Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 59 1/25/21 (WIP)

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 51A 2/22/20 (WIP)

Post by keepsmiling7 » Sat Feb 22, 2020 11:45 am

It hurts me to see Max so confused and unsure.
Especially in the previously part when he mixed up Liz and Tess in the observatory.
The white room experience will linger with him for a long, long time.
And Liz doesn't now how to respond. But she does keep trying even though Max refuses to connect.
Maybe, just maybe Max is beginning to believe. Let's hope so.

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 51A 2/22/20 (WIP)

Post by behrinthecity » Sun Feb 23, 2020 10:30 am

Thank you so much for your comment keepsmiling7! And sorry for inadvertently misspelling your username! Will be editing that in the prior post shortly.

And yes, this story definitely will not sweep what happened in the white room under the rug like the show did. In fact, when I first started writing this fic it was an outlet of my feelings that the show did not give the impact of what Max went through enough due. And even though in the healing process of two steps forward, one step back, there will always be an undercurrent of hope. See you next week!

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 51A 2/22/20 (WIP)

Post by Flamehair » Thu Feb 27, 2020 8:45 am

I second everything what keepsmiling7 wrote :-) Another great part, thank you
big prince Leo Alsandair Aidyn Galahad Colin 12.08.2007
little prince Robin Faramir Gawain Diarmad Finlay 18.05.2009

little princess Eowyn Morgaine Nevialani Caitlin Valerie 15.05.2012

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Part 52

Post by behrinthecity » Mon Mar 02, 2020 9:51 am

Hi everyone! Apologies for the slight delay, was dealing with internet issues this weekend and today was a busy work day. But before I crash for the night wanted to post the next part. This part will also be posted in two installments due to its sheer length.

Keepsmiling7 and Flamehair-- thank you both for your comments. I just want to give you both a hug.

[From Part 7]

“Hey girlfriend.” She tried to smile, but failed miserably as her tears spilled over into sobs. She knelt down, shifting onto one side, legs behind her. She lightly trailed over the grass covering her friend’s body, as if with comforting caresses. As she sat there in silence, tears still marking paths down her cheeks, memories of the last time she was there filled her head—the funeral. She remembered feeling so lost, looking out at a crowd where the majority didn’t even know Max and wondering if she could get through the funeral without breaking down completely. Somehow she managed, the thought that ‘this’ was all she could do for him—to sing and pray his soul was finally at peace. She couldn’t let him down and she didn’t. As she began to talk to her friend, her fingers still trailing through the grass, she could hear the song she sang that day.

“This almost seems familiar, me doing most of the talking, and you just sitting there, listening. You being there that summer meant a lot and I’m sorry that I wasn’t equally there for you.”

“You were always there to pick up the pieces, fix the mistakes of others. But when you needed that same help, we weren’t there…I wasn’t there to give you back your hope. I was hurting so much that night and it turned out it wasn’t exactly what I thought, but it did the damage…only the damage was done to you and your relationship.”

“I thought I always saw you as you, but I realize I didn’t, not really. I saw the person who saved Liz with his alien powers and with that same alien heritage, proceeded to break her heart and change her life irrevocably. Yeah, yeah I actually picked up on some SAT words from Liz. Anyway, you were the guy I would measure Michael up to; you were the guy who just seemed so perfect that when…everything just went to hell…I didn’t recognize you anymore. But the thing is I never truly acknowledged who you were. I knew you as Isabel’s brother, Liz’s soul mate, Michael’s best friend, a good listener, an alien king, a healer, a Czechoslovakian. I really wish I had taken the chance that summer to actually get to know you. Know you beyond relationship and other-worldly troubles.”

"But I guess our lives are just one big cliché…I mean, I finally realized the kind of person you are through your actions. Both times you died; it was saving another one’s life. I’ve realized you were the person that followed his heart and each time you listened to it, it was protecting others at your own risk.”

“You were a miracle. Without you, I would have lost a best friend even earlier. I know you would argue at this point that everything afterwards—all the danger we were all put in, was your fault. But you see you were there to save us when you were able to follow your heart. You were a good man Max. And if you were given the chance, I’m sure you would have made a wonderful husband and father too. You were a great friend and because of you, we’re all still here, somewhere, and we’re ok. Rest easy, you don’t have to worry anymore. Just be.”

[From Part 14]

The rookie was back with the blanket, which the agent proceeded to wrap around the prisoner. The prisoner glanced at it questioningly, but said nothing. The agent then placed the hot tea in his shivering hands helping him move it to his quivering lips. “Drink” the agent commanded.

That’s when he saw the eyes. It was only for a brief second, but the eyes showed how scared he was; how much pain he was in; and the surprise that he was granted something to drink. He sipped at the tea, unable to steadily hold on to it. After drinking a third of the cup he stopped, his breaths seeming less erratic now. Though they came out in wavering long-drawn puffs, he attempted to speak, “Tha…than…kyou.”

[From Part 35]

Before Liz and Isabel could respond to Kyle’s warning, Michael came up behind them and scooped up Max. His step faltered briefly in his shock to discover how light and frail Max’s body had become during his time in here, only the restraints around his wrists and ankles providing any substantial weight. Michael swallowed his anger and horror, grinding out, “Let’s get out of here.” He quickly strode out of the room toward the exit, gently cradling Max.

[From Part 50]

Some days Diane could almost convince herself that the laughter belonged to her own children splashing around in the lake. Lazy summer days where she saw phantom images of herself enveloping her smiling, soaked children in a big towel as they rushed back up the dock. Had it really been ten years since they had all been here together-- happy and carefree? she wondered to herself.

[From Part 51A]

“There’s something I need to show you. It’s downstairs, so I’ll be right bac—”

Max abruptly cut her off, “Lead the way.” The utterance was soft, but conveyed hope at whatever idea Liz had and showed the blind faith Max had in Liz.


Twenty minutes earlier

Michael’s eyes shot open. His general paranoia and well-trained senses alerted him to movement outside the room. Sparing a glance at Maria who was still sleeping, he got up and quietly approached the door.

Pausing at the door, he listened to the quiet murmuring. A concerned look flashed upon his face, and he surreptitiously opened the door. “Videos?” He heard Max’s breathless voice ask.

His eyebrows rose at what was clearly Liz’s latest plan to help Max. As he internally debated whether to go out and stop it, he was startled by Maria whispering, “What are you looking at?”

Quietly shutting the door, he faced Maria. “I thought I heard something—it’s just Max and Liz.” He answered nonchalantly, hoping not to give anything away.

Maria narrowed her eyes for a moment.

Michael did his best to hold a clueless expression on his face.

With a roll of her eyes, Maria walked to the bedside table and came back with the empty glass. “You really are a terrible detective,” she commented wryly.

Holding the glass to the door, she listened intently. After a few moments, she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Before she could say anything, Michael was right by her asking, “What do you hear?”

“There were a few clicks and then nothing.”

Michael warily stared at the door imagining what Max might have seen.

“What’s going on, Michael?”

“I think Liz is showing him the video files.”

“Wha-” Michael quickly clamped a hand over Maria’s mouth to stifle the too loud exclamation. Spying the angry glare Maria was giving him, Michael gradually removed his hand, wordlessly conveying for her to keep it down.

In a hushed tone, she asked, “Are you sure?”

“I heard them say something about videos,” Michael admitted.

Maria cocked her head to the side. “I thought Max remembers everything…”

“Yeah, but he still believes he’s trapped in there,” Michael muttered.

At that news, Maria rubbed Michael’s arm in comfort; her face shadowed in sorrow.

“They’ve been quiet for a while, maybe we should check up on them,” Michael suggested.

Maria solemnly nodded.

Once more Michael cracked open the door, this time a little wider. He did not expect the sight that greeted him.

Dumbfounded, he stared with his mouth slightly opened.

After watching him for a few moments, Maria sidled up to Michael trying to see out the door as well. Immediately, a huge grin spread across her face. In sotto voce, Maria squeed, “That’s my girl!”

Noticing her reaction, Michael pulled Maria into the room. “What is it?”

Pushing aside her annoyance of being interrupted from her watch, she explained, “Back when Max had healed Liz, he made some connection that allowed him to send her images without getting anything from her. I think Liz called it a reverse connection. Something like that.”

Tilting his head back and sighing at Max’s brashness back then, Michael remembered the passage in Liz’s journal about seeing into Max’s soul. He had interpreted it as her euphemism for making out back then. Now though, he could not hold any grudge against Max doing this without running it by him and Isabel. It was what led Liz to being a trustworthy ally for them. It also brought Maria into his life. He subconsciously smiled as he continued to look at Maria.

Maria on the other hand was growing impatient wanting to see how the connection would work with Liz being the sender. And so, she gently pushed Michael aside and spied through the door.

Liz’s hands were no longer cradling Max’s head, but were holding them in their laps. Though his back was to her, she heard Max stutter out, “Thank you… for saving me… for loving me.” Max’s heartfelt words were choked with tears.

Liz’s hands were once more on Max’s face. In moments, the two soulmates lips connected and they sank into each other.

By this point, Michael had his arm around Maria and was happily observing Max and Liz. Just maybe Max would be okay, he thought.

“Maybe we should go back to bed?” Michael suggested.

Looking up at Michael, Maria observed the shadows under his eyes. Stifling a yawn herself, she acquiesced. With one more glance at their friends, she saw that they had actually fallen asleep. Content, she closed the door as quietly as possible.

Once under the covers, she snuggled up to Michael. With a kiss, the two promptly fell back to sleep.

Half an hour later

Feeling the slow steady breaths of Liz as she fell into a deep slumber, Max cracked his eyes open. He fought the urge to rub his eyes; not wanting to disturb Liz who was currently burrowed into his chest.

A besotted smile lifted the corner of his lips. Her hair, barely held in a bun, stretched out in sinuous trails, the tips tickling at his neck. Tilting his head to the side, he studied Liz’s face. Though her cheeks were still invitingly soft, the fullness that used to be there was gone. Coupled with the shadowy smears under her eyes, it was evident that the past year had taken its toll on her, as well. At the thought, Max bowed his head in guilt. The memories she shared with him flitted through his mind.

His eyes prickled at the sounds of her cries. His heart ached at the images of her bent over in grief and fear. But then the scenes of her comforting Isabel and confidently leading everyone to this safe haven made his chest swell with pride. From the moment he had laid his eyes on her in third grade he was in utter awe of her. Her brilliance, kindness and beauty enraptured him and he still couldn't believe he was lucky enough to be loved by her. His insecurities once more cast doubts that what he had seen was more than a desperate dream of his, but the echoes of love from Liz kept them at bay. Her determination, relief and hope had buoyed his soul with the message that she wanted him, needed him, loved him. Through the connection she had declared that he completed her. That life was that much brighter, warmer and richer together.

Together... the thought spread a warmth through his body and soothed his agitated mind. Instinctively, he pulled her close breathing in her familiar scent. The slightest mew of protest escaped her, but her eyes remained shut.

Max remembered how deeply he had slept the night he bared his soul to Liz— partly drained from the new and deliberate use of power and partly aided by the comfort in knowing Liz hadn't rejected him... hadn't feared him. Adoringly, he looked down at her peaceful form and unable to help himself he leaned forward slightly to gently kiss the top of her head.

The natural action unfortunately dredged up the recently discovered memory of betrayal. A sour taste filled his mouth and his back went rigid, he turned his head away in self-loathing. How could he have been so weak? How could he be forgiven for that indiscretion? How dare he touch the angel in his arms?

Now too ashamed, he shifted under Liz and managed to extricate himself. Before she could sense his absence he placed the stole draped on the sofa upon her. He indulged an extended look watching her curl under the blanket as he backpedalled away from her.

Reaching the edge of the living room he looked around him lost. Seeing the back door through the kitchen he quickly took the escape it offered.

As he stepped onto the porch, he released a sigh strangled by a barely held sob. Shakily, he ran a hand through his hair.

Glancing at the sky, its greyish white of diffused light seemed to flatten from a textured state to smooth, unyielding panels. He squeezed his eyes tight and shook his head. Though the movement failed to quell the fear of being once more held in that monochrome box, it allowed his other senses to waken.

His feet still bare, he felt the wooden slats beneath them. The grainy coarseness from being exposed to the elements helped to ground him. His barren cell had been slick giving him no traction when he had tried to back away from his captors. Though his chest still felt tight from his barely contained panic, he forced himself to breathe deeply.

A delightful moisture and the scent of some flowers and grass filled his nose. Breathing again, he felt the tightness ease. The only memory he had of ever experiencing a non-arid atmosphere before was at his parents’ summer home in New Hampshire. But with the lake by it, it had been different than this.

Tentatively, he opened his eyes. His hands clenched at his sides in apprehension at what he'd see.

He was met with the same view of the dew covered grass, surrounded by a brick wall and covered by an overcast sky. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding, he gingerly stepped forward. In moments he stood on the grass feeling the cool damp sward gently poke at his toes. Squatting to run a hand over the ground he marvelled at the sensation not even minding the slight irritable pricks on his arms from mosquitoes. Could it be? What Liz had insisted in the connection was true…

The image of him being cradled by Michael out of his cell and the building he had been held in flashed in his mind.

He awkwardly smiled, an almost giddy laugh bursting through his pressed lips.

This was… He was…

He released a shaky breath. He slowly regarded his surroundings one more time. Earlier he had interpreted this seeming haven as a vivid hallucination; a consequence of a desperate imagination seeking relief. And though he had seen this backyard in his disjointed memories—the sensations of life around him strengthened the loving assurances Liz had given him through the connection. For too long he had been in a state of living death.

But now…

His eyes momentarily closed as a cool breeze caressed his skin. The harsh dryness of his climate controlled prison had been different. He did not shiver from this breeze. Rather he faced it fully to enjoy the gentle buffets of air.

He wanted to believe what Liz had asserted and what his senses were confirming now. And as he stood in the grass he chose to believe.

He was free.

A breathy laugh escaped him.

Mentally, he repeated the affirmation. I’m free…. I’m…. His legs began to buckle under him—his body demanding the rest he had been denied for so long. Arms slightly out to steady himself, he stumbled backwards until he reached the porch steps. Sitting down heavily, he covered his bent head with his hands.

He could feel the pull of exhaustion beckoning him to sleep within his hands.

A sudden roar of an engine tore through the air causing him to snap his head up in alarm.

His body taut once more, he could feel his heart thumping against his chest. Breaths left him in shallow pants as he waited for whatever threat would appear.

Moments passed with only muted sounds of neighbours heading off to work. The staccato sounds of car doors shutting and cheerful greetings carried through the air.

He pushed back his hair, somewhat tugging at the strands to shock himself back into his senses. He wasn’t there anymore, he silently reminded himself. The affirmation was tentative though, his eyes wide as he searched the shadows for his captors.

“Mind if I sit here?” A voice in a quiet dulcet tone spoke.

He sharply turned his head, but his body instantly sagged in relief upon seeing Maria. He gestured towards the step with a small smile.

Maria returned the smile, though it did not reach her eyes. Her concern for Max had grown from watching him the last few minutes. It seemed he still did not believe he was safe. Not that she could blame him for that. Her stomach had done flips at that startling engine sound expecting the agents to have caught up to them. In an effort to distract herself she had begun to putter around the kitchen to make some tea. At first she intended to make it for Liz, but observing her slumbering form on the couch, she returned her focus back to Max.

Despite their best efforts, Max was still hardly eating and so she selected something that would help stimulate his appetite. As she approached his gaunt, bent form she knew she had chosen right. However, as she pivoted in place to sit down, a few droplets sloshing out of the mug, she mentally chastised herself for pouring so much honey into the tea.

After a few aborted attempts to sit, Maria noticed Max watching her curiously. With the slightest exasperation she handed the mug to Max, “Here; drink this.”

He took the proffered mug eyeing its contents dubiously. After settling down next to him, he asked Maria, “What is it?”

With an indignant huff, she answered, “Tea. I may have added more honey than necessary, but I remember how much sugar you aliens went through and trust me that tea needs something sweet added,” She paused in her hyperactive ramble to take a calming breath. In a more serene and coaxing tone, she nudged his hand that was holding the mug and said, “Drink.”

The bemused smile that was beginning to stretch across Max’s face froze. A shiver stole down his spine and his sides appeared to spasm. The pastoral surroundings of the backyard had given way to an icy and hazy white. His grip seemed loose on the cup of warmth held within his hands. Daring a glance upward, a blurry shadowy form crouched before him, which to his surprise bore a resemblance to Michael.

Before he could comprehend what he was seeing, he heard an apprehensive voice call his name, “Max?”

Looking around he only saw white. His breaths left him in shallow puffs. With his body shivering, he almost believed his breaths were coming out in foggy clouds.

“Max!” The voice was more forceful this time though tinged with panic.

Blinking rapidly he began to make out Maria’s concerned face. His voice a little shaky, he asked, “What happened?”

Maria’s lips opened and closed a few times in an unintentional goldfish impression. Finally, she settled on the tentative response: “you sort of zoned out…” As she gesticulated she brushed against Max’s arm and in shock, remarked “Oh my god, you’re ice cold!”

Having turned to reach for the mug that had been placed to the side of her she missed how Max uneasily shifted in place at her choice of words.

Placing the mug into Max’s hands, she supported his tenuous hold on the handle and encouraged him to drink, “Here. It’s hot. It should help to warm you up.”

As he sipped, he flashed a look of gratitude to Maria. His eyes instinctually closed as the hot liquid swirled on his tongue and spread heat through his chest. After several sips, he finally lowered the mug (Maria’s hand still guiding the movement). His stomach was still taut with disquiet at the sense of déjà vu that Maria helping him drink gave. His fingers felt stiff around the cup’s base, though there was no apparent reason for his sudden attack of cold. His eyes fluttered close with a sudden realization.

He must have had a flashback.

Disjointed images of him fighting to escape a bath of frigid water flickered in his mind. He could almost feel the ice cubes bumping into his flailing limbs.

Releasing a shuddering breath, he opened his slightly stinging eyes. He should have known it had been too good to be true. He wasn’t free— perhaps he was physically. But mentally, he was still the Special Unit’s. His eyes returned to the ground as they should. Hearing Maria take a breath as if to talk, he lifted the tea to his lips once more; all the while avoiding Maria’s gaze.

But Maria was not deterred.

“I’m glad you like it,” she spoke quietly.

Draining the cup, Max gave a curt nod as he kept the emptied vessel to the side. “Thank you for making it.”

Dismissing the need for thanks, Maria clasped her hands upon her knees and turned once more to Max. “It’s the least I could do. I—” She broke off, uncertain on how to express her thoughts. Forcing out a breath, she shifted her position to better face Max. Her voice tearful and apologetic, “I’m a terrible friend, Max.”

Max’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I delayed Kyle in finding you. I—I thought the dreams weren’t real and I—” Her face ashamed, she stuttered out her apology. “I was the reason you weren’t saved sooner.”

Max was taken aback at the stark guilt on Maria’s face. Taking one of her hands into his, he assured her, “No, you weren’t.”

She began to argue back, but Max cut her off, his voice in an understanding, older brother tone. “It really wasn’t your fault. I—for all intents and purposes, I was dead, Maria. I… I would never have expected any of you to believe otherwise—“

In a morose tone, Maria noted, “I didn’t believe it at first. You had come back to life before… I figured you could again… but…” A treacherous sob escaped her. In a low voice, she added, “the agents made sure I did.”

A pained expression stole across Max’s face over the evidence of how much the Special Unit had hurt them all. No matter how much he had pleaded for them to leave the others alone… they clearly hadn’t.

Tentatively, he reached for Maria. She readily entered his comforting embrace, hot tears dampening his shirt. After a while of her silent crying, she pushed off his chest to look at his face and ask, “I know they had your grave miked, but did they play the recording of what I said there?

Cocking his head to the side, Max was confused at the question. But then multiple memories of him hearing the voices of his parents and friends washed over him. “…everything afterwards—all the danger we were all put in, was your fault.”

His head cowed at the memories, Max affirmed he had heard.

Sniffling, Maria asserted, “I meant what I said, Max. You were…are a miracle, a good man and a great friend. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been as good of a friend to you.”

Max was stunned at Maria’s words. He hadn’t heard anything like that. In the back of his mind he acknowledged that likely the agents had played him edited tapes, but right now all Max could focus on was Maria’s misplaced guilt.

“Why do you say that?” With a sheepish grin he reminded her, “You were the only one who would indulge all of my pining for Liz. And you even helped me have… fun. Enigma is still one of my best memories.”

A sly smile briefly flashed on Maria’s face as she reminisced over finally finding and attending Enigma. But she couldn’t let herself off the hook that easy. “But I hardly knew anything that was just you. Like… even as something as basic as what your favourite colour was.”

“Green,” Max answered simply.

Maria tsked. “My point is: you bothered to help me and find out about me. I didn’t really do the same. And when I went to your grave—I didn’t even know what your favourite flower was. I ended up going with a white rose and forget-me-nots.”

“I don’t think I have a favourite flower. Ask Isabel, she’s likened my taste to a caveman plenty of times. But what you described sounds really nice. Thank you, Maria.” He met her gaze to express his sincerity in his last statement.

Maria searched his eyes and finally accepted what Max was saying.

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she offered a watery smile. “Now how about some breakfast? And not just another one of Isabel’s instant mix shakes.” The latter comment was expressed in a chastising, disapproving tone.

“Don’t knock the shakes—I mean they’re no Crashdown Alien Blast, but they’re actually not bad. Even has two flavours: chocolate and strawberry,” Max defended.

A snort escaped Maria. She was about to launch into a lecture of Max needing to eat real food, but then she registered the Crashdown comment. Maybe that was the key. Something familiar for him to eat. Something associated with happy memories. With a tinge of pride in her voice, she suggested, “Well you’ve got three former employees of the Crashdown—one of whom used to be the cook. How about we do burgers and shakes with real ice cream for lunch?”

Max hesitated. After spending all that time calming Maria down, he didn’t want to dispirit her with the truth: that he couldn’t bring himself to eat a proper meal. His stomach was constantly in knots, and besides the Agents had made it abundantly clear he didn’t deserve it. And after his revelation earlier about the Observatory, he now fully agreed with that condescension. All he did was wreak havoc in his loved one’s lives. Though currently, he was too much of a selfish coward to leave them be. So he hedged, “Maybe.”

Maria chose to drop the topic for now, but figured Max could use some proper warming up. Looping her arm with his, she urged him up, and led him back into the house.

To be continued next week with Part 52A.
Last edited by behrinthecity on Tue Mar 03, 2020 4:19 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 52 3/2/20 (WIP)

Post by keepsmiling7 » Mon Mar 02, 2020 2:44 pm

You are an amazing writer. I feel the raw emotion of tenderness and sadness between our characters.
You have expressed so many memories, but one of my favorites was the Enigma. I can still see Maria and Max heading up the hill to the big event.
Now I can't wait for the next part. Thank you for sharing this with us.

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 52 3/2/20 (WIP)

Post by keepsmiling7 » Mon Mar 02, 2020 2:45 pm

You are an amazing writer. I feel the raw emotion of tenderness and sadness between our characters.
You have expressed so many memories, but one of my favorites was the Enigma. I can still see Maria and Max heading up the hill to the big event.
Now I can't wait for the next part. Thank you for sharing this with us.

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 52 3/2/20 (WIP)

Post by dreamon » Mon Mar 02, 2020 10:51 pm

I don’t know how you do it. I’m in constant awe of your talent and ability to convey such emotions and your writing is just effortless. I can’t wait to see what the next part entails!
I have a few dreamer challenges in mind if you are looking for ideas so pm me!

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 52 3/2/20 (WIP)

Post by clueless » Fri Mar 06, 2020 7:47 pm

It’s amazing beyond words to see you posting again. I’m a huge fan and thank you for not abandoning this and actually coming back after all this time. You have no idea how many times I’ve read this over the years and I’m looking forward to seeing how this tale unfolds. Hopefully not too soon cause I waited forever lol

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Part 52A

Post by behrinthecity » Sun Mar 08, 2020 1:27 pm

Hi all! First, I'd like to say thank you SO much for your comments. You're all so kind, and I really appreciate your continued interest.

keepsmiling7- When I put this part as a heart to heart between Max and Maria, I just had to include Enigma! I loved that the show gave them that storyline to just have a fun time, no alien abyss-nonsense attached (well I guess save for Michael's reaction to alcohol).

dreamon- Your comments have me blushing. That's a great compliment that the writing comes across effortlessly. I will say Part 42 in particularly was written in stages and tweaked over the years. :p

clueless- Glad to see a comment from you! Thank you again for all the times you've checked in with me. It's really good to be back. :mrgreen:

I really hope this part lives up to your expectations!! Note-- definitely read the Previouslys. Due to work deadlines/schedule, I will likely be back with Part 53 in about two weeks.


[From Graduation]

Mrs. Mills sat apprehensively in front of a table of photos. She recognized the teenagers pictured and strongly suspecting these so-called FBI agents meant them harm, she remained silent.

Agent Felding urged, “The sooner you help us Mrs. Mills, the sooner you can return home.”

Her voice was small as she resisted once more, “They helped me. They saved my life.”

Behind her, Agent Hammers made a veiled threat: “I’m sure your two children will be very happy to see you. It’s getting late.”

Mrs. Mills looked at each of the agents in turn, her eyes filling with shock and fear. Her stomach clenched at what these men might do to her children. The first agent’s gaze never faltered—his grey eyes steely as he appraised her. Silently praying for forgiveness, she regarded the photos once more. Feeling sick, she forced herself to point out her saviours.

As they all gathered at Vasquez Rocks to determine their next move, Michael was internally freaking out. It was all happening too much and too fast. Monk had died in his arms, he had nearly lost Isabel, Max had died and come back, he had somehow gone crazy under the influence of the seal and almost killed Maria, Tess came back with Max’s kid and now Liz could look into the future, which currently was forecasting to be very short. And so he defaulted to his flippant defensiveness. “Team? Look at us, it’s ridiculous!”

“Michael, you’re not helping,” Maria intoned.

“She’s right,” Max agreed listlessly.

“Ok; fine then help. What’s the plan?” Michael looked towards Max, expecting their stalwart leader to know.

But he didn’t. Max refused to make the decision, and Michael wasn’t entirely sure why, but when Max told him he wasn’t his second in command, the words stung. A flare of anger lit through his chest. But mostly he was disappointed. Max had given up. So why should he try? Why should any of them fight? And so, he chose flight.

“I got a better idea. Why don’t we get out of Dodge before they land on us? I mean, we leave.” He bit out the words, silently pleading Max to stop him.

“And where do we go?” Kyle asked, earnestly.

“Anywhere but here. I mean let’s face it. They know who we are, it’s over. We leave Roswell, we leave fast and we leave as quietly as we can. We all go separately.”

[From Part 4]

Alone once more, the painter put down the brush and turned once more to the painting. He stepped closer to it, his breathing a bit erratic now. As he tried to calm himself down, he breathed out the words *my fault*. Swallowing yet another lump within his throat, and running a hand splattered with paint through his jet black hair, Michael whispered, “I’m so sorry Max. I’m so sorry.”

[From Part 22]

The doctor then went on to check his reflexes and then before he left he asked the same two questions.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Yes.” The first time it had stunned Max into silence, bringing tears to his eyes as he remembered all the horrible things he had done to his friends and family before coming in here. Being here was his punishment. Now he answered automatically with a masked face hiding any emotion he may have felt.

“Do you understand your rights in being here?”

“I have none.” The first time he had been momentarily confused, but once he understood what was being asked of him, his voice broke at the question. Now it remained flat and dead.

[From Part 30]

Isabel snatched her hands out of Kyle’s now lax grip to hug herself as she tried to gain control over herself. But she could no longer think clearly. All she could think was—it was real. This was no mind warp.

Max was alive.

Her brother was alive.

And he was in more trouble than she could ever imagine.

“Oh God…” she sobbed out; her hands slipping from their wrapped position to cover her face.

She couldn’t say anything as she continued to sob, the horrible truth continuing to crash into her mind and soul.

She had left Max to a fate worse than death.

[From Part 43A]

“No!” Isabel began to vehemently shake her head, her hands wringing at her sides. “I can’t fix it! No amount of power… no…” as the sobs began once more she started to hyperventilate again, just managing to squeak out a few haunting words— “It’s too late… it’s too late!” Ignoring Michael’s attempt to comfort her again, her hands covered her face as she breathed out in bitter despair, “I failed.”

[From Part 43B]

Her head shaking slightly, Isabel decisively told them, “We are not looking at them.” Her voice thickened. “None of us. Even if we could bear to see these sick videos—” she shook her head more violently, interrupting her more rational point of not knowing where to even start to look among a year’s worth of 24-hour surveillance, “no… no we can’t. There has to be something useful in the other files. We’ll just… keep… looking …there.” Her throat had become constricted, causing her to choke on her words.

[From Part 47]

“Kyle… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“Stop right there, Max. You saved my life… and I don’t know if you never got to hear it or you just don’t remember it, but… when I thought you were gone…” He ran a hand through his hair, still awkward about expressing his feelings. With a brief wry smile he continued, “… well… it was hard enough saying it that time…” Holding Max’s gaze he tried to convey his gratitude and sincerity, “…so just know, I’ll never thank you enough for saving my life, my dad’s… Liz’s… all of us. Not even finding you seems enough… not when it took this long.” He shook his head slowly, weighed down by guilt.

[From Part 51A]

She spared a sideways glance to Max noting his strained expression directed towards the screen. Following his gaze she noticed his attention was focused on the other window, which provided an interface listing the other files they had only briefly skimmed that first time. In view was a file named, “T.o.S.” Though she was surprised he was staring at a document she assumed was full of general legal jargon, she surmised he was frozen by the mere fact that all the evidence of his capture laid before him.

She struggled to find words. The evidence of how the Special Unit had violated him was utterly unspeakable. Returning to Max’s face, she saw naked fear and uncertainty.


Upon entering the kitchen, Isabel greeted Max and Maria with her patented hostess smile. She was already mixing some batter and gesturing to the bowl, with a tinge of forced chirpiness to her tone, she asked, “Who’s ready for some pancakes?”

“Mmm sounds good. Let me wake Michael, and I’ll be right back,” Maria easily commented.

As she strolled back to the guest room, Max watched her go with growing dismay. Absently itching at his elbow, he wasn’t sure how to refuse Isabel’s offer.

He blinked suddenly as a glass filled with a milkshake was produced in front of him. Turning to Isabel, he offered inaudible thanks. With a slight nod, Isabel returned to her mix; her strokes more vigorous than before.

Sensing the increased tension, Max forced himself to make conversation— “These shakes really are tasty.”

Without looking at him, Isabel remarked tightly, “You just add water. Not much to it.”

Gingerly approaching her, Max touched her shoulder lightly, causing her to still. Moving around to face her, he stated, “I still appreciate it.”

Isabel’s eyes were red rimmed as she met Max’s gaze. Not expecting her to be so upset, Max instantly asked, “What’s wrong?”

A scornful huff escaped Isabel at his question. Glancing up for a moment, blinking her eyes, she then fully faced Max. “I hate seeing you like this. Unable to enjoy even a simple pancake.” The way she bit out ‘pancake’ expressed that it wasn’t about this specific meal or dish. “I…” her voice hitched. “I hate myself for not being able to help you.” Taking a deep breath, she confessed in a rush, “That I gave up looking for you.” Isabel paused as she pushed her hair back from her forehead. Fretting, she continued, “That I left you alone.”

Her last statement was spoken so small.

Max’s heart ached at the self-criminations his sister had professed. Just like Maria and Kyle, her guilt was misplaced and wholly unnecessary. But how to tell them all? Trying to say what happened out loud seemed impossible to him. His gaze shifted to the living room, suddenly. The files.

He knew what to do. With a slight squeeze of Isabel’s shoulder, he commented, “You didn’t, Iz. And I’ll prove it to you. Just give me a moment.”

“Max?” Isabel asked in confusion.

He had already started walking to the computer. The sofa was empty; Liz likely gone for a shower. He wasted no time opening the computer and pulling up the window Liz had shown him earlier. His breath lodged in his throat as he skimmed the file names listed. His hand automatically clenched into a fist at the reminder of the tests run on him. Shaking his head to rid himself of the unbidden memories of hunger, cold, extreme heat and nearly drowning, he finally found what he was looking for.

Clicking on the link, a separate window popped up playing a black and white video. The main figure was hooded and being forced into a chair. He briefly closed his eyes as he remembered the suffocating muggy heat of the hood clinging to his mouth with each breath. His hands cuffed in front of him were yanked forward and latched to the table. His legs were similarly chained at the ankles, placing him at an awkwardly bent angle. He opened his eyes just in time to see them rip the hood off.

He paused the video. Swallowing thickly, he steeled himself on what he was about to do… to reveal.

A sound from the stairs drew his attention and he saw Liz walking down as she dried her hair. The smile on her face was immediately replaced with concern, especially upon eyeing the opened computer.

Standing up he asked her to call everyone there. Somehow that request felt like he was getting ready for the gallows.

Minutes later everyone was settling before the computer. The girls had squeezed together onto the side of the couch facing the computer, but Kyle chose to sit on the arm rest and Michael leaned against the other.

Liz had attempted to get Max to sit by her, but he chose to remain standing. Each of them darted wary glances between him and the screen, waiting for whatever was about to happen.

Max’s back was slightly turned to them as he pondered how to start. At Liz’s uncertain call of his name, he turned and decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. “There’s something you need to see.”

Isabel spoke up insisting, “No, we don’t. We didn’t mean to watch that clip—”

He cut her off. “I need you to see this. To understand.”

Everyone shared uncertain glances as they watched Max make a window full screen and press play.

As the hood was removed they saw Max gasping for breath, his hair slick with sweat and sticking in different directions. He was shirtless, a thick bandage over where he had been shot. A light shone in his face causing him to squint.

“Max Evans.”

Max searched through the shining light with apprehension at how the low voice had coldly stated his name.

“Do you know who I am?”

The Max on the screen briefly licked his lips before raspily answering, “You’re the general of the base that blew up.”

“That’s right. A lot of good people were killed because… well that’s what I want to know: why?” The general leaned forward into the light allowing the others to see him. “That action is typically seen as an act of war.”

The captured Max was shaking his head, his hands fidgeting in his cuffs. “I didn’t know she was going to do that.”

“She—Tess Harding?” There was a shuffle of papers.

Swallowing visibly, Max nodded.

“And where were you?”

“Making preparations to help her leave town.”

The general intoned at the answer.

“And that didn’t need to involve her?”

“Tess and I… don’t—didn’t see eye to eye. I told her I would handle the arrangements and for her to go sleep.”

The general gave a curt nod seeming to accept Max’s answer.

“At graduation—how did you know we were there?”

Max’s eyebrows furrowed, confused at the question.

“Is one of your powers seeing into the future?”

Max gaped at the general.

Upon hearing the question, Liz turned teary eyes to Max, but he solemnly gestured for her to keep watching.

“No. What are you talking about?”

“You suddenly went up on the stage. The speaker hadn’t expected it, so I assume that wasn’t part of the ceremony.” There was a hard and dangerous edge to the general’s comment.

“M-my senses are heightened… I heard footsteps… after that manhunt for Tess… I figured it was inevitable you were coming for me.”

Max winced at the reminder of confessing that. He still remembered looking around the auditorium with growing panic as he heard the faint clicks of guns being readied.

“So the reason you went on stage--?” The general prompted.

“To minimize casualties. Enough people have been hurt because of me. I…” Max broke off, his head turned to the side as he stared at the darkened wall unseeingly.

“Or was it to save certain people?” The general asked archly.

Eyeing him warily, Max carefully asked, “What do you mean?”

The general pointedly slapped a number of photos on the table, narrating his suspected conspiracy. “Your sister, Isabel Evans. Michael Guerin. Elizabeth Parker. We have evidence revealing that these three are as “otherworldly” as you.”

Though the harsh glare of the lights prevented those on the couch from seeing the photos clearly, the words of the general shook them to the core. Liz’s premonition at that time had warned them that they were all targets, but the venom in the general’s voice caused the fear to spike anew within each of them. Tearing away from the screen, they each shot a pained glance towards Max.

Max’s head was bent and his jaw clenched as his mind played out the memory of seeing the photos. As he looked at the almost intimate close up shots of his loved ones, his body began to grow numb with dread. His still healing chest wounds burned as his increasingly shallow breaths robbed him of air. At least one of the photos had been taken weeks before. He hadn’t known they were being watched for that long. Internally, he had despaired at how he had dropped his guard. His thoughts had raced to figure out how he could still save the others. The answer came easily, though. Max lifted his head at the same time his younger self, filled with grim resolve, did.

“Tess and I are the only aliens.”

“Oh? And how do you explain these displays of power?” The general tapped at a couple of photos.

Michael regarded Max for a moment, sensing that the video was about to reveal Max had done something incredibly stupid and selfless.

“That was me.”

The general scoffed. “Your sister was found with you in the desert back in 1989. Are you saying that was a coincidence?”

Max held the general’s gaze steady, a sudden fire of determination in his amber eyes. “She doesn’t talk about how she came to be abandoned in the desert, but when she came across me she was clothed. She offered me her sweater, but I didn’t know what it was and didn’t take it. So she threw off all of her clothes to make me more comfortable. She…”Max broke off momentarily looking at his hands. “Once she held my hand she never let go.”

“No clothes were recovered at the scene.”

A hint of exasperation flickered on Max’s face. “It was night in the desert. And we had walked for quite a while before we were found.”

“But what about this? The tape is clearly a home video, and the date is the day before we searched your home.”

“Isabel always encouraged me to tell our parents the truth. I was… afraid. And so she finally came up with the plan that she would pretend to have powers so that I would finally tell them.”

“Seems oddly convoluted.”

Absentmindedly, Max murmured, “Her plans often were.”

The general raised an eyebrow, somewhat amused.

Isabel crinkled her forehead at that remark. Did Max really make a crack about her “Christmas-Nazi” persona to his captors? With effort she darted a glance at Max her eyes filled with concern, confusion and dismay. She saw he was attempting to hold a stoic expression, but his eyes still revealed his guilt, shame and pain.

“Michael Guerin was also found in that same desert albeit weeks later. Another coincidence?” The general’s question was once again dripping with cynicism.

“Michael always had bad luck with foster parents. I never pried. I just made sure he had a safe and warm place to crash.”

“And you did this?” The general lifted a photo of a planter breaking as Michael held a hand up towards it.

Max once more looked off to the corner. “It was an immature prank. Michael had been on my case about never doing anything… questioning what was the point of my powers if I didn’t use them. He insisted if he had my powers he would actually enjoy them. So… I decided to show him how it would be.”

It had been a half-truth as Max had been thinking about his power struggles with Michael over the seal. The whole interrogation was what Max had prepared his entire life for—hiding the truth with a plausible version.

“And what about Liz Parker?”

Max responded apprehensively, “What about her?”

“We have a witness statement that you and Miss Parker saved her life with supernatural powers.”

Max was silent for a moment. “Was that outside the Crashdown?”

“It was.”

“Liz had short-changed the lady. She asked me to help run after her as the lady was in a hurry when she left. It was happenstance that I was there to stop the mugger.”

“So Liz Parker never showed any signs of changing after you healed her?”

The silence was palpable as Max held the general’s gaze.


Before the general could comment, Max continued—“All these three did was befriend me—make me think I was… human.”

Crossing his arms, the general stated, “Yes, your speech did suggest that.”

“But you’re not going to let me.” Max stated with defeated acceptance.

There was another palpable silence as the general studied Max. Under his penetrating gaze, Max sunk into sorrow and guilt. His thoughts weighed on his heart as heavily as the cold fetters around his wrists. The constant bite of metal reminded him that there was no escape for him. The only thing he could do was ensure the others did not share this same fate. He fervently hoped the general had accepted his answers—believed them enough to leave the others alone. But as he looked up at the general, Max knew that they would still terminate a perceived potential threat. Just as the general started to pack up the photos, Max spoke with a plaintive plea in his tone. “Please let them live.”

The general sharply looked at Max.

“I… I’ll agree to whatever you decide to do to me. I’ll tell you whatever I know. Show you whatever I can do. I won’t fight it. I won’t escape. Just let my family and friends live their lives.”

And there it was. Michael clenched his right fist at seeing Saint Max continue his martyrdom. His legs felt numb as he registered exactly what Max had traded for their protection.

“Why would you agree to that?” The general watched Max, seemingly sizing him up.

“They already believe I’m dead.” Max dejectedly shrugged, causing a little clink of protest from his restraints. “Their lives were derailed when they chose to help me. I know I’m only alive because you wanted answers. I’ll give them to you. But don’t continue to punish them because they chose to be kind to me.”

The general stared at Max for a beat. Looking to the side, he instructed, “Prepare the documents.”

There appeared to be a jump cut as they saw Max’s head slumped to the side in an uneasy sleep. He started at the sound of someone entering. A contract was placed in front of him.

Rapidly blinking, Max picked up the stapled pages and began to read. They could see him clenching his jaw as he pored over the deal that would determine his fate.

His eyes closed, Max could still remember the starting refrain: I, Max Evans, hereafter referred to as Prisoner A5, surrenders fully to the United States Government. Prisoner A5 relinquishes all rights in exchange for the safety and protection of the following individuals: Philip and Diane Evans. Isabel Evans-Ramirez and Jesse Ramirez. Michael Guerin. Jeffrey, Nancy and Elizabeth Parker. Amy and Maria Deluca. Jim and Kyle Valenti.

He had been grateful that they had included everyone. He had idly wondered at his designation, ultimately assuming the ‘5’ meant he was the fifth alien since the infamous crash. As for the rest of the contract, the words had blurred in front of him as the most important aspect had been confirmed. The specifics of his custody were meaningless. He was theirs to do what they wished.

He dared a look at the others who were all frozen in horror as they watched his younger self make a deal with the devil.

A pen was offered to him.

About to take it, Max cleared his throat to speak, but before he could say a word a different voice spoke up off screen with clear disdain. “Second thoughts?”

Glancing towards the voice, Max’s hands briefly shifted, once more creating a dull clinking. “I just have one question before I sign.”

Choosing to indulge his prisoner, the general prompted Max to ask it with a wave of his hand.

“I will do my best to answer your questions, but as my last capture by the Unit showed, you still know more about me…and my kind” Max said that last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “But they didn’t believe me when I honestly told them I didn’t know. Will my friends and family still be safe if I truly don’t know the answer?”

The general seemed to consider the request. A hissed protest came from behind, but he held up a hand to halt the dissent. Facing Max head on he offered, “If we find any evidence proving you lied to us then this deal” he paused for added effect, “will be null and void.”

Max seemed about to say one more thing, but was stopped by a sibilated, “Don’t push it.” Instead, he bowed his head in acceptance. He fumbled with the pen and scrawled his name where the general pointed.

Taking the contract, the general added his own signature, and an addendum of what they had just agreed to. Upon completion, he placed the contract into a file, and as he stood he formally stated, “We accept your terms of surrender.”

“T. O. S.” Liz whispered in anguished realization. Her hands were clasped, the knuckles turning white. With a brief glance to Max, who was now staring at the floor, she turned her attention back to the screen.

There was a permanently lost look on Max’s face. He stared out blankly, any spark of life in his eyes extinguished.

Addressing to those off screen, the general instructed, “Prep him for transfer.”

With that a hood was pulled over Max’s head, though he gave no reaction as it happened.

Unable to hold back anymore, Liz stood up and implored Max, “What did you do?”

Max had been hiding his head the last few minutes, but at that he straightened up and firmly asserted, “What I had to.” Though taking in the barely held back tears on Liz’s face his facade easily cracked, his voice trembling as he answered, “to keep you…” He paused looking at each one of them in turn. “…all of you… safe.” The emphasis on the word safe was filled with desperation.

With a rough swipe at the side of his eyes, he once more held himself straight and addressed all of them. “So as you can see… there is no need for any of you to feel guilty… to apologize to me.” He met the distressed expressions on all of their faces, pausing at Isabel’s pale and pinched face. “It’s not your fault. I chose to be there.”

“No! Just… no, you’re wrong!” Michael ground out from his seat. He too stood up, his fists still clenched.

Max watched him; his expression obstinate.

Michael could only shake his head in disbelief. He pointed towards the computer, “That never should have been a choice you had to make.”

Max’s expression softened slightly. “I still would do it,” he quietly asserted.

With a heavy sigh, Michael chose not to argue. With a vague wave in the direction of the others, “They don’t owe you an apology… but I do.” Michael felt everyone’s attention on him, but he pushed through his discomfort to express what he had wanted to say to Max this whole time. “I never should have left. My idea to separate was a bad one. All that time you said it— I believe it now. We are stronger together.”

With clear pride and awe, he looked at Liz and Kyle, “They’re the reason we got you out. You should have seen it. They were amazing.”

Remembering the flashes of his rescue Liz had shared with him, Max smiled in gratitude, his eyes mirroring the same awe Michael had just expressed.

“I mean it this time, Maxwell. No more running. I’m staying.” His voice was steady and sincere. After what the past year had been like, he now knew how important it was to stay together. And truth be told, he needed them all together. He craved the constant connections he was able to have with his loved ones. Being with Maria again, he knew without a doubt he wouldn't be able to leave her behind again.

Max searched Michael’s eyes and saw he was resolute with his promise. He reached out a hand to him, and Michael strongly clasped it pulling him in for a hug. “Whatever we have to face—we’re doing it together,” he insisted in Max’s ear.

As the hug broke, Max saw everyone was now standing around him. “What he said,” Kyle spoke, and the others nodded. Max smiled, again lifting a hand to remove the tears beginning to pool in his eyes.

A moment later he embraced Isabel, whispering in her ear, “I’m sorry, I didn’t let you in.”

“Don’t you ever shut me out again,” she admonished.

Pushing a few stray strands from her face, he avowed, “Promise.”

Grasping his hand, Isabel warned, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Kyle glibly remarked, “It’s okay if you don’t let me in.”

Max looked over at Kyle, but the usual irritation had given way to fondness. “Thanks for not giving up.”

“It’s the least I could do after you saved all of our lives.”

Max gave him a nod in acceptance.

Maria came up to him and insisted, “I’m sorry I ever believed those agents.”

Max offered her a hug in comfort. “That makes two of us,” he conceded with regret.

Barely a moment later, Liz crashed into his chest. She held onto him tightly, as if he would disappear at any moment. Max wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss on top of her head. There was no more need for words between the two. Now all they needed was physical reassurance the other was there and wasn’t going anywhere.

The others slowly disappeared into the kitchen to enjoy Isabel’s pancakes leaving the two soulmates alone.

Not willing to let go, they swayed slightly to a silent song only they heard. Lifting her up, Max kissed Liz. Their connection was instant; sorrow and relief mixing with the dizzying array of stars and passionate sighs.

As their lips separated, Liz finally found her voice. “A life without you is not a life I want.”

A myriad of emotions passed over Max’s face, still unable to believe his fortune. Drawing her in for another kiss, he whispered after, “You are my life.”

Once more, they found themselves nuzzled on the couch. Liz sighed happily as she leaned against his shoulder. He breathed in the hint of vanilla and strawberry from her freshly washed hair. Noticing Liz was resting her eyes, Max let his mind wander. As much as he had been heartened by everyone’s response, he still knew this couldn’t last. For the moment, everyone had made him believe he could live a normal life. One where he was free and surrounded by those he loved.

But sooner or later the government would come for him again. And this time, they wouldn’t hold back. His back tensed as he recalled all the images the agents had shown him.

Liz murmured, “Everything okay?”

Looking down at her, he felt his heartbeat return to normal, though his back still remained tense. “Yeah,” he lied. He felt like a heel for lying, but it was nothing compared to the secret he harboured. Would she still want a life with him after she knew the truth about that night? Even if she forgave him, he knew he couldn’t forgive himself. How could he protect her and provide a good life for her, if he was so weak? That he could be so easily tricked into such a betrayal?

He felt a light touch on his arm. Looking down at Liz once more, he saw her studying him carefully.

“We’re in this together, Max. Anything you want or need to say— tell me,” she coaxed.

He pulled her close, but coward that he was he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

Michael had been right that they had all worked brilliantly together. But then was he really needed? What could he offer? They all were clearly on the run. So yet again he had uprooted their lives just for existing.

“Have you had breakfast?” Liz asked.

“I’m not hungry,” Max replied.

But then his traitorous stomach growled.

“Sounds like you could eat.” Liz dryly commented. At his silence, Liz offered, “I can bring you something if you want to stay here?”

He nodded. “Thanks,” he said in a small voice.

Once she entered the kitchen, Max stood up and walked to the window. He carefully positioned himself to stay hidden by the curtains. Gazing out at the street, a dark car caught his notice. His breath lodged in his throat. Apparently, they had found him sooner than he thought. Trying to think of how and where to escape, he saw a familiar figure exit the car.

Approaching the doorway was none other than Cal Langley.
Last edited by behrinthecity on Tue Mar 10, 2020 3:06 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 52A 3/8/20 (WIP)

Post by keepsmiling7 » Mon Mar 09, 2020 7:58 am

The ultimate martyrdom........Max surrenders.....
Will Cal be able to save the day??

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