotely approaching sane."

"Well, for god's sake don't sign yourself into the asylum yet, buddy," Maria said stoutly. "You've been through an awful lot lately, stuff that would throw anybody. Put all that on top of some of the other things I saw--" He tensed, but she continued, "I wouldn't worry about being crazy if I were you. I'd be pretty darn proud to have pulled through things as well as you have."

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Michael turned once more to the window and stared out. Crossing, Maria stood behind him. "You do know that they'll have to be told eventually, don't you?" She could practically feel him wanting to expurgate that particular notion, but went on firmly. "Not everything. Just like I told Isabel, some things are private. But at some point, they'll need to know that you're back." A smile bloomed on her face. "Can you believe how great Alex was, not letting on? I mean, c'mon, a grease fire? Max couldn't argue with it, because the same thing happened to his mother last year. You've got to hand it to Alex, he's always the guy with the quick save."

"Yeah." His voice was low.

"He's a good friend, is Alex. And I will be too. I'll be there for you, you know? I mean, I'd like to talk about it sometime, about what's happened to you, and about what I saw...I'll try not to push you, though. But I'll be around if you need to talk or something." She smiled. "I'll make a deal with you--you watch my back and I'll watch yours."

"You shouldn't have to deal with my problems," he muttered.

Flinging her hands into the air, Maria let out a shriek of frustration. "Michael, that's what friends do. They care about each other. It's what the six of us are all about. So are we agreed? I'll let you help me and you'll let me help you?"

"I...I don't know if I can." She turned away, disappointed. A quiet voice stopped her. "I'll try," he said hesitantly. "But don't expect too much. I'm not good at that kind of stuff. Letting people...help."

Relieved, she felt a grin attach itself to her face. "Well, not everybody's perfect, Michael. Which is okay. I mean, if I wanted perfection I wouldn't be hanging out with you, would I? I'd be...I'd be...well, actually, I'd be pretty much out of luck trying to find someone to meet those standards, don't you think? So stop being so hard on yourself already. You're only human."

"But I'm not," he pointed out.

"Yes you are," she answered fervently. "In all the ways that matter, you are. And that's not such a bad thing to be, Michael."