Rating: Somewhere between G and PG
Spoilers: It'll make more sense if you've seen "Cry Your Name." Includes references to any or all episodes up to CYN.
Summary: Episode tag to "Cry Your Name". Someone spies as Michael comforts Maria and reflects on Alex's life.
Disclaimer: I am only borrowing Michael, Maria, Amy, and Alex's memory. No infringement intended...I am making zilch on this fic.
Authors Notes: I am a Candygirl-Fehrian-Pixie-Lolly...just presenting my shipper tendencies. I hope you enjoy this if you read it, because I have worked very hard on it. I hope the lack of dialogue doesn't bother anyone. You know M&M are a couple of few words...that's one reason why we, CG's, love them!

*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm so sorry..." he breathes out as he watches her sleep. He runs the back of his hand over her cheek, lightly drying away the tears that are trickling down to her pillow. She is curled up on her bed, in a fetal position. Her legs and arms are pulled so closely toward her body that it seems as though she is trying to make herself disappear. What can he say or do to stop her pain? Despite the many times he has hurt her and broken her heart, her spirit remained intact and she always came out fighting like a incensed little sprite. Yet as he watches over her, in her fitful sleep, he wonders if Alex's death will break her spirit; will her spirit be able to survive this tragedy? Can he, the warrior...not the healer, do anything to restore her wounded spirit?

His lips move slowly and thoughtfully as he prays a silent prayer for the pixie-girl with the broken wings. He knows what it's like to be broken, to feel liking disappearing. He had spent the worst part of his life fearful of everything, save an alien spacecraft landing in his back yard to take him home. When you're a stonewall, shutting yourself off form human contact, refusing to become attached then there's no one to miss if they suddenly leave or if they die. He had never experienced the death of anyone close to him. Unless you count Nasedo, but Nasedo was far from the caring, supportive father he'd imagined him to be. Besides, Nasedo had always seemed more interested in so-called "King Zan" than in "Warrior Rath".

"What do you need me to do for you, Maria?" He whispers in her ear and gently brushes the fallen tendrils of blond curls out of her face, placing a soothing kiss on her cheek. She stirs a little, and for the third time, kicks the covers off with her sock-feet. "Shh..." he responds. She tenses up, pulling her extremities even closer in toward her body. "I'll take care of you. I'll be here, right by your side," the rest of his promise echoes in his mind and in his heart, "...because I love you." He reaches over and pulls the cotton comforter over her, tucking in the edges to provide greater warmth. He knows she feels cold. She feels the cold that he has lived, the cold that he silently suffered through every time he was away from her. His heart is ripping in half knowing she is suffering in that way. Before realizing what he's doing, he crawls in bed beside her, positioning himself close to her back and wrapping his strong arms around her balled-up body, he whispers softly in her ear. "It's okay, Maria. I'm here..." Her body shakes sporadically as quiet, mournful sobs pour out into the otherwise peaceful room.

He closes his eyes, resting his head on her pillow. He has to be strong for her. The best he can do is to try to be what he thinks she needs. Her life has been plagued with so much disappointment and pain that it seems unfair that she had to fall in love with an alien and lose one of her best friends in the world, all in the span of one year. She had always been strong for him. Even at the lowest point of this tortured existence others called life, she could pick him up and nurse his wounds and miraculously they both would rise up stronger and better each time. This time, he has to be strong for her. His instincts have to kick in. Surely there has to be more to me than just being an Earth-bound screw-up or the second-in-command in some socio-political, intergalactic war on a distant planet. He reaches deep inside his soul, human or alien doesn't matter, and finds the ability to ease her pain, wash away her tears, and be a comforter. He allows her to be weak, to cry in his arms, this time.

Their lives had finally come full circle. There was no denying that their destiny lay in each other. He knew, without a doubt, that he was in love. Staying by his pixie's side was all that he wanted to do. Going home was not an option, because as cliché as it sounded...home is where the heart is and his heart belongs to Maria.

"No attachments" had been his promise to himself. He had fought tooth and nail to not allow them to harness him to Earth, but that was one battle he was thankful he had lost. These humans had become his family. At that moment he realizes that he is grieving too. He realizes that Alex Whitman had been a friend to him. Alex had been brave enough to be the first to step forward to save his life in that cave. Alex was simply a good guy, yet there was nothing simple about him. He loved Maria in a way no one ever had. He would have done anything to keep her from hurting and to shelter her from life's pain. He just wasn't able to save Maria from the alien abyss...he had fallen into it, himself. Now, all of the women Alex had loved and would never have hurt in a million lifetimes were lost, alone, and frightened without him. Since he's not here to be their strength, Michael would promise to be Maria's protector, her comforter. Michael would miss Alex Whitman, too, because Alex was the epitome of loyal and loyalty was something Michael had to respect, to honor. Suddenly, the tears begin to sting his eyes, as he finally lets his emotions free. Michael and Maria drift off to sleep, temporarily easing the pain they share over the loss of a good friend.

A shadow moves across the bed as Amy slowly closes the bedroom door. She is filled with sadness and pain over the loss of Alex, but she is no longer worried about her daughter. The boy, the man, who was lying beside her daughter, whispering words of comfort, and trying in his own way to ease her pain, to heal the hurt, will be her protector. He will be the man that Amy had always believed didn't exist in this world.

"Note to self," Amy whispers, "Tell Michael he is welcomed in this house anytime." An image of the two curled up in bed together flashes through her mind and she adds, "...on the couch. He is welcomed...on the couch."