Author: Katjen

Email: katjen20@yahoo.com

Rating: R

Category: M&M, AU

Summary: Maria left Roswell the summer before the shooting, and now she’s back six years later…

Disclaimer: Nope not mine…not mine at all…*sigh*…

Author's Notes: Song is "Teardrop" by Massive Attack

Mmmm...

I remember this sun…white-hot beating down on my bare head bleaching my blond hair even blonder and drying up any drop of sweat that dares to try and roll down my burning skin.

I remember this wind…this dry desert wind that lifts up particles of sand and rakes them across my body as I lay on the rock stretched out like a lizard worshipping the sun the way some people worship the moon.

It’s the first thing I do when I get back here after six years away. I go to the rock and I say hello to this desert that I used to wish upon like a star when I was a kid, and I remember staring out at it from my window, I remember admiring that black and silver-white midnight stillness thinking that there…out there past this stretch of sand is my future, my destiny...

I used to pride myself on being different, on marching to my own drummer, on being that quirky Maria-girl with a fetish for essential oils, but I think in one respect I was just like any other kid in Roswell - or any small town kid anywhere. I think we all believe when we’re young that there’s something better for us out there, past the cornfield, past the desert depending on what part of the country you hail from. I think we all depended on this idea that if we could just get out there everything would be different, better, more exciting. Very few of us ever get to find out if it’s true, because the sad fact is most small town kids stay in those small towns. They grow up there, get a job there, they get married to a boy or girl they’ve known since pre-school and then they have kids of their own who grow up feeling just as caged in and restless as they had when they were young, and it all begins all over again in an endless cycle of discontent, bitterness, and regret.

I’d like to say that I’m one of the lucky few that actually did get away, but I’d be lying because I’m here again. Six years after getting into my mother’s rusty old jetta packed up and piled high with all our belongings and driving away, I’m here again. I’m even driving the same car.

I’m not sure how I feel about it yet except for this vague feeling that I’ve betrayed that younger version of myself that wanted so badly to get away, to find a future outside of Roswell, outside of New Mexico…

I stretch one last time and get to my feet. I wipe the sand off my butt, twist my hair into a ponytail, and smile as the wind caresses my neck like a lover. I feel like it’s welcoming me back.

I refuse to feel guilty about being here now. I did get away; I did make that attempt. It’s not my fault that my future or my destiny or whatever led me right back to where I’d started from.

And it’s not like I’m staying forever.

That sixteen-year-old ghost of Maria Deluca will just have to suck it up and leave me alone.

*~*~*

I’m about half an hour outside of town and I fully expect to be pulled over. For probably the first time in my life I’m in danger of driving below the speed limit. Actually, I don’t know if what I’m doing could even constitute as driving since I’m basically just letting the wind push me down the road.

Can you tell I’m not in a hurry to once again become a citizen of Roswell, New Mexico?

An hour ago I was all right with this, with coming back. I was almost kind of relieved. Being there in the desert, sunning myself on that giant rock, I was able to just be. It’s a feeling I’ve never been able to find anywhere else, and it’s one of the few things I’ve always missed about New Mexico. The desert sucks out every bad thing that’s inside of you because it’s so much bigger, so much more important than anything you could ever have to deal with. You don’t have a name in the desert, you don’t have an identity, you’re just you and somehow that’s good enough.

My car creeps past the cheerful "Welcome" sign which of course has an alien on it offering a four-fingered wave, and I feel like I’m suffocating already. Up ahead is the Lift Off gas station and I decide to pull into it even though my tank is more than half full. I need cigarettes…strength and sanity in a box…

When I lived here all the alien references never really bothered me - I didn’t notice them. I don’t think I realized until I left this town that other ones weren’t plagued by the same space-themed restaurants and, in this case, gas stations too. But after everything… It makes my skin crawl now. It’s sick. This is a sick town. And I’m sick for coming back here.

But I can’t turn back now. I promised.

I buy a pack of cigarettes from the gas station attendant and sit on the hood of my car, squinting into the hazy distance as I light one up and take a drag. I can see the town from here, glimmering like some kind of oasis. The heat is magic, it makes Roswell shimmer, it makes it look interesting, exotic. It’s a mirage.

I take a deep breath and exhale with a swirl of smoke, "I can do this. I’m strong enough for this..."

Besides I know the truth now - I know the truth that eludes so many small town kids and keeps them miserable and haunted with "what-ifs". I’ve learned in my six years "out there" that where you live isn’t your problem - it’s who you are and sometimes who you’re with. I wasn’t happier when I left Roswell. I still had the same problems - I still had to deal with my mom, I still had to deal with the fact that I didn’t know what to do with my life and unfortunately the answers weren’t hurled at me the second we crossed the state lines. I searched for years and found nothing that excited me, that inspired me, I fell into things, things I now regret but can do nothing to change. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I’d never left at all. My life would be so different…I wouldn’t feel the need to go to the desert just so I can lose all sense of who I’ve become and what I’m here to do…

Fuck this. All this whining is stupid and self-indulgent.

I slide off my car, determined now. I notice a smooth chalk colored rock on the ground near my foot and I pick it up and put it in my pocket. I want a piece of the outside world to carry with me, just to remind me that I did leave and that when this is over I can do it again.

I can just do what I have to do and move on with my life. I can walk away.

Maybe I’ll even try school again. Mom always wanted me to graduate from college. I’m sure David will help me pay for it. He’ll owe me after this.

Hell, he’ll owe me a lot more than friggin’ tuition if this "trip" back is as horrible as I think it’s gonna be…

*~*~*

I kinda want to drive by my old house. I want to see if it’s different even though I know it won’t be - no one paints stucco… Still I’m curious about the people who live there. I want to know who has my room. I want to look inside my old window and make sure they didn’t mess it up.

I come to the street but don’t turn off. I keep going. It doesn’t matter who’s there now. There’s no me left there, there’s no mom. What’s the point?

The apartment complex is just outside of the central area. It’s gray. Gray walls, gray steps leading up to the second level. It’s kind of depressing actually…but it’s home for now.

I park the jetta beside the steps and grab my bag. I hope my stuff’s here. David said it would be.

2b, 2b…2b doobey doo…

My apartment’s right at the top of the steps. I push the key into the lock, turn it with a flick of my wrist and I’m in. He did a good job. He made an effort to make it look like my old apartment. Despite the different layout all my stuff is basically in the same place - TV against the wall with the stereo, my old brown squishy couch in the center of the room with the coffee table my mom and I decorated with random words and pictures cut out from magazines. My posters are up…Georgia O’Keefe, Jimi Hendrix, Ansel Adams, and John Lennon. He even hung up the tye dye tapestry my mom had had in her first apartment. I smile breathing in the faint scent of incense, and it tickles my nose, making me laugh a little. A lot of my mom is still here. She’s in that tapestry, that incense, that alien head cookie jar that I can’t bring myself to get rid of because I’ve had it so long.

I miss her. I miss her a lot.

The phone rings, and I feel a little burst of excitement. My first phone call.

"Hello?"

"Maria…" David doesn’t talk, he purrs.

"Hey."

"Do you like what we did?"

"Yeah it’s great…Thanks for getting all my crap down here…"

"It was no problem darlin’…I tell you what…I don’t want you to feel rushed or uncomfortable about all this - I know you didn’t want to come back here, but you’re doing the right thing and you know I appreciate it…so I just want you take your time and re-familiarize yourself with the place alright? You take as much time as you need with this little project…"

"Yeah, okay David."

"We’re all depending on you." I close my eyes against the sudden stinging sensation, and I bite my lip, trying to hold back a shaky breath.

"I know David."

"You’re gonna be fine Maria, you’re completely covered - all you’re doing is observing. Anything happens, you get scared, you give me a call and we’ll work it out okay?"

"I’m fine, I can handle it."

"Good."

"Dave?" He hates when I call him Dave, but he heard me almost cry so I have to make up for it somehow. "Max Evans is the only one you’re interested in right?"

"Yes."

"Okay just making sure."

"Have a good first day - I’ll be waiting for your report."

"Yeah."

I hang up the phone and wrap my arms around myself. I feel really cold all of a sudden.

I can’t believe I’ m doing this.

I’ve been able to put off thinking about all this for a while but now that I’m here, now that I’ve actually spoken to David here it’s all too real. And I want to laugh. I want to laugh until I cry because it’s true. There are aliens in Roswell, and David Pierce, my mom’s ex-boyfriend who happens to be an FBI agent thinks that Max Evans, quiet Max Evans from third period Intro to Bio freshman year is one of them. And he’s using me to prove it.

I sit down on my couch and stare at the braided rug in front of the TV. I trace the pattern with my eyes, trying to keep myself from freaking out.

It’s ridiculous. I’m not a special agent, I don’t know how to be a spy. And I’m scared of Max. If he really is what David says he is…how do I know he’s not gonna know what I’m up to and just melt my brains or something?

There’s a hole in the rug, a break in the pattern.

God, Max Evans…quiet Max Evans.

I never really spoke to him in high school, but I’d seen him around. He used to stop in at the Crashdown after school sometimes when I worked there with Liz Parker, my best friend pre-move.

He’d always seemed nice. Normal. Not green.

A door slams next door, and I hear footsteps, crossing the room. There’s a pause and then thumping through the walls comes the muffled guitar riff of some heavy metal song I vaguely recognize. My tapestry is shaking.

Oh yeah I’m gonna looooove my neighbor.

I think about going over there and then decide to just leave. I need to get something to eat anyway. My stomach is not very happy with me right now. I’m not very happy with me right now but…

Whatever. I don’t know Max Evans, I’m not gonna feel guilty. Besides if he is an alien… He’s dangerous. At least that’s what David says, and why wouldn’t I believe him? He’s never lied to me before.

*~*~*

I decide to go to the Crashdown for breakfast. A part of me almost believes that Liz will still be there dressed in one of those awful uniforms we used to complain about serving a cherry coke to Max Evans who will smile shyly in thanks…and then shed his skin to reveal a green slimy…

I hit my breaks as the light suddenly turns red and take a deep breath.

There is the chance that David is wrong though…I mean he said they suspected him because of something he did with Liz in September…but he never said they had actual proof.

There are aliens though…he did have hard evidence proving that…

I don’t want to think of those pictures…of that video…the autopsy on the one they captured in ’47…from the crash…

God, its mind boggling you know? I was so stunned when he was telling me all of this and then showing me all of this…it took me forever to realize that the "Liz" that was involved was my Liz, that the café was The Crashdown.

It’s funny…it actually explains a lot about what happened between Liz and I.

My mom and I moved to Houston after freshman year, and all that summer we talked to each other at least two to three times a week…We’d talk for hours about the difference between living in Houston and living in Roswell, we made plans to visit each other, we talked about her and Kyle Valenti and how he held her hand in front of everybody and what exactly that meant…and then it was me calling her, it was me e-mailing her…and only me making the effort to stay in touch until finally we stopped talking altogether.

Those last few times I talked to her though…she seemed different, like something had happened to her that she couldn’t bring herself to tell me about. The same thing happened with Alex. One day I looked in my inbox and there were no more goofy forwards from him. I tried not to let it bother me…I tried not to be hurt. It had to happen sooner or later, right? Friends drift apart from each other - even best friends…but it was just too quick. May went by without any weirdness between us, then June, July, August…and then September came and it was "Uh…sorry Maria I’m really…I can’t talk right now…"

I made other friends of course…but it wasn’t the same. I don’t think I was ever as close with any of them as I had been with Liz and Alex. I mean I never cried in front of any of them, I never told them what my hopes and dreams were, I never stayed up all night and shared a gallon of sherbet ice cream watching old eighties movies to escape some heartache or another…

Liz and Alex were the only good things in Roswell. They were the only reason I ever considered that dry dusty town my home. They were the only reason I cried when I left.

And I haven’t spoken to either of them in years.

I wonder if they’re still here or if Liz is at Harvard becoming the great scientist she’s been planning on becoming since as long as I’ve known her. I wonder if Alex escaped the military…if he ever put that band together…if he ever found a girl who realizes how wonderful he is.

I pull into a parking space and get out of the car. I make my way towards the open double doors of the Crashdown, smiling a little because it hasn’t changed a bit. Elroy the life-size plastic alien that used to stand beside the door for picture taking tourists is still there, and he’s wearing a Santa’s hat.

I step inside and see them. Max. Liz. They’re sitting together at the counter. Their backs are to me but I just know it’s them. They’re talking to each other, their heads bowed. She holds his hand in hers, her thumb tracing little circles across his knuckles.

They’re together.

He’s brushing back a lock of her brown hair that’s longer than I remember. He’s smiling at her…And Liz…Liz is radiant. She’s in love - they both are. I can see it from here, I can feel it from here.

It can’t be true then…Max can’t be…

Thank God David’s wrong. He has to be…An alien can’t look like that at a human can it? It can’t look that happy and in love…

Yes, David is wrong and Liz found happiness with quiet Max Evans who has always been in love with her. I wonder how long they’ve been together…they look so comfortable together - the way their hands just fit. It’s beautiful.

I wish I’d been there to see it happen, to watch them find each other. I could’ve taken notes.

I’ll go back to the apartment and call David. I’ll tell him he’s wrong…

And then maybe I’ll stay here for a little while. Maybe I’ll stick around long enough to see if Liz and I can still be friends. Maybe I can have a little bit of the life I ran away from. Maybe I’ll even be happy… Maybe-

"Maria…? Maria Deluca!"

I blink. Liz is staring at me. She and Max are staring at me. Suddenly Liz is vaulting herself off the stool, her long dark hair flying behind her and now her arms are around me.

I hug her back just as hard. I’m crying.

"Hi Lizzie…"

"What…how… I can’t believe it’s you!" I laugh.

"Ditto Chica…it’s been too long…" Liz pulls back and nods.

"Much…I missed you…"

Then why’d you stop calling?

"I missed you too…"

Max comes up beside us. Liz touches his hand and says a little shyly, "You remember Max, right?"

I meet his eyes no longer afraid of mind melt-age or anything else of the sort. His eyes are still kind, still a warm brown. An alien can’t have eyes like that - at least not the kind of alien David told me about. No, this is Max. I smile remembering the time he had helped me study for one of those awful Bio tests from freshman year. He had ignored all my exclamations that I was an idiot when it came to science and had insisted that I could do anything if I would just believe in myself. I had gotten an A on that test. He had been the first person other than Liz who had ever told me anything like that…Not even my mother had believed…

"Of course I remember Max. Hi Max." He smiles at me.

"Hey Maria, welcome back…" Liz takes me by the arm and leads me to the counter where they had been sitting. There are two milkshakes there - both vanilla - or maybe Max’s had been strawberry - it looks a little pink.

Man, I’m hungry…

"So are you back for good? Are you staying in Roswell?"

"Ummm…" I absently pick up the half empty bottle of Tabasco Sauce from the counter and play with the corner of the label that’s coming off. "Well I have a place down the street…so I think I’ll be here for at least a couple of months…"

"Houston get too boring?" I bite my lip, trying not to cry as I remember the other reason why I’ve come back. Liz’s smile fades a little. She knows I’m upset and I can see her wondering if she has the right to ask me what’s wrong anymore. I decide to make it easy for her and lie.

"Oh totally boring…I mean I don’t know how I managed to survived without seeing one of these guys - " I nod at Elroy, "every five seconds…I missed them…I…missed you and Alex…" I blink feeling my eyes sting.

Goddammit when did I become such a wuss?

"How…how is Alex?" Liz’s eyes light up and she grins.

"He’s great he’s…He’s dating Isabel."

Woah…hold the phone…

"Isabel Evans?" I look at Max for confirmation and he just shrugs and scratches his head with a little smile. "Wow…That’s terrific…I mean he’s only been pining since what? Fourth grade?"

"At least since then…They went to Florida for Winter Break…"

"Mom’s not too thrilled…" Max chimes in, "She’s been wary of Alex ever since Izzy’s eighteenth birthday party where he did that striptease…"

I stare at him, then at Liz who’s trying not to laugh.

"You’re kidding me…"

"Nope…He was a policeman…a naughty policeman…"

"Oh. My. God." I giggle, trying to picture it, but I can’t. I look at the both of them standing there together, remembering that time and maybe a whole bunch of others I’ve missed, and I have to say I’m jealous. I kinda feel like Max and Isabel have taken my place… I clear my throat and smile, trying to force that disappointment away. What, had I expected everyone to just…stop living without me? How self-obsessed is that? "So…how long have you two been together…?" Liz blushes and Max smiles swinging her hand in his a little.

"Going on five…"

"Months?"

"Years…"

"Years? Wow…I don’t think I’ve had houseplants that have lasted that long…"

*~*~*

I ended up staying at the Crashdown with Max and Liz for over two hours. It was fun…more fun than I remember having in months. They were going to school together (Harvard - I knew it) and had an apartment together. He was studying medicine and she molecular biology. They were planning on getting married after graduation. Married. It’s really hard to believe what can happen in just a few years. I mean…they have a life together…And I…

I’m alone.

I’m 22 years old, single, no dog, no cat. I’m a college drop out. I don’t exactly have a job…

I sound like such a loser.

If everything hadn’t happened the way it had things would have been different…I might have stayed in school…I might have gone with Riley to California…I might have become a singer…I might have met someone and fallen in love.

I step out into the sunlight after waving goodbye to Max and Liz. I feel good about being here now though. Yeah I had missed a lot but…whatever. They didn’t seem to want to talk about the past six years too much and that’s fine with me. I don’t really need to know why Liz stopped keeping in touch. I’d rather not know about September. I’ve just got a bad feeling about it. David makes me paranoid.

Well not anymore.

I don’t believe for one second that Max Evans is an alien. If anything did happen in September six years ago I’m sure it was all some big misunderstanding. If it had been anything real David would have picked him up by now.

Still, telling him that I’m not willing to do this anymore is gonna piss him off, and he is most definitely going to pull the old after-everything-I’ve-done-for-you card…

Well, tough shit.

I’m not spying on Max. It would be like spying on Liz. I’m not doing it.

I dig around in my purse and find my crumpled pack of cigs from this morning and fish one out. I’m not really that big of a smoker. I just do it when I’m stressed or upset…So basically I’ve become an addict over the last year. But I’m gonna stop. I am. I’m home now…kinda…and if I stick around I won’t be alone anymore. Liz wants to have dinner with me tonight. We’re going to call Alex long distance and it’ll be just like old times. I won’t be alone anymore. I’ll get David off my back, get a job, pay him back for the apartment and everything else. It’ll be great. I won’t be stressed. I won’t be scared or lonely. I’ll make myself forget everything David’s ever shown me or told me about aliens.

I pause before lighting up, feeling weird all of a sudden, like someone’s watching me. I decide to ignore it. I’m just feeling paranoid because I’m thinking about David. It’s not like I’m gonna get mugged in broad daylight…besides there are tons of people out here…

I start to light up again and then decide against it. I don’t need these anymore. Besides mom hated smoking. I toss the pack into a garbage can and make my way back to my car.

The feeling that I’m being watched is still here, but I’m sure it will go away as soon as I contact David and tell him it’s over, that he’s wrong.

*~*~*

"Ooookay send…" I sign out of my account and shut down my laptop. Now all I have to do is wait until David calls and screams at me.

Ooooh fun.

I swing around on my swivel chair a few times. It’s dark in the room. There are no windows in the living room - that’s the only thing I don’t like about the place. I listen to the slow steady beat of the rain outside and decide that I want to watch it come down. I love the rain. I love the thunder and the lightening. It makes my blood race.

I pull on a light sweater and grab my keys. I take a deep breath of damp air as I open my door and go out onto the open-air walkway. It’s coming down so hard…sheets of it. I smile catching the mist on my face.

I go up to the railing and watch the rain bounce back up from the ground, dancing across the pavement like Mexican jumping beans. I laugh and tilt my face up to the sky, letting the rain slide down my neck and tangle in my hair. It reminds me of my first semester at college. I had gotten caught in a rainstorm and that’s when I had met Riley.

He had been standing under an awning - warm, dry, and our eyes had met from across the field and he had run out to me. He had taken off his raincoat and put it over my head. I was already soaked but…It was sweet. I’d never spoken to him before and he had run out in the rain for me. He asked me out that night and I ended up dating him until…well until I came back here.

It wasn’t exactly true what I had said before - about not really having any friends that really knew me…Riley knew me. And he still stuck around.

I want to call him, just to see how he’s doing. It wasn’t a bad break up - we’d been headed in that direction anyway. The passion just wasn’t there anymore. He’s still my friend. I’m not gonna pull a Liz and keep him hanging.

I have to stop dwelling on that. It’s so immature.

I turn back from the railing, pull my wet hair away from my face and start as I realize I’m not alone. There’s a guy there, slouching against the wall just a few feet away, watching me.

"God you scared me!" I gasp and he shrugs disinterestedly taking a drag from his cigarette. I watch the smoke curl out from between his lips…he has great lips…then look down at the astro-turfed floor as my mouth waters. Today is not the day to give up cigarettes. I want to breathe in the smoke straight from his mouth. I notice that the door behind him is propped open with a boot. I look at the number. 2A. So this is my jerky neighbor.

You play your music too loud jerky neighbor.

I look up at him, finally meeting his eyes…

…

Umm…wow…

He squints at me, still not saying anything. The light from the streetlight baths his face in a warm glow, highlighting the slope of his cheekbones, his nose. I think he has brown eyes…dark eyes.

I know I’m staring. I can’t help it. It’s not everyday you find a god on your front porch…

And unfortunately it has to speak.

"You’re nuts."

"Excuse me?"

"Nuts. Crazy. Loco. Pick one."

I know this voice. I used to dream about this voice whispering my name… I used to dream about that spiky hair he’s running a hand through…and those hands…

Michael Guerin.

Holy shit.

He rolls his eyes and smirks.

Michael Friggin’ Guerin is my neighbor - proof that there is a God. And a Devil.

"Do you want to catch pneumonia?" My eyes narrow as I remember why I had hated him in Junior High, and then he raises an eyebrow and I remember why I had been so attracted to him.

"Yes. I want to catch pneumonia." I say sarcastically and turn on my heel, almost slipping on the turf to go back to my room and blast some Sarah McLachlan just to pay him back for this morning, then stop.

I don’t think he remembers me.

Why doesn’t he remember me?

He ignored me all through Junior High and that one year at West Roswell - and it wasn’t like he ignored me like he just didn’t notice me - he purposely ignored me, ignored me. It used to drive me insane when I’d wait on him and Max at the Crashdown. I can’t tell you how many times I thought about dumping his damn cherry coke all over that spiky head of his.

I used to think maybe he liked me…sometimes I thought he was watching me, but whenever I’d look up he’d look away. And if I kept staring he’d just glare at me until I stopped. I don’t think I’ve ever really heard him say anything more than, "Get outta my way Deluca", "Nice hair Deluca" - like he could talk… and "Cherry Coke Deluca." He probably doesn’t even know my first name. And it makes me mad. I thought I’d managed to forget about him and in a matter of six and a half minutes he’s made me feel that way again - like my stomach’s dropped out of my body and my heart’s doing 100 mph on a treadmill. And he’s still a jerk.

"You don’t remember me do you?" I ask turning back to him, my hands on my hips in an incredibly pissy pose I thought I’d grown out of.

He takes another puff, and I see a flash of teeth as he exhales. His eyes travel down my body and back up again and I tell my heart to knock it off - God he’s not that hot…

Okay so that’s a lie.

"Maybe."

"Maybe."

"Yeah - you look kinda familiar…"

I shake my head in disgust and go back to my door mumbling some embarrassingly juvenile comment about light sockets and his fingers when his voice stops me.

"Okay now I remember."

I step inside my apartment and slam the door. I’m moving. I have to do. I swear to God I’ll kill him if I don’t…

Well David is FBI…maybe I can get away with it…

I want a fucking cigarette.

I threw all mine away.

"Dammit!" I kick at my couch and stalk back towards the door. I open it and he’s standing there with a fresh one in hand.

"How do you know I want it?" I growl.

"Cuz you were staring at me like you wanted to jump me for it. Just take it and shut up - I don’t want to have to listen to you pounding on your furniture all afternoon cuz you need a nicotine fix."

"I gave them up." I say and snatch it from him. "Lighter." He blinks at me as I hold out my hand.

"I don’t have one."

"Then how’d you light yours?"

He blinks at me again, then says after a slight pause, "I had a match."

I grab his out of his mouth and hold it to the end of mine then hand it back to him and shut my door behind me. I don’t need for my apartment to smell like smoke. I’ll never give it up if it does. When Riley had tried to quit he used to steal my empty packs and just smell them. I don’t want to get that desperate.

I step out onto the balcony again and notice an empty coffee canister by his door. It’s full of butts.

"I thought I was bad…"

He flicks his cigarette over the railing and mumbles something that sounds like, "Can’t drink…" and shrugs.

"Later Deluca." He doesn’t even look at me. He pushes open the door to his apartment and slips inside before I can see what it looks like, and now I’m alone.

I put mine out in the canister and go back to my own apartment, shivering a little with the cold...and something else that makes me feel a little warmer.

As soon as I close my door, he turns on the Metallica.

Loud.

*~*~*

I flop down on my bed and stare up at the cracks in my ceiling.

You don’t remember me do you?

Of course I remember her. I remember everything about her. I remember her eyes even though I’ve never really looked into them long enough to count all the different shades of blue and green and gold that are there. I remember the way she’d shove her hair behind her ears and adjust that stupid antennae thing she had to wear when she worked at the Crashdown. The way she had to prep herself when we sat in her section. I remember her lips pressed tightly together when she asked me what she ever did to me and I didn’t answer.

I wish I could say nothing. I wish I could say she never did a thing to me but that would be a lie.

She made me forget to breathe.

I was attracted to her…God help me she was all I thought about - her body, the scent of her hair as she leaned across the table to give Max an extra napkin and me a puzzled look, her lips…

I used to lay awake at night in that stinking trailer and think about what they would feel like, what she would feel like.

I still remember the day I realized I was in trouble. It was at the Crashdown…Jesus everything always happens at the Crashdown…you think we’d learn…

She had been in the back room, Max and I were in our usual booth - he was trying to work up the nerve to look Liz in the eye and I was just waiting for Maria to come back out so I could look at her some more.

I don’t even know what happened - she must have cut herself on a knife or something. She came walking out from the back with her hand in a towel that was already full of blood…her blood and they had rushed her to the emergency room. Her face had been so white, she had looked so scared. My only thought had been if I knew how I would do it. I would heal you. I would risk everything.

The day she left was the happiest day of my life. I was out of danger. I was able to focus with her gone.

I didn’t miss her. How could I when I never had her in the first place?

I made myself not miss her.

Seeing her again this afternoon was like a sucker punch to the gut.

I’m happy…When was the last time I was happy…? I don’t remember.

She’s still beautiful…but she’s sad now, and there’s a hardness that wasn’t there before. I want to ask her what happened but I can’t. I have no right. I had no right to dream about her when I was fifteen, sixteen…seventeen, eighteen, nineteen…I had no right to stand there in the alley of the Crashdown this afternoon and watch her fumble with a cigarette and then toss them all away.

I learned to smoke this afternoon. I practiced until I was sick. I did it so I would have an excuse to talk to her.

Stupid…

I really don’t understand that particular human habit…or drinking…I never understood that either. I never understood the idea of hiding your pain from yourself. Hiding it from other people - fine but…I don’t know maybe it’s a human thing. Like normalcy is a human thing. Like love is a human thing.

I stood out there in the friggin cold for over an hour waiting for her to come out. I knew she would.

I also remember that she likes the rain.

I stood there for forever watching that rain slide down her throat, soak her skin her hair. And I puffed away on that stick of tar waiting for her to turn around and ask me if she could have one.

She said she quit.

If I ever throw that one back at her she’ll put her hands on her hips, toss back that blond hair and sneer at me, "Maria Deluca is not a quitter!"

I could tell her that the sky was blue and she’d disagree.

I smile at the space over my head on the wall as she turns her own stereo up as loud as it can go.

*~*~*

I can hear her alarm go off through the wall. It wakes me up. I listen for her and I hear the shower running.

I hear her humming "Enter Sandman" and I smile. I win.

I gloat over this for a few minutes and try to ignore the change in the sound of the water as she steps underneath it.

I’m totally imagining all this. My ears aren’t that good. I did hear the alarm though.

And I can hear her crying.

I don’t know how I can but I can. I can hear her quick breathed sobs. The sound of them louder than the shhhh of the shower…

Or maybe I’m imagining that too.

But if she is upset…sad like I thought she was standing out there yesterday in front of the Crashdown looking so lost and found at the same time…why would she come back here to feel better?

What is she doing in Roswell? No one comes back here once they get away…it just doesn’t happen.

I feel the cold knot of suspicion twist in my gut - the one that has lessened considerably in these last few years since Valenti’s decided to leave us alone, since the FBI’s lost it’s interest in Max…

But…what if it hasn’t?

Maybe they haven’t given up…maybe all this time it’s been so quiet they’ve just been lulling us into a false sense of security, hoping we’d slip up…hoping we’d accidentally let one of them in…

Maria would be perfect for that…no one would suspect her…Alex would want to tell her, Liz would want to tell her. She’d get Max to let her in and Alex would work on Isabel…They would say that we can all trust her. But how would they know? A lot can happen in six years. Besides she left before all that shit went down - she was long gone by the time Max healed Liz and Valenti chased us all through sophomore year.

Who Max, Isabel and I are has nothing to do with her, there’s no reason we should have to tell her. But if she becomes friends with Liz and Alex again…they won’t want to lie to her, they won’t want to keep her in the dark about the people who are now so close to them…

Chances are she’s seen Liz already, maybe Max too. At least Alex and Izzy are away for the next two weeks.

I have to talk to them. Max and Liz.

I have to make sure they aren’t going to tell her anything…

I don’t know, maybe I’m not giving them enough credit. Maybe they realize the danger, maybe my paranoia has rubbed off on them after all these years…stranger things have happened - I’m a perfect example of that.

I’ll check her out though...just in case. I’ll find out what she’s doing here and if she’s safe…

I still won’t want to tell her. I don’t want her to know about me…what I am…

She already hates me - I don’t want her to be scared of me too.

I hear the phone ring from her room - very faint - that’s how I knew it’s real - I can barely hear it. I press my ear against the wall. I listen to the shower being turned off. One ring, two rings, three…four…And they stop.

I hear a muffled hello, and then a long pause. I hear her raise her voice, arguing and then she’s cut off.

I pull away from the wall and stare at it. I concentrate until the particles stretch themselves out and there’s a circle on the wall that’s thinner than the rest of it. It’s not noticeable, but if I slam my fist through it my hand will open up in her bedroom. I sit here and listen.

"Don’t be such an asshole David…You’re paranoid…No I don’t believe…You didn’t *see* him…No…Today for a few hours…Look you can’t keep holding that over my head! I didn’t want you to in the first place!…What…No I-…"

I can almost see her pacing, I can almost see the phone clenched tightly in her hand, her damp hair dripping into her eyes that are still wet with tears.

She’s silent for a long time and when she finally speaks, her voice is resigned and tired.

"Fine…fine…One month…no more than that. After that you leave me alone all right? I’ll pay you back for everything and then I never want to hear from you again…I won’t! God do you think I’m an idiot?…I will…Yeah well I’m not "happy" with you either."

She slams down the phone and I think she’s standing there staring down at it. I hear her walk away, the bathroom door shut, then the shower sounds again.

Who’s David?

Something flares up inside of me and I refuse to call it jealousy. She’s obviously mad at the guy.

The rest of the conversation was strange though. She sounded tense, angry. Scared. He was trying to get her to do something, or give him something.

Maybe that’s why she came here - to get away from him.

She finishes her shower and as soon as she turns off the water the phone rings again.

"What?!…Oh…" she laughs breathlessly "Sorry Liz…damn telecom people calling me all morning…Of course I still want to…sounds good…Senor Chows in an hour…Me too…Hey speaking of annoying people - guess who my neighbor is…" I wince at the tone of her voice and quickly fix the wall.

Whatever she has to say about me I most definitely do not want to hear it.

I have an hour to get to Max. An hour to get him to make sure Liz won’t let anything slip to Maria on their "lunch date".

*~*~*

"So you don’t trust Maria…am I supposed to be surprised?" I hate when he looks at me like this, up from under his raised eyebrows. It makes me feel like an idiot. It pisses me off.

"Do you?" I glare at him and cross my arms in front of my chest. I don’t know why I even bother. I should just let him get caught someday - that would teach him. Maybe then he’d finally wipe that Michael’s-such-a-paranoid-loser look off his face.

I’ve been right most of the time - okay so Agnes was a mistake but…c’mon the woman has "enemy" written all over her sour little face… But I was right about Tolpolsky (well okay Alex and Liz did that one, but I suspected her from the beginning), I was right about Sanders, about him working with Valenti…that guy was an asshole…both of them were…

"Michael you can’t accuse people of being out to get us just because you don’t like them." I blink at him. Is he really not the least bit suspicious?

"You don’t think it’s weird that she’s just all of a sudden back in Roswell? No one in their right mind ever comes back here once they’ve gotten away."

"You did."

"Marathon doesn’t count, Maxwell." I stare at the floor, cuz if I have to look at that look on his face a minute longer I’ll deck him. There’s a bra lying on the floor, half under the bed. I smirk and raise an eyebrow at him as he notices it too and kicks it out of sight. "Look all I’m asking is that you and Liz be careful…don’t…don’t say anything to her about…you know…"

Max’s eyes narrow. "Of course I won’t Michael, I never intended to."

"Yeah but what about Liz?"

"Liz would never tell anyone our secret. You know that…"

"Just…could you go with them? Out to lunch? I don’t think Liz should be alone with her…"

"Michael-"

"Jut do that okay, and I’ll take care of the rest. I’ll find out why she’s here."

"You’re not going to break into her apartment!" I glare at him.

"Of course not - she just moved in - there probably isn’t anything incriminating in there yet." I swear sometimes Max isn’t as smart as he likes to think he is.

"Michael…Could you please just relax about this? Liz is really happy she’s back, I don’t want you to ruin it for her…"

"You being dissected would upset her more, don’t you think?"

"Michael, Maria is not FBI" He shrugs into a sweater and leans over to tie up his shoe. "But if it makes you feel better I was going to go with them anyway. Liz said Maria invited me too." I frown at him.

"Why would she invite you? She didn’t know you in high school." Max gives me another look and I run my hands through my hair so I won’t reach out and strangle him.

"It’s because I’m an important part of Liz’s life Michael, and she just wants to get to know me."

I shrug, grumbling an "Okay, fine" because that does sound plausible…

Still…I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t stressed about all of this. I think he knows that. He stands and drops a hand on my shoulder.

"I promise we will "be careful". Just make sure you follow your own advice." He gives me a pointed look and leaves me alone in his room staring after him.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" I call after him but he doesn’t answer.

*~*~*

I go to the rock.

I always think clearer here. There’s nothin’ around to distract me. It’s just me, the desert and the sky. I can breathe here and I’m not so confused, not so wound up. I feel free and alive when I’m in the desert…and not so much like a caged animal.

I used to come here a lot when things were bad with Hank and I couldn’t handle having Max feel sorry for me, couldn’t handle him knowing that I was weak, that I was scared of a human.

I’d hitch out here, crawl up onto this rock and just talk all night to the stars, to my parents. I’d tell them about my life, how much it sucked.

I’d talk about Hank. How much I hated him. I’d talk about Max and how jealous and proud I was of him. I’d talk about Izzy and how much I loved her for her annoying mothering. I even told them about Maria once.

I can’t remember what I said, but I do remember that I didn’t go near the Crashdown for a week afterwards.

I’m probably wrong about her, why she’s here. I can’t picture Deluca in the FBI. Still, I’d feel better if I knew for sure she wasn’t a threat.

And when I find out she isn’t then what? Then will I actually talk to her? Actually call her by her first name?

I kept away before because I wanted to hate being here in Roswell, on Earth, and because I knew she was probably the only thing that would make it all bearable, make it all worthwhile. I kept away because when the time came for me to choose…I didn’t want to miss anything here, I didn’t want to miss anyone. I didn’t want to doubt where my home was. I didn’t want all my years of wishing to be for nothing even though some of those wishes were about her.

Things are different now though. We’re never going home…

But does that really change anything? I’m still me. I’m still an alien. I’m still afraid that if I touch her she’ll break in my hands because I know I’ll hold her too tight, I’ll care about her too much.

Max would ask me what’s wrong with that, with caring. He’d ask me why I’m so scared to let someone in, why I’m so scared to love someone and I don’t know what I’d have for an answer except for the fact that I don’t know how.

Maybe he’d understand me if he had gotten stuck with Hank. Maybe I’d understand him if I had been the one adopted by the Evans’s.

It doesn’t matter now. It’s over. Hank’s gone and I’m free.

Now the only thing that traps me is the fear that one day we’ll be caught. And it doesn’t matter how quiet things get, how safe we start to feel. It will always be there.

I set up my easel on the edge of the rock and spread out my paints and brushes. It’s kind of funny - I can pull the colors out of the air and just make them appear on the paper if I want to but for some reason I don’t get visions when I do that. I guess it’s because I’m concentrating too hard and nothing else can get in.

There’s something about having the brush in my hand though, something about the way the paint just glides across the canvas. I prefer doing it this way - painting. The other way kinda feels like cheating. And doing it this way is more exciting - when I get into that groove where I just turn off my mind and go with it…I never know what I’m going to come up with.

I’m hoping this time I’ll come up with an answer. That’s how I found out about Sanders. I’d been doodling on a napkin while Max lectured me about impulsiveness and how in the end it doesn’t help anyone and we all suffer for it blah blah blah when I blinked and realized I had drawn a caricature of the new cook at the Crashdown with a badge emblazoned on his chef’s hat and a gun in his hand.

I hope that doesn’t happen this time. I hope I don’t end up with a painting of Maria doing an impression of Agent Scully…

*~*~*

What the hell…

I’ve painted Maria like I had a feeling I would but…it’s Maria dressed in a Crashdown uniform. It’s Maria with a bloody towel wrapped around her hand. It’s Maria from that day seven years ago where she had sliced open her hand and stumbled out from the back room on the verge of passing out.

I fucking hate it when my visions decide to be metaphorical.

I don’t know what the hell this means.

I hear a noise behind me and quickly wave my hand over the canvas. The colors I used swirl into a painting of the desert before me - a desert with pink/gold sand and a teal/green sky holding up a silver moon and a blood red sun…

I know it’s her before I turn around. I can feel her behind me, her gaze touching me like fingers of fire stroking my back. I swallow, trying to keep myself under control, and glance down at my watch thinking maybe she and Liz and Max hadn’t gone out after all but then I realize I’ve been out here for three hours.

What the hell was she doing here?

"What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like Deluca?"

I don’t turn around. I don’t want to see her because I know she’ll be beautiful. I know the sun that’s already begun to fall from the sky will paint her features in a soft glow that will steal the hardness from her eyes and make it easier to pretend that she doesn’t hate me.

So I drag my brush against the canvas, deepening the green sky that used to be her eyes, and I try not to jump, try not to feel as she comes up behind me and looks over my shoulder at what I am doing. I feel her breath slide across my bare skin and I close my eyes.

She’s silent, and so near I can feel the heat of her body against my back. I open my eyes and sneak a look at her.

She is staring at my painting of the desert that used to be of her. Her eyes are wide, her lips parted, and I was right about the light from the dying sun on her face. She looks amazed at me. It gives me a little thrill, it runs through my body. I want her to touch me.

She turns her head slightly to look at me and I meet her eyes for one brief perfect moment before looking at the ground, at the dusty rock beneath my feet. She doesn’t look away.

It’s like it always is - I seek her out, I ask for her gaze and she gives it. I ignore it and she keeps offering it until I can’t stand it anymore and I stare back at her. I throw it in her face with a glare. I do it again because it’s what she expects, and she steps away from me. Her arm brushes my arm as she does so and I almost drop my brush.

She sits down on the rock, my rock, and squints off into the desert, follows the path of the blood red sun with her sky green eyes.

"I didn’t know you paint…"

"There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me." I swallow and rinse my brush off in a cup of water.

"I know you play your music too friggin’ loud…I just don’t know if you do it because you want to piss me off or if you want to be deaf before you’re thirty…"

I toss the dirty water out into the air, watch the dark arc end in a muffled splash that seems too loud. "Take your pick." She’s quiet for a moment, and I kneel down quickly packing up my paints and brushes, and tossing them into a duffel bag. I can’t be here like this with her…alone in the only place I’ve ever felt free in, the only place I’ve felt like myself in. I can’t be here with her. It’s too dangerous.

I’m about to zip up my bag and leave her when she speaks again.

"Why were you so mean to me? Why are you still so mean to me?"

I pause to look at her and wish I hadn’t. She’s lying on her back propped up on her elbows, looking at me…and her eyes…they aren’t angry. They’re hurt.

Because I liked you. Because I wanted you.

Because I still do.

I want to go. I want to leave this place, my place that she used to haunt with her memory and now does with her body. I don’t want to look at her laying where I laid, looking up at my sky, my stars, looking up at me, but I do anyway.

She’s wearing a thin white button down top. The top two buttons are undone and so are the bottom two. I look at her neck, at the curve of her breast. I look at her stomach, at the pale smooth skin there. Her belly button is pierced. A simple hoop with a tiny star pendant hanging from it. It’s sexy…

But the Maria Deluca I know never would have gotten anything pierced but her ears.

"You’ve changed…" I say it before I can stop myself and her eyes seem to shine for a moment, but I tell myself that I’ve imagined it. Maria Deluca would never allow herself to cry in front of anyone, least of all me… Still her voice quivers just a little when she says, "How would you know?"

*~*~*

I came to the rock because I wanted to be alone to think.

I wanted to avoid my answering machine (which I know will have an angry message from David on it). I wanted to try and decide what I would tell him.

Lunch had been normal. Max had been normal - except for his obsession with Tabasco Sauce which I thought had been Michael’s but…it seems I’m wrong about Michael a lot so…

Whatever.

It was nice. They are a beautiful couple. A happy couple. They make me sick.

I’m joking.

Mostly.

The only weird thing was when I brought up September. I didn’t want to do it, but I had made a deal with David, and whatever had happened in September was what had attracted him to Max in the first place. Whatever happened made him think he was an alien.

We were sitting there waiting for the check when I just asked her point blank why she had stopped calling me.

She told me about the shooting. She told me Max had saved her life.

According to the Roswell Police Department’s report David had shown me, Max had fled the scene. How does that make him a "savior"?

"You were hurt?!" I asked.

"No…no." she had said quickly, her hand finding Max’s under the table. " I was just…freaked out for a while and Max…Max helped me get through it…"

It wasn’t really anything they said that sounded suspicious…it was just…Liz’s body language changed. She tensed. And Max held her hand a little tighter than necessary.

But that was it. I don’t even know if it’s worth mentioning.

But I have to give David something.

I just didn’t want to talk to him yet, I didn’t want to go home and have to call him.

Most of all I didn’t want to run into Michael.

I wanted to talk to Liz about him first, and I couldn’t do that with Max there. They were friends. I remembered that from junior high. I always thought it was funny how close they were even though they were so different from each other - it kind of reminded me of Liz and I.

I wanted to ask her what he’s been up to, why he’s still in Roswell. Especially since he’s the only other person I can think of who wanted to get away from this town just as much as I did.

He’d never said anything about it, but I knew. It was the way he’d look at the tourists - something between disgust for why they were there and envy because they could leave and go home whenever they wanted. I looked at them the same way.

If David knew that I was more concerned over Michael Guerin than Max Evans he would not be pleased…

I think I knew he was there before I even stepped out of my car. The air didn’t feel the same. It felt charged. I climbed the rock and followed the path around to the other side, and stopped.

He was standing there with his back to me, the sun outlining his body in red fire…he was naked from the waist up, his black shirt tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fucking fair.

"What are you doing here?" In my place and half-naked when that is the last thing I need to be thinking about…

He was painting.

It was beautiful. I stepped up behind him because I wanted to have an excuse to be near him, maybe to touch him. He had paint smeared across his arms, his chest. I felt my knees start to shake as his eyes touched my face.

I looked at him, thinking maybe this time it would be different, maybe this time he wouldn’t look away. But he did. And I stepped away from him. I left him alone. But I couldn’t stop myself from asking…I had to know why…

And he didn’t answer me.

But he looked at me…really looked at me for the first time and I felt myself burning up under his gaze as it enveloped my body. So much heat, none of it from the dying sun. It left me breathless, left me trembling.

And then he told me I was different - as if I didn’t already know that, as if he had a right to remind me…as if he was sad of it because I was.

He left. He hefted his easel up under one shoulder, and the canvas under the other with his bag slung over his shoulder, his shirt swaying from his back pocket as he stepped around me. I asked him if he needed a ride and he said no. I knew he didn’t have a car. There hadn’t been one down there. I asked him if was going to hitch and he mumbled a yes.

I told him to have fun.

It burns me. His refusal to let me help him in any way burns me…and not in the good way that his looking at me had just a moment before.

I lay back down on the rock, listening to him go, my fingers absently playing with the hoop on my belly button.

You’ve changed.

There was a time when I never would have considered doing anything like piercing my belly button or any other part of my body.

But then I met Riley.

And then I had a fight with my mother that made me want to do everything I could to piss her off, to prove to her that I could do anything I wanted…even if it was something I didn’t want.

Like a hole in my navel.

It hurt like shit but I was glad. I deserved the pain for being such a bitch to her especially when…

I blink back the tears and hold my hands to my face trying to stop them and then stop. No one is here. I can cry. It’s okay. I can cry…

*~*~*

"Fuck off David" I hang up on him and leave the apartment before he can call me back.

Apparently he wasn’t satisfied with my report.

What does he want me to do? Make stuff up?

Yes David, actually while we were waiting for our waitress to refill the chip basket, Max’s body split in half a la Zeus’s head and out stepped a little green Athena…

If Max was an alien does David really think he’s going to be obvious about it?

God he should have saved all the money he used to buy me an apartment and gotten a clue instead.

I lock up my door and stand there for a moment looking at Michael’s. I can hear him moving around inside.

I turn around quickly as I hear the lock click open, and my foot catches on an edge of astro turf sticking up.

I let out a terrified shriek as I start to fall down the steps and suddenly warm fingers are wrapping themselves around my wrist catching me, pulling me up.

The fist time I ever had any contact whatsoever with Michael Guerin was in sixth grade. We were coming down the hall in opposite directions, neither of us paying attention, and had literally run into each other. Body against body, the force of it sending me flying back because he was so much bigger than I was and he had caught me - lightening quick he had reached out and caught me by the shoulders. Our eyes met and something happened. I don’t even know what it was, but suddenly my whole body had felt like it was on fire. He had blinked at me, confusion and shock flickering across his face and then…

And then he dropped me.

I fell to the ground with an undignified "oof" and he mumbled a "sorry" and ran away.

He doesn’t let go of me this time.

I fall against his chest, and feel his heart under my cheek pounding just as fiercely as mine is.

"Grace." He murmurs.

I push off of him, and stalk shakily down the steps. I could have broken my neck…and he’s making fun of me for being clumsy…

I ignore him as he follows me down the stairs and get into my car. I take a few deep breaths to calm down and jump when he taps on my window. I roll it down and glare at him.

"What?"

"You didn’t say thank you."

"Thank you." I say and start to roll up my window.

"Where are you going?"

I stare at him. Oh now he wants a ride.

"The Crashdown…I’m meeting Liz." I sigh. He did just save my life. "Get in Guerin."

*~*~*

"Where are you going?"

"Crashdown."

"Meeting Max?"

He glances at me then quickly looks back out the window.

"No. Work." I frown at him.

"You work at the Crashdown?"

"Yes." He says tightly.

"What do you do?"

"Cook."

"Really? I thought you were an artist…"

"I’m not an artist." He squirms uncomfortably in the passenger seat. "I just paint sometimes…Besides…" he smirks, "When was the last time you saw an artist who was just that and nothing else?"

I smile thinking of Riley coming to band practice covered in grease from Ed’s Garage.

"I guess you have a point…" I murmur, pulling into a parking space. As soon as I stop he practically vaults from the car.

I shout, "You’re welcome" after him and he holds up his hand in a half wave, not looking back, and disappears through the double doors.

Yeah - quick, run before we have an actual conversation…

*~*~*

"So I gave the demon-spawn a ride here…" I announce as I flop down on Liz’s bed. Her room looks the same. It’s comforting. I can forget the last six years ever happened. I feel sixteen again. Liz makes it easy.

She laughs and plops down next to me.

"You two were ridiculous, you know that right?"

"Watchutalkin’boutWillis?"

She smirks and picks up a teddy bear balancing it on her tummy.

"You know what I’m talking about…"

I prop myself up on my elbow and stare down at her.

"What?" She raises her eyebrows at the bear and purses her lips.

"You two freshmen year…"

"What about us? Wait, there was no "us" - did he think there was an "us"? I know you hang out with him now because of Max, Lizzie…" I take the teddy bear and thwap her with it, "Did he ever say anything to you about me?"

She doesn’t answer and I thwap her again. She giggles and holds up her arms trying to fend me off. "It was never anything he said…it wasn’t anything you said either…"

I lay back down on the bed and stare up at her ceiling feeling my face flush.

"That was a long time ago…" I murmur. "How did you know anyway? I never said anything to you about liking Michael…"

"Ah ha! So you did!"

"Yeah I guess so…" I grumble into my elbow as I hide my face in it, embarrassed that I had never told her - like it was a big secret or something.

"Why didn’t you tell me?"

"Because it was so dumb…it didn’t make any sense…He was always so mean to me…But I couldn’t help it - every time I looked at him I just wanted to *jump* on him…but at the same time I hated him…"

"Hate’s a strong word…a passionate word…" she teases and I roll my eyes at her.

"He’s the same sullen buttmunch he always was…" I sigh, "Why do I always want the bad boys?"

"Do you want Michael?"

Silence.

"He paints did you know that?" I ask her abruptly and she smiles.

"He cooks a mean Will Smith Burger too…"

"I don’t like him." I say and she shrugs taking back the bear and swinging it by its arm. "I don’t…I think he’s beautiful…that doesn’t mean I like him."

"Sure thing Maria…"

"Lizzie this isn’t high school…I don’t have some crush on him left over from freshman year…I’ve moved beyond Tall Dark and Spiky…I hadn’t thought about him at all until yesterday when he almost gave me a heart attack..." I look at her. She doesn’t believe me.

And why should she? I’m totally lying…

I’ve thought about him a loooot…

Let’s just say the first time Riley and I had sex it wasn’t Riley’s name I called out.

Riley.

"I have a boyfriend…" I lie so I can get her to believe I haven’t been pining over Michael, Jerk-Boy-Extrordinaire, for the last six years cuz it’s just too pathetic, and Liz grins.

"Really?"

"No." I sigh and then laugh. Like I’m really gonna lie about it - she knows anyway. No matter what I say she knows. "We broke up…"

Partly because of Michael…isn’t that funny? He told me to call him once I got "Michael" out of my system. And then he had called me an hour later and asked if he was gone yet. I smile. I love Riley, I always will. But it would never have worked. When you’d rather hang out and talk about music than make out, something’s up. He kinda became my Alex. I think he had been starting to feel the same way about me. He called me Jules once. Jules is his sister’s name.

"How long were you two together?"

"Umm on and off for a long time…" I shrug, and am quiet for a moment before admitting, "I miss kissing…"

"Yeah…" Liz murmurs dreamily. "Kissing’s good…"

"I can’t believe you and Max…it’s so perfect. You two are perfect for each other…" I smile at her and she closes her eyes contentedly hugging the bear. I don’t have to ask where she got it from. "I’m jealous." I whisper, only half kidding. "Hey Lizzie?"

"Yeah ‘Ria?"

"Can I be you when I grow up?"

"Only if I can be you…"

I close my eyes. You wouldn’t like it…

We lay there together in the quiet darkness of her room, listening to the sounds from the Crashdown below. People laughing, talking…the scrape of pans from the kitchen and the sizzle of the grill floating in from the open window.

"Maria are you happy?"

"Sometimes."

"Did you…find what you were looking for in Houston?"

"Not exactly…" I whisper.

"Do you think you’ll find it here?"

"I don’t know…"

"I hope so ‘Ria…"

"Me too Lizzie…"

*~*~*

The phone rings.

Once, twice.

I ignore it. It’s David. It’s always David. Except when it’s Liz - but her rings are softer - not so insistent.

I tug at the end of my skirt. It’s short. Reeeaaaally short.

So what? I’m young, single. I have a decent body - why not show it off a little?

Yeah like I’m really that confident.

I stand in front of the mirror and adjust my halter-top so I don’t feel like I’m about to fall out of it.

Blue sequins. I never thought I’d actually be wearing this thing out in public - and in Roswell no less…

But Liz had said "wild"…

I smile to myself as I lace up my boots. Max and Liz are taking me some place "wild".

We’re going dancing.

I haven’t been clubbing since…

Well, not for a long time.

The phone rings again.

David leave me alone…

"Hello…"

"Maria…I didn’t get your report."

"Maybe because I had nothing to report…"

"Little girl you listen to me-"

"No David you listen to me! You said to observe, and that is what I am doing. I’m trying to get in alright? I’m trying to get them to trust me - that takes time. I’m going out with them tonight…"

"Where?"

"I don’t know somewhere fun - you remember fun don’t you David?"

"I expect a report tomorrow."

"You’ll have one David, but to be perfectly honest I think I’d do a better job on this "project" if you weren’t harassing me all the time."

"I’m just trying to keep you on track darlin’. You know how important this is - I’m not the only one who’s going to be upset if you can’t get us what we need…"

"Is that a threat?"

"Darlin’ have I ever threatened you?"

I’m quiet, and I can hear his soft chuckle on the other end of the line.

"I have to go - I’m gonna be late…"

"Go right ahead Maria, have your fun, but don’t forget why you’re here."

How can I with you always reminding me?

"I won’t David. Bye."

So fucking patronizing…"little girl" my ass…

He didn’t think I was so little a month ago.

I take a deep breath and turn back to the mirror, shakily applying a coat of lip-gloss to my mouth.

He kissed me. David did.

I don’t know if he was trying to seduce me into this, or if he was just trying to make me feel better, just trying to offer me some comfort after my little melt down. I don’t know why he did it…I don’t know why I let him.

Yes I do.

Because I was sad. And he made me believe he was sad too.

He hasn’t mentioned my mother once since that day.

I don’t know if I ever believed he was in love with her. He never gave any indication that he wanted to marry her, become a husband, a father. Like I could have taken him seriously as my father anyway. He’s only what, ten years older than me?

I rarely saw them together since I lived at the dorms that first year, and when I moved back home I rarely saw him at all. He’d stop by for a quick screw whenever he was in town and that’s all I’d see (and hear) of him. He was always nice to me though, in those brief moments where he’d pass by my door on his way to hers and say hello, how is school going, etc, etc.

I’d always felt weird talking to him and not just because he was my mom’s latest. It’s strange having an FBI agent in your house. I kept expecting him to bust me for something. You’d think I’d have been used to it. My mom always had a thing for cops.

When things got rough though he was around more - I’ll give him that, he didn’t hightail it out of our lives. He helped her. He helped me. We got to know each other a little better. We even hung out a few times just the two of us when mom didn’t feel like going out. I don’t know if I ever would have considered him my father, or anything close to it, but I had thought of him as a friend.

And he comforted me like a friend when I cried…a friend who kisses your tears away.

Nothing happened. It was just a kiss. David was never awkward about it and so neither was I. He had just been trying to ease the hurt a little by letting me cling to him, letting me kiss him back.

But he had initiated it. I wonder now if he had been trying to seduce me all along into agreeing to help him. I started to wonder why he stuck around through all that shit, all those bills when he didn’t love her. Had he been trying to get to me?

Had he been trying to get to me because I had a friend named Liz Parker, and she had a boyfriend named Max Evans?

A month ago I wouldn’t have believed it but now…after everything…

David wasn’t David anymore. He was Agent Pierce. Calling him David was a joke. He wasn’t my friend. He probably never had been.

And I’d fallen into this because I thought I needed him. He made me believe that I depended on him, that I owed him. Well I know the truth now. I know his game and the only way I can get out of it is to give him what he wants - information on Max Evans.

I’m not afraid to do this. No one will be hurt because there’s nothing dangerous about Max. Nothing unnatural, nothing alien. Any reports I send Agent Pierce will be those of a normal 22-year-old male living life without the heavy burden of regret on his back wearing him down.

That’s how I’ll win against David. I’ll give him the truth.

*~*~*

I’ve been drunk once in my life. It was on a rainy Thursday night, sophomore year. I was hungry and there hadn’t been anything but beer in the fridge. I knew what would happen to me if I drank some, but I did it anyway. I was curious as to what the appeal was…I wanted to know what was so great about it that Hank would live his life for it…I wanted to know if it really did do it - if it really did take away the world, take away the hurt.

Hank was a bastard when he was drunk, but Liz had said Max was…nice. He was free to be who he was inside. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know if I would be like Max or Hank - if I would smash things or walk to Houston and find Deluca. I was curious. And I wanted to know. I wanted to know once and for all if I was good or bad.

So I drank. Not much, just a sip, and…

And I don’t remember.

I came to in Liz’s bedroom, asleep on her floor, with an afghan draped over me. It took me a second to realize where I was. I lifted my head, my vision still a little fuzzy, and I saw Liz on her bed flipping though a Science Journal. She didn’t even look at me, but handed me a glass of orange juice.

I was so scared I couldn’t even ask her what happened. Thank God I hadn’t woken up in her bed. I think I would have flung myself off her balcony.

She had smiled at me as I nervously gulped down the juice, and told me to relax. She told me that we had talked all night.

She told me we had talked about Maria. Rather, I had talked and she had listened.

I had told her everything.

I did vault off the balcony then, and I ran home. I didn’t speak to Liz for a week.

She never told anyone what had happened, what I had told her. We’ve been friends ever since - I mean, we were before, but…that was just because we had to be, but after my little experiment…things were different. We started hanging out. I started coming to the Crashdown at night when things got bad with Hank, and she helped me through all that shit. If it wasn’t for her I think I would have killed him. Liz became my friend instead of Max’s mistake. She became my sister. We never talked about Maria, and I never drank again.

Even when she invited me to come tonight she didn’t mention that Maria was going to be here. She didn’t mention that Maria was going to be here and that she was going to be dancing with the lights sliding down her body like rain, her hips swaying to the thumping beat that reverberates through my own body.

She had set me up.

Liz set me up.

I sit here watching Maria, watching her dance, gulping down icy water that freezes my teeth and does nothing to help my dry mouth. I can just leave. No one’s seen me yet. I can just tell Liz I hadn’t been able to make it after all. ..

I don’t move.

I sit there at the bar watching her and she’s so beautiful…mesmerizing…I let my eyes travel over every inch of her body, admiring her with a freedom I’ve never had before because she can’t see me through the darkness, the smoke, the weaving bodies of the dancers around her.

That’s all I’ll ever be able to do. Watch her…want her…wish that I could tell her that I’ve never wanted anything as much as to hold her just once…to kiss her just once. Not anything.

From that first moment where we had run into each other, the first moment we had ever looked into each other’s eyes…as brief as it had been…something inside of her called to me, something inside of me wanted to listen. And I didn’t. I ran away.

With every ignored glance I kept running, with all of my silences…all of my refusals to admit to myself what I knew in my heart, in my soul…

I wanted to belong on this earth. I wanted to belong to somebody. I wanted it to be Maria.

She sweeps her hair up, piling it on top of her head, holding it there with one hand as the other cups the back of her neck then slowly slides down to cover her heart, gently tapping out a rhythm she follows with her hips. I watch as a single bead of sweat settles in the hollow of her throat, and she turns her head.

She sees me and her hair falls around her shoulders, her hands slide down her body and rest on her hips. I don’t look away. For the first time I hold her gaze. Her lips part with an intake of breath. I want to kiss her. I want to touch her mouth, I want to feel her breath in my mouth. I want to feel her…

She comes toward me slowly, giving me a chance to run, and I stay. I wait where I am with my back against the bar, leaning against it, a glass of ice water in my hand that does nothing to cool me because she lights me on fire.

She stops in front of me. We are still looking into each other’s eyes. Green with flecks of amber.

"So…You wanna dance? Or stare some more?" I don’t answer, I can’t. My voice is stuck in my throat. She reaches out and takes the glass from me. She replaces it with her hand and leads me onto the floor…

*~*~*

The second he stepped through the doors I knew…I could feel him there…and I could feel him watching me. I tried to ignore him. I was determined not to fall into that trap again. I was determined not to look at him only to have him ignore me like he always does. It hurts too much. I don’t want to want someone who doesn’t want me.

And there were plenty of guys here…plenty of them were asking me to dance…

But I kept saying no.

I wasn’t going to do the girl thing. I wasn’t going to try and make him jealous because he wouldn’t be jealous. He wouldn’t care. And besides none of those guys were…

None of them were Michael.

I wanted to go. I wanted to go find Max and Liz and tell them I had a headache or something.

I didn’t look at him on purpose, it just happened. I met his eyes and I didn’t look away.

Neither did he.

He was leaning against the bar, his black T-shirt clinging to him in ways that just…

I wanted to take it off him.

And he was still looking at me…looking at me the way he did in my dreams…

Maybe it was a dream. Maybe that’s why I went to him…why I asked him to dance.

I didn’t think he’d actually do it. I thought he’d laugh, roll his eyes, smirk. Maybe he knew it was a dare. Maybe that’s why he was coming with me. Maybe…

Maybe he’s pressing his hands against my back…and his fingers are slipping below the lip of fabric there, gently caressing my lower back.

I can’t believe I’m still standing. Maybe I’m not, maybe he’s holding me up…

And we’re still looking at each other…

Love, love is a verb

Love is a doing word

Feathers on my breath

Gentle impulsion

Shakes me makes me lighter

Feathers on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Feathers on my breath

I put my arms around his shoulders, my fingers find their way to the back of his neck and echo his soft touches. He closes his eyes for a moment, and his grip tightens around my waist. I tilt my head back as he slowly sweeps his lips from behind my ear to my jaw, breathing a trail of butterfly kisses down my neck to my shoulder. I have to remind myself to breathe…and I cling to him feeling lightheaded and dizzy with want. He’s taking his time…teasing me with his grazing kisses, knowing I want pressure, knowing I want him…

Night light of the day

Black flowers blossom

Feathers on my breath

Black flowers blossom

Feathers on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Feathers on my…

He traces my collarbone with his tongue and his hand glides up my back. He tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling gently, exposing my throat to his open mouth. And I tremble in his arms. I let him do whatever he wants to me…I’ll follow anywhere he wants to take me…

I’ll…do anything…

Say…anything…

Be anything…as long as he doesn’t…stop…

Don’t stop…

Michael…

Water is my eye

Most faithful mirror

Feathers on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Of a confession

Feathers on my breath

Most faithful mirror

Feathers on my breath

Teardrop on the fire

Feathers on my breath

He lifts his head from my shoulder his eyes dark like the desert night and I feel a thrill run through my body chasing away all the fear, all the pain I’ve been living with for so long. I’ve been waiting for this…for him…David’s guilt trips…Doing my part to save the world…That’s not why I’m here…

I came back for this…for him…

I’d stay for him…

"Maria…"

Oh God…

"Michael…"

Kiss me…

You're stumbling in the dark

His lips a slow crush against mine, stealing my breath, stealing my knees…I melt against him and it’s wonderful…

He makes a noise against my mouth, surprised. He pulls away.

You're stumbling in the dark

He stares at me. He blinks and the world moves in slow motion as he backs away from me…like he’s afraid…

Doesn’t he know he’s safe with me…? Doesn’t he know by now…

I know he doesn’t want to go. I can see it in his eyes, and I reach out to him. I cup his chin in the palm of my hand.

"Don’t you dare leave me now…" I whisper, and I wrap my arms around him. With a soft groan he gives into me and I silence him with a kiss…

He is mine and I am his…it was true from the very beginning.

I knew it all along…why didn’t he?

*~*~*

Little girl with long gold curls sitting on the steps of a porch.

Tears streaming down her face as her fingers frantically try to untangle themselves from the laces.

A Dalmatian with a sympathetic tongue.

Two little girls - the golden one and a dark haired girl cutting out paper dolls…

The same two little girls a little older now, painting each other’s fingernails, throwing popcorn at each other, whispering about love…

Junior high walls, barreling into a warm body…his body. Shock of recognition…

She had felt it too…

I…

I rip myself away from her, reeling with her memories…how…

I’d gotten a flash from her, with that first touch of her lips on mine…a burst of light and warmth and…Maria…waterfalling through my mind…drops of memories washing over my closed eyes…her pain at her father’s leaving tensing my shoulders, her love for Liz warming my heart…her immediate feelings for…for me…racing through the rest of my body following the pulse of my blood making me dizzy…

I don’t want to see any more.

It feels good…it feels right…but I don’t want to take from her anything she doesn’t want to give. I don’t want to sneak into her head and read her secrets…it’s not…it’s not right…

Not now…

I want to believe that I can trust her…

I want to believe she might love me.

"Don’t you dare leave me now…"

God, I don’t want to…

Her arms are around me, drawing me near, her mouth against mine, gently demanding, her hands in my hair, her body pressed against mine and I moan her name because I don’t want it to stop, I want to feel her, all of her…

*~*~*

I don’t know how we got back to my apartment. It’s all a blur of touches and sighs…

No frantic fumblings in the dark with hands buried under clothes…slow explorations…so slow…slow like honey…his hands sliding down my shoulders like melting sugar…sweet…

I take off his shirt, run my fingers over his chest as his carefully pull apart the bows at the back of my neck and the small of my back…

I cling to the warm solidity of his body as he tells me that I’m beautiful, tells me that he always thought so…that he’s always wanted this…wanted me…

He tells me he’s missed me…

I tell him I love him.

"You don’t know me…" He whispers, and I kiss away the pain in his eyes because I do know him…We’re the same…

I take him to my bed and he touches my body, my soul…

I fall asleep in his arms and for the first time I feel safe, I feel complete. I feel like I’ve found what was missing all those years. It’s these arms, these dark eyes that I’ve fantasized about for years, these lips that tasted better than I ever could have imagined, that told me more than I ever would have expected.

He doesn’t say love.

He says Maria, and it’s the same thing.

*~*~*

Maria alone at the Crashdown one night…dragging a broom across the floor as the gentle whirring of the fan does little to disrupt the heat…the drip drip dripping of ketchup bottles on the counter…

I remember that night…one of the hottest nights of the year up until the heatwave sophomore year…

I had been out walking, avoiding going home. It was late, but the lights to the Crashdown were still on and I went there. I saw her through the window all alone, lazily sweeping the floor, her clothes clinging to her small body as she fanned herself with her hand and glared at the big silver fan that wasn’t doing anything.

She looked up and saw me through the window.

I froze.

She took a hesitant step towards the door.

I ran.

I ran so hard and didn’t stop until I got to the trailer where I collapsed in a heap on the steps.

Maria still at the Crashdown feeling him. Maria turning her head. Maria seeing him.

Michael not running away.

She had fantasized about me…about that night…what could have happened…

I kiss her as I see myself kiss her in her head…

The straps of her tank top slipping down her shoulders under the hesitant encouragement of his fingers….

I untie the strings at her back and hold my breath waiting for her to stop me, to tell me she’s changed her mind, to tell me that I’m not what she wants…when everything is telling me that I am…

Maria’s smile tinged with a little doubt as her mother tells her they’re leaving Roswell for good…finally doing it instead of just talking about it.

Maria at the Crashdown with Alex and Liz, hugging them goodbye…holding on for a long while and then letting go with tears in her eyes. She looks at the boy sitting alone in the corner, pretending to read Ulysses but watching everything. She thinks about going to him. She thinks about telling him she’s leaving. She doesn’t. She just goes.

An older Maria getting caught in the rain…A boy with a coat, holding it over her head…

Maria standing in front of a crowd under colored lights, swaying her hips to a song she sings with confidence. She smiles at the boy beside her, who grins back, his black hair falling into his eyes as he leans over his guitar and expertly runs his fingers over the strings…

Maria and her mother. Angry words. Tears. A slap.

Maria staying out all night, coming home with a silver hoop in her belly button.

Maria with the dark haired guy, looking at road maps, planning a trip…

Hello California.

Her mother in the hospital.

Goodbye California.

Her mother at home again. A man who smiles at Maria. A man who casually asks about her and her mother’s life back in Roswell…

Flickering candles.

Happy Birthday Maria.

Her mom out on a date. She blows out her candles with the dark haired guitar player.

Hospital. Home. Hospital. Home. Hospital, Hospital. Hospital.

Cancer…

We’re sorry Maria…

The Man pretending to cry. The Man holding her while she does.

The Man paying the bills, The Man grabbing her by the arm showing her things she’s tried to block out. They are blurry. To blurry to tell what…

She’s afraid.

She says yes to the Man.

He helps her move out, helps her move to Roswell.

She cries the whole drive over. She finds peace at the rock…his rock.

She drives into town with a scared heart, but it beats a slow steady beat of hope…

Hope that she hasn’t been forgotten, that Liz and Alex are still there…that’s he’s still there.

Max and Liz at the Crashdown. Michael on the balcony. Max and Liz. David? Max. Max. Max.

Michael.

Michael smoking, Michael painting, Michael catching her, Michael dancing with her, Michael kissing her, Michael making love to her…

I run my hand slowly down the slope of her back the color of the silver desert under the moonlight filtering in through the gauzy curtains over her bedroom window. I brush her hair away from her face, and I trace her eyelashes, her lips, her nose with my eyes…amazed…so amazed…and scared.

I know why she came back. Her mother died and the Man…the Man wants something...

He wants Max.

I leave her asleep on the bed. I pull on my clothes and I close her bedroom door behind me.

She’s spying on Max. She’s helping the Man.

Who is the Man? UFO nut or…

I go to her phone. I pick up the crumpled piece of paper that has a number on it with no name.

The Man gripping her arm, when she tried to change her mind. Shoving the number into her hand. Softly wiping a tear away from her cheek.

"You owe me darlin’"

My hand is itching to draw. Before I know what I’m doing I grab a pencil and a scrap of paper. My hand is moving on it’s own. I open my eyes and stare at the sketch.

FBI.

I drop the pencil.

She’s helping the FBI. They still want Max. They still want to cut him to pieces. They haven’t given up. She’s helping the FBI.

I run. I shut her front door behind me and collapse on the balcony, my stomach heaving, as I grip the bars and cry.

*~*~*

"Michael…?"

I know he’s gone before I open my eyes. I know I should have expected this…I mean he’s a guy right…

No.

He’s just trying to freak me out. He’s still here…he’s in the kitchen, raiding my fridge…he’s still here…he’s…

"Michael…"

He’s not here.

I sit up and wrap the sheet around my body feeling…empty. I gave him everything…

And he hadn’t even left a note.

Not that a "Hey Deluca - it was fun -see ya around maybe…" would make me feel better.

I thought…

I thought that had been real…I thought he…

I thought he loved me.

I…

I hear him next door. It sounds like he’s breaking stuff. I need to talk to him…maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe he’s coming back. After breaking some dishes.

I grab my robe and pull it on as I run to the living room. The phone rings. I falter. I listen. He is quiet. The phone rings again.

I run for the door.

I knock on his and wait, shivering in my thin robe. These few seconds seem like hours and when he opens his door…he looks at me like I’m dirt.

The phone continues to ring, the harsh sound floats onto the balcony from my open door.

"Hey…" I whisper. "You…You…" He won’t look at me…

I’ll be damned if I cry in front of him…

You don’t care Deluca. It was just a fling to you too. You don’t care…you don’t care…you don’t care…

"So that’s it huh?" My voice breaks and I want to die. I want to kill him for making me feel like this…for hurting me…for lying…for making me believe…

"I have to go to work." He steps past me onto the balcony and locks the door behind him, not even looking at me. "Your phone’s ringing." He says as he trots down the steps. I watch him as he takes off in a run, never looking back.

I clutch my robe shut and go back to my room. My knees give out on me and I slide to the ground. I watch the phone on the table through a mist of tears, still ringing, still waiting for me to pick up.

*~*~*

I don’t go to work. I run to Max’s house, my feet slamming down on the pavement shuddering through my body that’s already shaking.

Why…

Why did it have to be her? I knew someone would come, I knew we weren’t safe…I knew this "normal life" thing we all had going on for the last few years was a joke…that it was only a matter of time. I knew someone would come, just like Topolsky came, just like Sanders came…

Why the fuck did it have to be Maria?

I vault over the fence of the Evans’s backyard, and when I reach for the latch on the window I accidentally blow it off.

I push myself through the window that swings open brokenly on its hinges and Max stares at me, the arms of a sweater covering his as he pauses from pulling it on.

"What is it? What happened? Is it Liz? Michael-" He whips the sweater off and helps me through the window as I pant, exhausted, trying not to cry.

"Maria." I whisper hoarsely.

"What about Maria?"

"She’s…FBI…I mean…she’s…she’s helping the FBI. They still want you Max…they’re still not convinced you’re…human…"

He stares at me, swallows. I know he’s thinking about Liz. I know he’s thinking that she’s going to be upset.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, dammit!"

"How did you find this out?"

I close my eyes, trying to block out the memory of her skin, her lips, her hands…the flashes…

Why not tell him?

"Flashes."

"You…you got flashes from her…?"

"Yes." I snap, "What is that so hard to believe?"

"No…but…We saw you two leave together last night…I didn’t know you even liked Maria…"

I stare at him.

"You think I fucked her for information, is that it? Maybe raided her apartment while she was asleep? You think I wanted to find something? You think I wanted this to happen?" I can feel my blood heating up the same way it always does when I think of Hank and what he’d done to me. I want to hit Max. I want to hit him because he has every right to think of me the way he’s thinking of me. It’s something I would do. But that hadn’t been my intention with Maria…I swear to God…even when I was making all those fucking accusations, telling Max and Liz to be careful what they told her…I didn’t really believe she was out to get us…I just didn’t want her to ever find out what Max is…what I am…

"You care about her." Max says quietly and I don’t look at him.

I love her.

"It doesn’t matter. When she catches onto you - when she has evidence, it’ll all be over Maxwell. You can kiss Roswell goodbye - your parents, Liz…You have to stay away from her. We all do…It’s the only way."

"Michael-"

"Don’t ever speak to me about this Max. Don’t say her name to me, don’t -" I swallow and pull myself through his window. "Just don’t." I say, and repair the latch, locking it, pretending like that will keep him safe, will keep us all safe.

*~*~*

Have you ever called out someone’s name and swore that they heard you even though they kept walking? Have you ever chased after them, caught them by the arm with a smile and say, "Didn’t you hear me?" and have them lie to your face and say "no"?

Liz told me she had to go pack for school since she was leaving soon. Max used the same excuse.

Second semester didn’t start for another week and a half.

It was "Uh…sorry Maria I’m really…I can’t talk right now…" all over again. And I knew it was because of Michael. I don’t know what he could have said to her and Max that would make them act this way but I couldn’t think of any other explanation. I didn’t try to talk to Max or Liz about it. Whenever they saw me coming towards them they closed off. I could see it in their eyes. No matter what I’d say they wouldn’t really hear me. They’d nod, offer a fake smile then make up some excuse about how much packing they have to do and all but run away from me.

I didn’t see Michael leaving for work, coming home from work. I didn’t see him at the Crashdown flipping burgers and growling at the waitresses to move their asses and push the special. I think he took his breaks when he felt me come in and camped out in the alley or went up to Liz’s until I left.

And all the while David was screaming at me about how I had fucked up and that I better damn well try and fix things or it was my ass. I don’t even want to know what that means. I don’t want to know what David thinks he can do to me just because I’m not exactly prime spy material.

I’ve endured a week of this, and I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to make Michael talk to me.

*~*~*

It’s late. 11:30. I know he’ll be closing up, hopefully alone, and I go to the Cashdown still fuming from my last conversation with David, hoping it will help, hoping I’ll stay mad and won’t burst into tears the second he looks at me.

There’s no one inside, but the door is unlocked and I go in. I head straight for the break room and push open the swinging door. He has his back to me, and he doesn’t turn around. He slowly sweeps his hand over his head, pushing off the bandana that covers his wild hair. He throws it into his locker and slams it. I jump.

Why the hell is he angry at me?!

I’m the one…who was left…I’m the one who was used…

I stalk up to him and grab him by the shoulders, violently spinning him around. He flinches at me, his back slamming against the lockers, and that look of fear in his dark eyes is so strong…

He thinks I’m going to hit him.

I immediately back off and the tension leaves him as he realizes I’m not going to do it, I’m not going to hurt him.

"What did you say to them? What have you been saying about me?" I go to him again when he doesn’t answer, standing so close I can feel his heart beat through his thin T-shirt, through mine. "Look at me Michael…" He won’t. I carefully bring my hand to his chin, lifting his head so he has no choice but to meet my eyes. They are sullen, closed off. I let go. "You hurt me" I whisper and he blinks at me, some of the feeling coming back into his eyes.

"I hurt you…" I stare at him, those tears I’ve been trying so hard to keep from falling slipping down my cheeks. He shakes his head at me, breathing hard, and pushes me away. He goes to the door leading to the alley and I follow him out into the darkness.

He whirls around as I reach out to stop him and slams me up against the wall, his face inches away from mine, his body pressed tightly against me. I look into his eyes and I’m not afraid. I hurt him…somehow I hurt him just as badly as he hurt me and he’s desperately trying not to feel it, not to feel me not struggling beneath his hard grip. I know he won’t hurt me.

"I know all about you…" he whispers harshly, still not letting me go.

"What are you talking about?"

"I know why you’re here. I know you’ve been spying on Max. I know who you are…"

"How…"

"It doesn’t matter…"

"It does!" I push him off of me and scream at him. "Is that why all of a sudden you were acting like…like you…you were trying to…to…It was all a lie wasn’t it…everything you said…everything…You don’t understand. You stand there, judging me, ruining everything I’ve ever had that meant something to me and you don’t even know…you don’t even know what I went through!"

"You don’t understand, Maria! Do you know what they’re going to do to him?!"

"They’re not going to do anything because they’re wrong about Max! I’ve been telling him they’re wrong and he just keeps pushing me! I can’t find anything because there’s nothing to find! Max is not an alien! Maybe once they get a hold of him they’ll realize that and leave him alone, leave me alone!"

"You stay away from Max! You stay away from Liz and you stay away from me!"

He leaves me alone in the alley. He locks the back door and I stand there, staring at it. Then I turn and run. I have to get out of here. Fuck David and his alien-hunting FBI friends. Coming back here has cost me far too much. It’s ripped out what’s left of my heart and left me gasping. I can’t stay here. The only thing that ties me to David is the money he’s spent on my mother’s sickness, her death. I’ll pay it back, in full - with cash. Not with favors that destroy me just as much as facing the fact that I was a bad daughter, that I wasn’t there when she needed me had destroyed me.

I reach the mouth of the alley and suddenly a hand shoots out grabbing me by the arm. I feel my purse being yanked off my shoulder, and I’m pulled up against a body and feel the stinging heat of a knife slide into my stomach. I don’t even cry out. Shock locks my mouth shut, as my attacker drops me and I collapse to the ground clutching my stomach as my blood oozes out between my fingers.

So much blood…

My head swims, and the neon pink light of the Crashdown’s sign swirls with the black night until it’s overcome and all there is is darkness.

*~*~*

A little boy watching silently as they are taken away. He hides behind the shadow of his rock, calling out to them with a thin strangled noise coming from his throat. The two circle-lights fade to black and he’s alone in the cold.

Linoleum floors, yellow walls, sad children. All alone, all alone.

Woman at a big desk with funny black glasses. She gives him a name. Michael.

"Michael this nice family here wants to adopt you…you’re going home with them…"

Home. Black skies deep and velvet pin pricks of white stars and tilting planets marking shadows on the green earth beneath his feet…

Home is a small house with a dirty yard and a dog that barks at him.

Home is a nice woman who dies and leaves him with the man that smells funny, that hurts him with his big white sweaty hands.

Home is a trailer with cracked walls and a matted carpet stained with Hank’s obsession.

He hides in his closet drawing symbols on a notebook that he doesn’t understand. The symbols make him cry.

The little boy climbs the steps to Roswell Elementary, his hands shoved into his pockets, his head down. He sees a glimmer of gold out of the corner of his eye and he looks up from his scuffed sneakers and it’s gone.

He sits alone on the swings, dragging a toe in the dirt, cradling his twisted arm. Dumb Hank.

A shadow falls over him, and it’s warm, it’s comforting. He looks up and he sees them. A boy with dark hair and solemn eyes, a girl with long blond hair and a sweet smile. They found him…he was so afraid they wouldn’t.

Tasting his own blood as he falls to the ground with a whimper.

Junior High, stalking down the hallways daring anyone to look at him. They don’t. A girl running into him. Gold hair under his chin and the scent of apples. Green eyes with flecks of blue and amber, wide and confused. He catches her, her skin under his hands shooting sparks up through his fingers into his brain. He drops her.

She’s in his class, sitting in front of him, twirling her hair around her finger, stopping and glaring at him as he kicks the underside of her seat.

At the Crashdown with Max, looking for Liz, looking for Maria with her long high school legs walking towards their table, the short teal skirt swishing across her knees, her gold hair pushed behind silver antennae as she unconsciously mocks who he is with her dress and what he can never have with her body.

She’s leaving. He tries to concentrate on Joyce and all he can see are her arms wrapped around her friends as she cries goodbye-tears. She walks past him, slowing down at his table but she doesn’t stop. He puts down his book and stares after her.

Fists slamming into his body, calling out her name in his sleep, visions of the stars, the rock warm and hard under his sleeping back, dreams of the dome, fingers itching to trap it on paper…

The symbol around Izzy’s neck, Riverdog, shivering in limbo, warm sun and a "v" of stars in the blue sky, fading to night, a map on the cave wall…

Topolsky…

Where are you Maria…

Hot burning sliding down his throat, cloudy head, cloudy eyes…

Good morning Liz…

Goodbye Hank throwing his freedom at him with a choking cloud of dirt as he drives away.

His own place, home but not home.

Taking Sanders’ job at the Crashdown. Goodbye cop cook.

Valenti…

I know about your friend Mr. Guerin…help me…work with me…

Go to hell Sheriff…

No proof…

Apple Shampoo in Liz’s bathroom.

Maria come back…

Maria lighting up a cigarette with shaking hands, rain sliding down her throat as she tilts her face up to the crying sky.

Touching her, kissing her, holding her body to his in the night saying her name as she whispers his…

I love you I love you I love you

Maria…

Maria betraying him with The Man who shows her pictures with silver handprints, prone alien bodies strapped to tables, sliced open…

Maria lying on the sidewalk in a pool of her blood. The canvas…Maria with her hand wrapped in a bloody towel, pale face and shaking knees…

If I knew how I would do it. I would heal you. I would risk everything.

He does know how. He can do it and he does.

*~*~*

His hand is pressed against my stomach, and I watch him close his eyes, frowning in concentration.

I know.

I know what Max is…what Michael is.

A tingling warmth…all those images…and the pain is gone.

"God Maria…" He pulls me into his arms and I cling to him. He saved my life…He saved my life with his glowing hand. I pull away and stare down at my stomach. My shirt is torn down the front and between the shredded fabric is a handprint, shining silver against my skin. I look at him and he is afraid to look back now, not angry at me, just afraid. He thinks I won’t love him anymore.

Michael is an alien.

Max and Isabel are aliens.

David was right…

I get shakily to my feet, almost falling against the building and he comes to me to help then stops.

I reach out to him, I want to tell him that I’m not afraid, I’m not afraid of him, but I can’t speak and I shiver in his arms as he wraps them around me and holds me close.

*~*~*

He drives my car home and we don’t speak. We don’t need to. But he’s still worried, he’s still scared by what he just did. He walks me to my door and I catch his arm before he turns away.

"You don’t have to be afraid of me Michael…neither does Max…This is over…David…he can’t make me do this anymore…I never wanted to in the first place…you have to believe me…"

"I do now…I’m sorry I didn’t…"

"I’m sorry…" he stares at the ground and takes a step back. I grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him to me before he can leave. I kiss him and whisper a thank you for my life against his lips.

*~*~*

I take off my clothes and stare at my body in the mirror. I stare at Michael’s hand gleaming on my abdomen like a special effect from a science fiction movie. I place my hand over it, fitting my palm against his, my fingers over his, and feel a little tingle…the same one I always feel when he touches me, when he looks at me…

I take my hand away and Michael’s is still there. This is real, everything that has just happened is real. I had almost died and Michael is an alien…

I need to sit down.

I collapse onto my couch, images of him, of his life tumbling through my brain, one after the other showing me who Michael Guerin really is. I want to find Hank and kill him. I want to kill him for putting that fear into Michael’s eyes, for stealing his self-worth…I want to hug Isabel…Snobby Isabel whom I hated in junior high because she always seemed so perfect and made sure everyone knew it. I wanted to hug her for taking care of him, for loving him, for trying to keep him safe, for believing in him. I wanted to thank Liz for letting him crash in the break room when things got too hard, I wanted to thank her for trying to make him talk about things instead of lashing out and for knowing when to back off and just be there. And Max…I wanted to protect him. I wanted protect him because he has always tried to do the same for Michael. Because he would die for all of them - Isabel, Michael, Liz…Because he’s Michael’s hero…

I look at the wall separating our two apartments and I imagine him lying in bed and not sleeping. Maybe he’s staring at his wall too.

Maybe he regrets helping me.

He never wanted me to know any of this…any of his pain from Hank’s beatings, from his stargazing that never resulted in anything other than an aching neck because no one was coming for them, ever. He never wanted me to know how much my leaving affected him. He never wanted me to know that he loved me from that first instant where our bodies collided in a crowded hallway and everyone but us seemed to disappear for a moment as we met each other’s eyes.

He doesn’t want me to know that he is afraid to feel, afraid to admit he has feelings, that he’s still clinging to that version of himself where his dream of returning home was a shield to keep everything from touching him. He doesn’t want me to know that he hid behind it and refused to make ties with me because he thought I would never want him, because he thought it would be too hard when he did go. He doesn’t want me to know that he refused to fight back with Hank because it didn’t matter anyway - because he would be gone soon, and if he could just endure it for a little while longer leaving this shitty ball of dirt would just be that much sweeter, that much more of a relief.

He doesn’t want me to know him because he’s ashamed of who he is. He’d still feel this way even if he hadn’t fallen from the stars, even if he had been born here on this earth that he believes hates him.

And I haven’t been here to convince him otherwise.

Maybe I could have done it if I had been here. Maybe I could have made him believe he was worth loving. Maybe I could have filled in the empty spaces in him that Isabel, Liz, and Max couldn’t reach and kept him warm. Maybe then he would have been able to admit to himself that he needs me, that he doesn’t want me to go again. That he loves me…Because I know he does. I’ve seen it in his eyes, felt it in his hands, heard it in his voice when he whispered my name, tasted it in his kisses…

I don’t want him to regret me. I don’t want him to be afraid to tell me he loves me when I tell him I love him. I don’t want him to sleep without me tonight.

I get up from my couch and go to my bedroom to grab my robe when I hear it. A muffled yell and a dull thud coming from Michael’s bedroom. I run to my door, pulling on my robe and tie it tightly around my waist telling myself he probably just tripped or something but I know that’s not it. I whip it open and David is standing there with his fist raised mid-knock.

"Hello Maria."

I look past him and see two men carrying Michael down the steps. He’s unconscious.

"No…"

I try to push past him but he shoves me back and shakes a finger at me, blocking the door.

"Don’t be difficult darlin’…after everything you’ve been through you need to rest…" I look at Pierce frozen in shock as he stands here eyeing the gap in my robe between my breasts and when I finally move my hand to close it he takes me by the wrist and pulls open the cord at my waist. He gazes at the silver handprint still decorating my flesh and smiles. He reaches out and traces it with his finger and I yank myself free from his grasp, understanding…understanding everything...

"You never wanted Max…"

"No."

"You tried to kill me tonight because you thought Michael would save me."

"I knew he would." He grins at me and I shiver down to the depths of my soul. "Ain’t love grand?"

*~*~*

It’s not what I expected. All my nightmares…well, the ones that weren’t about Hank…were about this…being strapped down to a table like an insect waiting to be cut, waiting to die. I didn’t expect to be tied to a kitchen table in some rich guy’s condo. I expected white walls, surgical instruments lined up on an immaculate table just waiting to slice. There were some instruments beside me but they were lying haphazardly on a dirty tablecloth and it pissed me off that they didn’t think I was worthy enough to kill with a clean knife.

Some part of my brain obviously doesn’t realize how serious this is.

Maybe I think I’m dreaming - that I really did fall asleep after I left Maria. It was just another nightmare, and I would wake up soon to the sound of Maria’s alarm clock through the wall...

I close my eyes tight and open them again and I’m staring up at the same beige ceiling. I turn my head and a Dali reproduction hangs there on the wall mocking me with dripping blood and bodies with holes in them.

This isn’t a dream.

No one is coming for me.

Max doesn’t know where I am, Izzy’s been away for days and she doesn’t know what the hell’s been going on…and Maria…

Maybe she knew.

Maybe she knew they were coming for me.

No. I would have seen something. She thought they were after Max.

They had tried to kill her to get to me…Somehow that bastard knew I wouldn’t let her die…Somehow he knew that I would risk being found out for her, that I would risk this for her…

"Mr. Guerin…how are you feeling?" I crane my neck to see the Man from Maria’s memories coming towards me with a pleasant smile on his face as he pulls on a pair of rubber gloves. So smug…

"Actually I’m pretty pissed off. I liked my bed better than your table."

He smiles at me as his rubber glove snaps over his wrist.

"Do you know why you’re here?"

"Candid Camera?" I mumble looking around the room, trying to find it, while screaming in my head for Max and Isabel, knowing they won’t hear me, won’t know until it’s too late.

He takes a pair of scissors from the table beside me and cuts away my shirt. I shiver as the metal touches my stomach and he smiles at the little line of blood on my abdomen.

"It’s red…" he murmurs, smearing it onto the finger of his glove and looking at it closer. "The ’47 report said it was white…"

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Aliens…Mr. Guerin…aliens from the ’47 crash that we caught and…studied…A pair of them…a male and a female…and three others not yet born…" He looks into my face, looking for some sign of recognition.

"Who’s "we"?" He smiles again. He does that too much…maybe he’s trying to scare me. It’s working…

"The Special Unit…the Special Unit that was recently shut down…because of our last foray into Roswell, New Mexico…We spent a lot of time and energy and…operatives on your little friend Max and came up with nothing…but I knew something had happened that day…I saw the dress, read the report…and it said there were two boys there that day…and that’s when I became interested in you Mr. Guerin…everyone was so interested in Evans that they forgot all about you…story of your life, huh kid? Anyway I decided to check up on you…Talked to your foster father…He had some interesting stories about you…He seemed to think you were possessed…"

"Yeah - may I remind you the man is a raving drunk."

"He was very sober when I spoke with him."

"Whatever…" I suck in my breath as he picks up a marker and draws a line down my stomach. He’s really going to do it…he’s really going to cut me.

Stall…

What the fuck good will that do? The man is a psycho…

Max where the fuck are you!

"Let’s get back to the part where the Special Unit shut down."

A shadow falls upon his features and he gestures to a group of men waiting patiently by the door. Maybe Pierce isn’t going to be the one slicing and dicing after all.

I’m really getting scared now…

Izzy…

"They thought our investigations were a waste of time. I’ve had to go about apprehending you without the proper resources…I had to recruit a civilian…but that worked out rather nicely didn’t it…?"

"How did you know Maria would ever want to waste her time with a guy like me?" I close my eyes and swallow. I’m fucked. It’s that simple. This is how I’m going to die…I can put it off with my questions for a little while, but what’s the point? I’d just be delaying the inevitable… But he likes to talk. He wants me to know…

"She told me about you once…She was very open about it - how you made her feel, how much she missed you…of course she was drunk so it wasn’t too difficult to get her talk. And you want to know the most beautiful thing about all of this Guerin? This wasn’t planned. I met her mother at a bar, fucked around with her for a few weeks whenever I was in town and then she happened to mention where she and her daughter were originally from. I found out Maria missed her friends - missed Liz Parker and that was why she was so unhappy…why she was getting into so much trouble…Everything just worked itself out…It was perfect. I was meant for this Guerin - I was meant to prove to the world once and for all that aliens exist…And once I do I’ll not only get my job back…they’ll reinstate the Special Unit and I will be the head of it."

Here goes my last ditch effort…

"I’d like to help you - really I would, but I’m not an alien - you have no proof that I am. Hanks "stories" wouldn’t hold up and you know that. I am not an alien…I’m just a guy who is going to sue your ass for kidnapping." I think I finally understand how Max feels when he’s talking to me sometimes…like he’s talking to a brick wall…Nothing I say to this guy will convince him to let me go…I know that…I don’t know why I’m even trying…

Yes I do.

I don’t want to die. I finally have her…she’s finally mine and I don’t want to let her go…not when we’ve just found each other…

"You made a mistake with her boy…I wouldn’t have known for sure if you hadn’t healed her…"

I blink at him. Does he really think I regret that?

He stares into my eyes, frowning.

"To tell you the truth I’m surprised you did it - I thought you’d just let her die…which would have been fine with me - she’s more trouble than she’s worth…I just would have had to find another way to get to you…but you healed her." He smiles slowly as the "doctors" hover around him waiting for his word to get started. "You don’t really expect me to believe you love her do you? I understand you wanting her…wanting to touch her…taste her…she’s a beautiful girl…but I don’t for one minute believe you know what love is. Your people don’t have the heart for it…Or so we’ll find out…" One of the doctors step forward and I can’t help but try and squirm away from him even as my restraints hold me down. He stops him. "No…not yet. I’ll let you rest a little while Guerin…I want you to think about what I’m going to do to you…and I want you to decide whether or not your going to make it easy or hard on yourself. I’ll be back later with my questions…and I hope you cooperate Mr. Guerin. You’ll be sorry if you don’t."

"What the fuck does it matter? Either way I’m dead."

"Yes but…whether or not you die alone is up to you."

Maria…

"If you touch her I swear to God I’ll kill you!"

He looks at me from the door and frowns in mock sympathy.

"Now how are you going to do that? Answer my questions and I’ll think about letting her go…Think about what’s important to you Guerin…"

And now he’s gone.

I scream for Max and Isabel one last time but I know it’s no use. I don’t want to think about Maria…I don’t want to face the fact that I have to choose between my family and my love…I don’t think I can do it…

I won’t. I’ll lie through my teeth.

He won’t kill Maria.

I close my eyes because I know he will. He will kill her and he won’t think twice about it…

But he’s going to ask me about Max, about Isabel…I can’t let this happen to them…I can’t let him hold them down and threaten them…hurt them…

But Maria…

I’m trapped.

*~*~*

I drive to Max’s. I don’t know where else to go for help. I pulled on a pair of jeans, tied my robe tight, not bothering with a shirt, and ran to the car, my heart pounding, tears streaming down my face. If anything happens to him I’ll never be able to forgive myself. If he dies I’ll die.

I run three stoplights without getting caught and when I’m about to turn onto his street it happens. A knife of fear stabbing through me so sharp it leaves me gasping and I ram the jetta into a tree.

It’s Michael’s fear. I feel him. I feel him crying out to me, to Max, to Isabel.

I get out of my mangled car and run the rest of the way cradling my arm to my chest. I stumble to his door and before I can knock it opens and I fall into Max’s arms.

"Don’t give me any shit about needing to pack - I need you…Michael needs you…"

"I felt him…" His voice shakes. I don’t think he’s even taking to me. "That’s never happened before…I could hear him…"

"Me too…" I whisper, and he stares at me in shock, finally seeing me. The phone rings. "Isabel."

"I’ve got it Max…" I see Liz behind him, her eyes wide with fear, answering the phone. I can hear Isabel frantically screaming on the other line from where I stand. He grabs my arm and I cry out, feeling bone slide against bone and he lets go immediately.

"I can heal this for you - do you want me to?" I nod meekly, thinking "sure what the hell, why not have one more alien see what a betraying bitch I am"…although I’m sure Michael’s already told him everything.

I feel a warmth sinking into my skin but I don’t get any visions. I hope he didn’t get any from me, but I know he did by the look in his eyes as he lets me go.

"That man…the one you were helping took him…"

"Yes…" I whisper. He opens his mouth to speak and we both double over as the fear hits us again.

*~*~*

One of the doctors came back. He was curious about me. He wanted to know how high my threshold for pain was. He cut my arm in three different places, each one deeper than the last, checking my face for a reaction, raising his eyebrows when my breath quickened and I sucked in my stomach to keep from screaming. I wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction…

They are going to take me apart piece by piece and there isn’t anything I can do about it.

I don’t want to be afraid but I can’t help it…what happens to people like me when we die? I’m pretty sure I don’t get a heaven…I don’t even think I get a hell…just emptiness…

Shit…shit, shit, shit…

Another one comes in and stands beside the one who keeps tracing suicide slits on my wrist and presses down on my forearm. He picks up a scalpel and drags it down the marked line on my chest and I do scream then. I scream until my throat is raw…

*~*~*

"They’re hurting him!" I sob and Max lets me go. I get a glimpse of his ashen face before he turns away and grabs the phone out of Liz’s hand.

"Isabel, try to connect with him! Get in his mind get him to tell you where he is!"

Max’s frantic instructions fade to the background as Liz comes to me and I bury my face in her chest. Her hands shake as she runs them through my hair.

"He’ll be okay Maria…" She whispers, and I lift my tearstained face to meet her eyes.

"Do you really believe that?" I whisper.

She doesn’t answer.

*~*~*

"Isabel was able to get some images from him…he…he can’t think straight - they aren’t drugging him they’re just…"

"Hurting him…" I whisper as he turns back to the phone.

"I’ll ask her…" Max puts his hand over the mouthpiece and tells me she saw a painting. "Michael said it was by Dali…he’s in a kitchen with a green marble counter…?" I frown at him.

"That sounds like David’s place…but why wouldn’t he take him…somewhere…official?"

"Do you know where he lives?"

"Yeah he-"

"Isabel, I’ll call you on the cell - we know where he is, we’re going." He hangs up and Liz tosses him the keys to the jeep and the three of us bound out the door.

When we get to the jeep sitting in the driveway, Max hands the keys to me. "Get us there…" is all he says and I nod as I climb in and start the engine.

"He’s an hour away."

"Floor it." I answer him by peeling out of the driveway, leaving thick black marks on the concrete.

I can feel his eyes on me as we drive down the highway. Liz is sitting in the backseat. I look at her in the mirror and she looks away.

"I didn’t mean for this to happen…"

"To Michael you mean." Max says sharply. "You meant for it to happen to me."

"Max…"

"How could you Maria?" Liz says softly from the back and I feel my heart clench with guilt.

"It’s not what you think…Even if I had found out anything I wouldn’t have told him…I care about you guys too much…" I glance at Max. "You saw into my head didn’t you? You saw…"

"I saw Michael. You care about him. I know that’s real."

"Do it again." I say. "Connect with me - do the Samantha-genie-alien-thing where you read my mind and find out the truth. You guys have to know this was all a mistake…Liz?" I look into the mirror again. She looks like she wants to believe me. She looks at Max and he stares out the windshield.

"I don’t have to." He says. "Michael loves you. That’s good enough for me…for now. But if this is a trick-"

"Let’s put it this way Max - Pierce tried to kill me tonight... I would be dead if it wasn’t for Michael. If I see him again I’m not exactly going to give him a big hug and ask where I sign up to join the FBI, okay? Anything you want to do to him I am all for…He’s going to pay for Michael…for my mom…for everything."

*~*~*

"Krickland get away from him! Not yet…." Pierce takes the scalpel away from my flesh and makes an annoyed clucking noise at the back of his throat as he observes the river of blood sliding down and off the sides of my chest. I guess he doesn’t want me dead yet.

I can’t think straight…nothing had hurt like that…I think I’m losing it…I thought I saw Isabel here, hovering over me with tears in her eyes telling me I’m going to be okay…that Max is coming…

Pierce barks at the two "doctors" to "clean me up" and to not perform any medical procedures until he comes back. He says he has some phone calls to make. Probably calling the President to see if he wants to watch.

I suck in my breath as the doctor roughly wipes away the blood.

Throw up the wall Guerin…rebuild it stone by stone…keep everything out…you can