The Son Also Rises (CC ALL,MATURE) {Complete}

[Midwest Max]

Part Eleven

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Nate flinched as the words flew out of an angry Michael Guerin’s mouth. “I don’t know what it means,” he confessed, still shaken from his encounter with the mysterious Agent Darmon.

They were gathered in Michael’s room and it was now just after three in the morning. Soon after Darmon’s apparent evaporation, the rented SUV had pulled into the motel parking lot and Nate had met Isabel and Michael as they’d gotten out. Needless to say, Michael had been more than irritated to find Nate outside of his room; Isabel had immediately looked alarmed, however.

“And what were you doing outside?” Michael demanded, his face red as he glared down at Nate, who was shivering in a chair by the door. Alyssa was at his side, rubbing his shoulder and looking worried.

“I wanted a soda,” Nate lied tiredly, staring at the floor. He’d yet to develop the ability to lie while directly looking at someone.

“A soda?” Michael thundered.

“Michael,” Isabel said in warning. “Keep your voice down. We don’t want to draw attention, remember?”

Michael blew out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair as an uncomfortable silence settled over the room. On the bed, Jeremy stared blearily into space, obviously still struggling to awaken. In an instinctive, protective gesture, Isabel walked over to him and rubbed his back in comfort.

“Let’s think about this rationally,” she began, trying to maintain some semblance of peace. “What could ‘ancient ones’ mean?”

“It can’t mean anything,” Michael snapped, raising his head again. Nate was taken aback at something new, however – the man didn’t seem pissed, he seemed frustrated…like he knew something Nate didn’t.

“It might,” Isabel said calmly. “You of all people should know by now that anything is possible.”

“But this can’t be possible, Iz.”

“What are you talking about, Daddy?” Alyssa asked.

Michael gave Isabel a defeated look and shook his head. “It’s just…” He seemed to struggle for words. “Nate can’t have seen Agent Darmon this evening, sweetie. It’s not possible.”

“I did see him,” Nate defended, his tone level. “As sure as I’m seeing you now.”

Michael shook his head. “Isabel and I found out some information tonight, Nate.” For once, the confrontation was gone from his voice. “The person you know as Agent Darmon is dead.”

Nate felt his breath catch in his chest. It couldn’t be. He’d seen him, he’d touched him. Alyssa drew in a quick breath and put her hand to her mouth. Jeremy’s dark eyes were round.

“I saw him,” Nate said slowly. He turned to Isabel, pleading for understanding. “I’m not making it up, Aunt Isabel. I saw him.”

Isabel left Jeremy’s side and went to kneel before her nephew. She took his shaking hands into hers. “I believe you, Nate. Stranger things have happened.” He saw in her eyes that she truly did believe him, like she understood that the dead could talk if they wanted to.

“What do we do?” Alyssa asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Isabel’s gaze shifted over Nate’s shoulder to the young girl, who was looking more freaked by the moment. “I think for now we assume that Agent Darmon was for real. We need to figure out his message.”

“Why are the dead always so cryptic?” Jeremy asked sleepily. Nate cocked his head and regarded him curiously – it almost sounded as though the boy communicated with them on a regular basis.

“Indians?” Alyssa offered. “Could they be the ancient ones?”

“They like to be called Native Americans,” Jeremy corrected, yawning.

Alyssa shrugged. “Okay, whatever. Did Uncle Max have any contacts in one of the tribes?”

Isabel looked to Michael, who shook his head slowly. “River Dog is long gone,” she mused quietly. “He was our only contact, that we know of.”

River Dog? Nate hung his head, held his temples in his hands. Who was River Dog? How come every time he thought he had a grip on his history, something new cropped up? There weren’t any pictures of River Dog in Alyssa’s picture history book that she’d given him as a birthday present last spring.

While the others tried to piece together what “ancient” meant in a state where everything was old and fossilized, Nate’s eyes settled on the newspaper that Michael had cast onto the floor by the bed, the one that had announced Maria’s return to the states. The entertainment page had flipped over revealing the travel section. The large picture at the top of the page was of a very massive skeleton being excavated from the earth. The headline read – Mammoth Site Closed for Repairs.

A rush of unbelievable pain raced through Nate’s body and he let out a gasp.

“Nate?” Alyssa said in concern, her voice a mile away. “You okay?”

Tears rose to his eyes as he felt the sharp pain in all of his nerves, his muscles stretched and protesting. For one split second, he felt Max’s spirit slide through his conscious, a plea for help. The icy spot on his chest suddenly throbbed.

“He’s there,” Nate gasped, pointing at the paper. As sure as he’d known that he had seen Agent Darmon, Nate knew that was where Max would be.

All heads in the room turned to the fallen newspaper.

“Where, Nate?” Isabel asked, her voice strained.

“There,” he gasped, closing his eyes against the agony and pointing at the paper again.

Isabel jumped to her feet and picked up the paper. She looked at in confusion, not comprehending what Nate was trying to tell her. “Sweetie, please help me,” she said, a hint of desperation in her tone.

The pain was gone from Nate’s body, abating slowly. He breathed evenly, trying to forget what he’d felt. “The fossils,” he said tiredly. “Wherever they are, that’s where Max is.”

Michael’s eyebrows were drawn together in disbelief. He went to stand behind Isabel, scanned the article quickly. “It’s an archeological site in Hot Springs,” he paraphrased. “It says that it’s closed for repairs of some kind.” He shook his head. “Why would Max go there? It’s a public place.”

“It’s not public right now,” Alyssa countered. “Not if it’s closed.”

“But why would he be there? It doesn’t make sense.”

And it didn’t make sense. This wasn’t an army base or an alien spaceship or some place the group needed to rescue Max from. It was an archeological dig protected by an arena-like roof. It made absolutely no sense why one lost alien would find his way there, especially if he were capable of leaving.

But Nate knew he was there. He was sure of it. “Maybe that’s where Agent Darmon left him,” he offered. “Maybe that’s what he was here to tell me.”

“Then why didn’t he just say ‘I left Max with the elephants’?” Michael snarked.

“The dead lack the ability to be specific,” Jeremy said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Besides, maybe he didn’t know what they were.”

“No,” Michael argued. “Max isn’t there.”

Nate nodded. “He is.”

“How do you know?”

Nate shook his head. “I can’t explain it. I just know. We need to go there.”

“Absolutely not.”

Despair flooding Nate’s mind as tears came to his eyes. He hated Michael Guerin, hated that he wouldn’t listen to him, hated that Max was probably dying as they argued with one another. Isabel crossed over to Michael to debate the issue, but her words were lost on Nate. He turned his face toward Alyssa, who was standing in shock behind him, her dark eyes wet at the corners.

“I know it’s true,” he whispered to her, his bottom lip trembling. “I know he’s there.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “I believe you.”

“ – no, Iz, we’re not going there,” Michael was saying as Nate tuned back in. “It could be a trap. Darmon is dead. Nate had never had a vision before and now all of a sudden he sees dead people? And then he looks at a paper and knows that’s where Max is? Isn’t that a little convenient?”

“Maybe his powers are developing, Michael,” Isabel pleaded. They were talking about him like he wasn’t even in the room.

“Please,” Michael spat. “He hasn’t shown the ability to do much at all, Iz. Someone has mindwarped him into all of this. Open your eyes.”

Nate watched the display and knew what it was that he needed to do. Slowly, he rose to his feet, his jaw set in determination. “I’m going to Hot Springs,” he said levelly. “You can argue all you want, but I’m going. Now.”

As he turned for the door, Michael blocked his path. “You can’t do this.”

Nate looked into his eyes for a long moment. “Yes, I can. And I will. I’m not a child you can command. I’m not a subordinate to you. I’m an adult and I know what I need to do. You can come if you want, but if you want to stay behind then get out of my way. You’re wasting my time.”

Michael looked mildly thrown, to the point where he actually stepped out of Nate’s way.

Nate looked at Alyssa. “Are you coming?”

Alyssa looked over his shoulder at her father, then nodded solemnly. Nate took her hand and headed for the parking lot.

“Wait for me!” Jeremy called, running behind them with his shoes in his hand.

Still shaking, Nate climbed behind the wheel of the SUV and reached for the ignition – Michael had the keys.

Alyssa climbed in the passenger seat and Jeremy jumped in the back.

“He took the keys,” Nate said glumly, wondering where he’d ever be able to rent a car at this time of the morning.

“I can hotwire it,” Jeremy announced proudly and started to lean between the seats.

There was a rap on Nate’s window and he jumped, turned to find Michael on the other side of the glass. Frowning, he lowered the window about an inch, just enough to address the man.

“I’m going,” he said sternly.

“I know you are,” Michael relented. “Let me drive.”

Nate looked at him warily, not wanting to trust him. Then Isabel appeared at Michael’s side and he knew that she wouldn’t betray him in that way. Reluctant, Nate pushed open the driver’s door and stepped to one of the back doors. To his relief, Michael did indeed get behind the wheel. Alyssa looked back at Nate, who was squished in the middle between Isabel and Jeremy; her face was full of surprise and relief.

Michael adjusted the rearview mirror and regarded Nate. “You hadn’t better be wrong, Junior.”

The horizon was just starting to lighten as the group reached Hot Springs. In the co-pilot seat, Alyssa searched the map from the rental agency and directed Michael where to turn. Soon they came across a brown, domed building that looked like a miniature arena. The parking lot around it was entirely vacant. Michael pulled into a spot near the entrance and the group looked at the building, studying it like an insect beneath the microscope.

“Let’s check the perimeter first,” Michael suggested. “Before we go inside.”

Isabel nodded and got out, pulling Nate behind her. The group spilled onto the asphalt and divided into two groups – Michael, Alyssa and Jeremy in one, Isabel and Nate in the other. They walked the circular building, checking for anything out of the ordinary. Isabel pointed to vents and doors, all which seemed to be secure. They rounded the building and met the others by the entrance. Michael glanced at each of them in turn, then placed his hand over the lock securing the doors.

“Same groups,” he said quietly. “Keep your guard up. There will be a lot of corners and hiding places in there.”

They all nodded their understanding, then waited patiently while Michael used his powers to open the door. They passed through a silent visitor’s center, their motions deliberate and stealthy. Michael pointed in one direction and then to his group, signaling they would go that way. Isabel nodded and pointed Jeremy in the other.

The first room they came to was a small space with a television mounted near the ceiling. It wasn’t a security monitor, but rather a device by which to introduce tourists to the exhibit. The room was tiny, with no windows and no chairs, obviously a staging area. They glanced around the room, then proceeded to the double doors on the far end.

As soon as Isabel used her powers to open the doors, Nate felt the wind nearly knocked from his lungs. She put a hand on his arm to steady him. He nodded that he was okay and urged her to continue forward. She did so reluctantly, concern on her pretty face.

The room they entered was massive – the dig site itself. It was as though someone had built a roof over several football fields without clearing away the debris first. The ground was all tan rock and dirt in various stages of excavation. Around the perimeter of the dig ran a wooden walkway.

Nate felt a pain in his side, a hitch in his breathing, an undeniable attraction to an area a hundred yards away. Wincing past the pain, he broke into a run, his boots thumping against the walkway.

“Nate!” Isabel whispered loudly in his wake. Shortly, he heard her footsteps closely behind him.

He didn’t care that she was back there. All he cared about was the pain in his soul and the intense tightening of the area over the seal. He ran blindly until he felt the attraction getting stronger. Slowing to a jog, he starting peering over the railing of the walkway, looking for anything that looked like a broken alien.

And he found it.

Below him, probably fifteen feet or so, Nate saw a crumpled form tucked partially beneath the walkway. His heart jerked in his chest. He knew it was Max, lying on his side like just another prehistoric creature waiting to be uncovered. Drawing in a deep breath, he swung his legs over the railing and let himself fall, praying he didn’t break a leg when he landed.

“Nate!” Isabel squealed as he lit on the hard ground.

Nate rolled to the side, then quickly scrambled to his knees. His bones protested the fall, but he ignored the pain as he reached for his father. When he rolled Max over, Max gave a cry of pain, like a wounded animal. A little piece of Nate wanted to jump for joy – Max was alive!

But then he got a good look at him and his hope fell to his toes. Once a strong man, Max now appeared emaciated, his skin pale and bruised, bloody from some unspeakable trauma. Nate could tell by the way that his limbs moved that he had many broken bones; from Max’s labored breathing, Nate guessed there was some internal damage as well. He simply looked like he’d been hit by a semi.

“Max,” Nate said, pulling the man’s shoulders into his lap. “I’m here, Max.”

Max’s eyes rolled beneath his swollen lids and Nate gave him a little shake.

“No, don’t go,” Nate pleaded, feeling tears start to well up in his eyes. “We’ve got you now, Max. You’re safe.”

Max whimpered, his eyelids fluttering with the strain of maintaining consciousness.

“Max,” Nate cried, his voice coming out choked as Isabel landed a few feet away from them. “Don’t go, Max.” Nate closed his eyes, willing away the knowledge that Max was broken beyond repair. “Dad…”

Max’s breath caught in his chest and he forced his eyes open. “Nate,” he gasped.

Nate opened his eyes quickly and reached for the hand Max was waving, looking for something to hold onto. “I’m here.”

“Nate…take care of my girls…”

With that, Max choked, a fine mist of blood spewing from his mouth. He gagged, a sickening gurgle deep in his throat, as his body stiffened.

And then went limp.

tbc

~~~~~~~

The mammoth dig is a real place - http://www.mammothsite.com/Tour.html

[Midwest Max]

Part Twelve

Nate was only vaguely aware of the thunder of footsteps on the wooden walkway above him. In his arms, Max was still breathing, but Nate knew that death was only minutes – perhaps moments – away. Each gasp that entered Max’s lungs was erratic, his body rapidly beginning to shut down.

Nate lifted his head and looked at Isabel, who had fallen to her knees on the other side of her brother. Her face was a motionless mask of sorrow, tears sliding silently down her smooth cheeks.

“Fix him,” Nate managed to choke out between his own tears. “Heal him, Aunt Isabel.”

She swallowed and shook her head slowly, apology evident in her dark eyes. “I can’t.”

Nate’s mind rapidly went over the rest of the group, who was above him trying to find a safe way down to the dig site. “Who then?” he asked. One of them had to have the ability to heal. Losing Max just wasn’t an option.

Isabel shook her head again, this time unable to speak.

No one.

No one could heal Max. Devastation rolled over Nate like a tidal wave – how bitterly ironic that the man who had devoted his life to saving and protecting the world was now without a savior of his own.

After all, who healed the healer?

Pain overtaking him, Nate closed his eyes and tightened his grip on his father. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. They’d only been reunited less than a year – there was so much that Nate didn’t know, didn’t understand. And it wasn’t fair that Max had been able to spend so little time with the child he’d given up. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end.

Nate thought of Liz back home in Boston, cradling her baby, worry clouding her mind, putting faith in them to return Max safely. They were going to betray her, every one of them. He couldn’t bear the thought, couldn’t bear the pain. In his arms, Max convulsed a couple of times, his breath coming in a short rasp.

No, Nate thought, his mind filled with grief. Don’t go yet, Max.

“Max,” Isabel cried softly. Then her pitch changed entirely to a near shriek. “Oh, God, Nate!”

Nate popped open his eyes, then followed her line of sight – she was staring at his shirt. He looked down, dreading what he was going to see, horrified when his suspicions were true. The seal was now burning so brightly that it could be seen through his shirt. The skin over it felt hot, feverish. Frantic, Nate looked down into Max’s face – his lips had gone blue and he was no longer breathing.

The rule of Antar had passed from father to son.

“No,” Nate murmured, then anger flared within him. “NO!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. He clenched his fist tightly around Max’s hand, willing him not to leave this earth.

Then the room spun.

Nate gasped, his anger flooding away quickly. In the back of his head, he heard a warning – Don’t let go. Fear and panic raced through his veins as his vision became clouded and he could no longer see those around him. His heart thudded wildly in his chest, the flight instinct telling him to run. But he’d heard that warning and willed himself to hold on until he found out what was happening.

In a confusing barrage of images, Nate saw Agent Darmon, mortally wounded, tucking something beneath a set of wooden platforms before crawling into a corner and evaporating into a pile of dust. He felt cold hands across his face, his arms, his lungs, raking life from his body, laughing in torment as his blood drained onto the floor. Ice water crept into his veins, making breathing difficult; pain raced through his body.

Then he saw a dark-haired woman, laughing and playful, parading around the house in her underwear. The pain was all gone, replaced by images of her, of remembrances of her laugh. Nate saw a baby, kicking in anger as powder puffed across her bare bottom. Oddly, he found the scene humorous.

The images suddenly came faster and Nate couldn’t comprehend all of them – a gunshot, a promise, dark eyes filled with tears, a friend dead in the ground. A dance, a kiss, a parking meter sparkling like the Fourth of July. A friend, beaten, too proud to ask for help. A blond girl, lost, looking for those who were like her. Betrayal, an explosion, the pain of watching an SUV pull away with an infant in the back seat.

Not yet. Don’t let go yet.

Pain gripped Nate between his temples and he winced as he felt the hard fist clench around his brain. He was vaguely aware of a trembling in his limbs, of the strain on his throbbing heart. But he trusted the voice – he would hold on even if it killed him.

The movie in his mind continued. He saw creatures unlike anything he’d ever seen, large rooms full of these beings, some of them angry, some of them only wanting peace. He saw a little bungalow near the ocean, felt the glow of candlelight on a warm summer’s night, the sea breeze drifting through white curtains, across his skin. Tranquility set over him, because he knew he wasn’t alone…

With a cry, Nate fell backward onto the dirt, unable to catch his breath, his body covered in a thick layer of sweat. He struggled against the pain, against the panic of suffocation, until he had no energy left. He thought he felt small hands on his arm, thought he heard a voice calling his name.

But then none of it mattered as everything around him went black…

“Jeremy, watch his head.”

The voice drifted into Nate’s throbbing brain and he thought he recognized it. It belonged to someone who hated him. Oh, yeah – his father-in-law-to-be.

“I didn’t drop him.” That voice was defensive, young, Jeremy Ramirez.

“Okay. Come over here and help Isabel with Max. I’ll get him.”

Nate lacked the strength to open his eyes, lacked the strength to ask where he was and who was touching him. Inside, he was oddly numb, like nothing mattered. He was neither frightened nor content. It was kind of like being on morphine – he simply existed.

He felt himself being propelled upward and the motion nearly made him ill. The world seemed to be upside down.

“It’s okay, pumpkin.” Michael’s voice, drifting far away. “I’ve got him…”

Nate drifted in and out of consciousness; he got the sensation of moving, like he was inside of a car or something, but he couldn’t retain a thought long enough to determine that for sure. Exhausted, he let himself slide into a dream world.

He dreamed of a pretty blond girl with a sharp wit and a volatile temper – but never with him. With him, she was comfort and warmth, a soft breast upon which to lay his weary head. He hypnotized himself with the rhythm of her breathing, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. Her light perfume drifted to his nose, a ghost of a scent, barely there at all. It was easy to lose himself in her soft voice, her gentle fingers in his hair.

While he drifted without direction, he saw a world without fighting, without discord, with acceptance and understanding. He felt responsible to make it happen, but that did not frighten him this time. This was his path – to make the world a better place. As he accepted that, he plunged a little farther, into total darkness…

The next time Nate opened his eyes, he had to blink against the harsh sting of daylight. Even though the curtains of the motel room were drawn, enough light was filtering through to make him wince. His eyes weren’t the only thing that hurt.

One time, Nate and a friend had gone rock climbing, an activity they had never taken part in. They had no training. They had no conditioning. At the end of the day, they were bruised and scraped and every muscle in their foolish bodies was sore. That day didn’t hold a candle to this one.

For a quick moment, Nate held his breath for fear the next one would hurt as badly as the last. He released the air slowly, the muscles along his ribcage groaning in relief as they relaxed. More coherent now, he at least knew where he was and that something was different. Really different.

Nate blinked against the light again, then saw a shadow cross his eyelids. When he opened his eyes, he saw Alyssa sitting on the edge of the bed, her body blocking the light. Her face was red and puffy, but there was no evidence of recent tears.

“That better?” she asked.

Nate nodded, wished he hadn’t as his neck protested the movement.

Alyssa touched his face with her fingertips, biting her lip, and he feared the flood was not averted quite yet. “How do you feel?”

He couldn’t lie to her. He frowned as an answer.

“Could you make it to the bath?” she offered hopefully. “Maybe the heat will help.”

Nate did a quick inventory. Could he walk that far? A dull, fatigued ache in his thighs thought not. He shook his head.

Alyssa looked downcast, then looked into her lap, where she was wringing her hands together. Coherence rudely reminded him of the last thing of which he would ever remember clearly about this day – Max dying. Guilt and sorrow ripped through his soul and his eyes welled up with unstoppable tears.

Perhaps startled, Alyssa looked at him in surprise. Twisting her body, she lay down beside him and gingerly put her arms around him.

“Baby, it’s okay,” she said soothingly. “You’re okay now.”

Nate couldn’t help the sob that escaped his throat. He was so tired, so weary, he simply couldn’t deal with the death of his father. A father he’d known for too short of period of time.

“Sweetheart,” Alyssa whispered, kissing his cheek tenderly, her own eyes filling with tears. “Sh, it’s okay.”

“I…” Nate choked.

She shook her head. “You don’t need to say thing. You just rest, okay?”

“I couldn’t,” he continued, ignoring her soft words. “I couldn’t help him, Alyssa.” With that, he fell into sobs, his body trembling with the stress.

When he regained some of his composure, he found his pretty girlfriend looking at him cautiously. He wanted to lift his hand to wipe away his tears, but he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gasping in a breath.

Alyssa’s stunned expression melted into a warm smile and she did what he couldn’t – cleared the wet tracks from his cheeks. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Nate.”

He nodded. “I do. If only I had…”

“If only you had what?”

“If only I had a power of some kind. If only I’d been able to help.” He closed his eyes, lost in grief.

Alyssa touched his face with her fingertips, then kissed him softly on the lips. “Open your eyes,” she whispered.

Nate did as he was told, but found looking at her difficult.

“You don’t know, do you?” she asked, cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Know what?” Please, tell me it was all a bad dream…

“Uncle Max is next door, in Daddy’s room.”

Nate cringed. He didn’t want to know what they’d done with the body.

One corner of Alyssa’s lip lifted into a smile. “Are you curious why you feel the way you do?”

Well, now that she mentioned it – yeah. Why did he feel so shitty?

She brushed his hair out of his eyes, hers filled with complete adoration. “He’s alive.” Tears pooled in her eyes again, tears of happiness. “He’s alive because you healed him.”

tbc

Merry Christmas

[Midwest Max]

Hey, everyone! Thanks for your patience! Hope everyone had a nice holiday


Part Thirteen

Max was alive.

But Max wasn’t necessarily well.

Nate stood in the doorway of Michael’s motel room, his eyes fixed on his father who was sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard, his eyes fixed on his feet. Max hadn’t even looked up when Nate had opened the door. His skin was unblemished and of a healthy tone but he still looked thin, his eyes vacant. He was a gracious person normally and the fact that he hadn’t come to thank Nate for saving his life had sparked concern in Nate’s mind and as soon as he’d been able, he’d pulled himself out of bed and journeyed to the room next door.

It had been almost a day since Nate had healed Max and some of his strength had returned to him, mostly due to Alyssa’s tender pampering and an extremely long nap. He felt okay, like he’d just battled a nasty bought of the flu, yet not quite up to snuff. He had the feeling, however, that he was faring infinitely better than his father.

On the other side of the room, Isabel was leaning against the dresser, unnecessary apology in her eyes. “How are you doing?” she asked Nate.

He glanced at her and gave a little nod of his head to assure he was going to be okay, then he silently gestured toward Max.

She shook her head slightly, then said, “Max? Did you see Nate was here?”

Max lifted his head and regarded his sister without much reaction, turned slowly to look at his son. He smiled, but it was empty and Nate had the impression that it was only an act of politeness rather than recognition.

“You remember Nate,” Isabel continued. “Right?”

Max glanced at her again, then looked back to his socks.

Nate swallowed hard, his eyebrows lifted in grief. Had he done something wrong? Was Max somehow damaged because he hadn’t healed him correctly? Even worse, Nate didn’t know how he was supposed to heal – it had just happened.

Isabel looked to her nephew and gave a sad shake of her head.

“I was going to walk over to that convenience store across the street and get a soda,” Nate said, raising his eyebrows meaningfully. “Did you want to come with me?”

Isabel nodded, then banged on the wall. “Jeremy Ramirez,” she called loudly. “Get over here.”

A few seconds later, Jeremy appeared at the door like an eager puppy. “What did I miss?” He grabbed his belt loops and hauled his pants up, an act that made him look eight years old.

“Nothing,” Isabel said, straightening. “Why don’t you keep Uncle Max company while Nate and I walk over to that store across the street? Michael and Alyssa went to find a travel agent and someone should stay with him while we’re gone.”

“Cool!” Jeremy said, hurrying into the room and plopping down beside his mute uncle. Max turned his head and looked expressionlessly at the boy. “What do you say we get some porn on pay per view, eh, Uncle Max?”

“Jeremy,” Isabel threatened, but there was amusement in her tone.

Jeremy looked downcast, staring at his feet just like Max had been. Nate silently wondered if there was something about the bed that made people do that…

“Do you want anything?” Isabel asked. “Something to drink?”

“Gatorade,” Jeremy answered. “Please.”

“Max?”

Max looked at his sister but didn’t reply.

Isabel sighed and motioned for the door, giving Nate leave to go. “I’ll get you something,” she said over her shoulder to Max.

Once outside, Nate let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Holy…” he began.

Isabel nodded in understanding, then wrapped her arms around him and gave him a smothering hug. “I’m sorry I haven’t been to see you,” she said over his shoulder. “I’ve had my hands full.”

Nate released her, a frown on his face. “It’s okay. What did I do wrong?”

Isabel lifted an eyebrow. “Nothing, I don’t think.” She smiled at him and touched his cheek. “Thank you, Nate. You don’t know how much Max means to me.” She appeared about ready to cry so she busied herself by digging in her pocket for money. “Do you really feel like walking over there or was that just an excuse to talk to me?”

“Both,” Nate said, smiling. “Only, can you not walk too fast?”

She nodded and started toward the store using slow steps.

“Has he been like that since…um, since he woke up?” Nate asked.

Isabel nodded. “Pretty much.”

“Is that normal?”

She glanced at him and shrugged. “What’s normal?”

She had a point there. Nate wasn’t ‘normal’. None of them were ‘normal’.

Isabel looped her hand around his arm at the elbow as they walked, a gesture of comfort. “We don’t know what Max went through to get in the state we found him in,” she said gently. “We don’t really know why he is this way.”

Something flashed through Nate’s mind, a memory that wasn’t his, icy cold fingers slowly robbing him of his very life.

“What?” Isabel asked, her brow furrowed.

He shook his head. “Nothing.” He drew in a long breath and released it slowly. “I’m still just trying to get a grasp on what happened is all. It’s kind of…”

“Unbelievable?” she offered.

He snorted a light laugh and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, imagine my surprise,” she chuckled, then pulled him to a stop. “There’s a truck coming.”

Without realizing it, they had made it all of the way to the road and Nate had almost stepped out in front of the truck. Apparently his senses were a little off, his body still recovering from healing Max. He gave Isabel a surprised look.

“Can’t have the healer wounded, can we?” she said jokingly, though there was a hint of nervousness in her voice. She looked a little ill.

“Aunt Isabel?” Nate asked after the truck passed. “Are you okay?”

She did her best to give him the Covergirl smile, but failed in the end. “Of course. I’m fine.”

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Okay,” she relented, pulling him across the street with her. “I’m not really fine – but I know I’ll be okay eventually. You see, it’s not the first time Max has almost died on me.”

As they stepped into the store, Nate remembered Max explaining that he’d “died” once and had to take the seal back from Michael. He hadn’t elaborated and Nate hadn’t pried, but now he wished he had. After all, Nate wasn’t sure what the status of the seal was at this point. It had seemed at the dig site that the seal had come to him, making him the heir. But now Max was alive, which meant he should be king. None of it made sense.

Isabel picked up some drinks and some munchies, paid for everything including Nate’s items and refused to take any money from him. Once outside again, she continued their conversation.

“I really can’t thank you enough for saving him, Nate.” Her eyes were full of emotion, her gratitude true. “Max means the world to me, and to see him like that…” Her words drifted off as did her gaze.

Nate put an arm around her shoulders and rubbed her arm in comfort. “I understand,” he said. “I’m glad I could help.”

She beamed at him, then led him across the street and back to the motel.

Nate grinned when he saw that the SUV had returned to the parking lot because that meant Alyssa was back but frowned slightly when he saw Michael approaching him. He didn’t have the energy to deal with his attitude. Always unabashed at her affection for Nate, Alyssa raced around the vehicle and threw herself into his arms, nearly bowling him over in the process.

“You’re up!” she squealed, pulling back and taking his face in her hands.

Behind him, Nate heard Isabel chuckle.

“I am,” he agreed, grinning at his girlfriend.

“So you’re all better now?” Alyssa asked giving him the once over.

“I will be soon, I think,” he laughed. Somehow he knew what she had in mind…dirty little thing.

“Alyssa, how about letting me and Nate talk for a minute,” Michael said, forever casting a shadow on anyone’s glee.

Alyssa’s smile faded as she looked into Nate’s eyes, but when she turned around she simply nodded at her father and followed Isabel into the motel room. Nate frowned again, looked at Michael without much patience.

Michael pursed his lips and gestured back to the SUV. “Let’s go pick up some lunch.”

Nate didn’t want to get in the car with him. He didn’t want lunch, especially if it meant sitting down somewhere with Michael. As he climbed into the passenger seat, however, he reasoned that Michael had probably meant to pick up lunch for everyone, so that in itself was a small comfort.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, Nate squished himself all of the way against the door. He wasn’t afraid of Michael – he just wanted as much distance as possible between them.

“So, how did you do it?” Michael asked, checking his rearview mirror.

Nate looked at him, his brow furrowed. “Do what?”

“Heal Max. How did you manage that?”

Nate blinked. Was he really going to get interrogated for that? Shouldn’t Michael be grateful that his friend was still alive? Was Nate never going to do anything right in his eyes? Unable to stop himself, he snorted in disgust.

“What’s that for?” Michael asked, glancing at him from behind the wheel.

“Why do you hate me so much?” Nate demanded, his gaze steady.

It was Michael’s turn to blink in surprise. “I don’t hate you.”

Nate’s eyebrows lifted sharply. “No? Well, I’d hate to see how you treat the people you do hate, then.” He rolled his eyes and turned his attention out the side window, his blood beginning to boil. Fuck this. Fuck him.

After a long silence, Michael pulled the car off the road and into the parking lot of an abandoned gas station. Nate set his jaw and looked at the man in defiance. Michael turned sideways in his seat to address him, his expression as frank as Nate had ever seen it.

“I don’t hate you,” he repeated. “Not in the slightest.”

“Then why are you always riding my ass?” Nate snapped back.

Michael bit his bottom lip and tossed a hand casually into the air. “I’ve just been trying to figure you out, Nate.”

“By being a prick to me?”

For once, it seemed like Michael was keeping his temper and Nate was finally losing his. Michael drew in a long breath before he spoke. “You see, I’ve been waiting.”

“For what?”

Michael looked out of the windshield of the car, his gaze seeming to drift far away, perhaps across time. “Alyssa has Isabel’s gift to dreamwalk. She also has my ability to blast things, get past locks, change the molecular structure of things. So does Jeremy. They all have abilities of their own, but it would also seem that our gifts are passed down to the next generation.”

Nate’s brow furrowed in confusion. Big deal – now Nate had Max’s gift to heal. What was the problem?

Michael met his gaze head on. “And now I know that Max’s child also has gifts.”

Nate shrugged. “So what?”

“So, all of our unique abilities are accounted for – healing, dreamwalking, stuff like that.” Michael worked his jaw. “All abilities except for one.”

Nate searched his mind for an explanation and came up with none. “I don’t understand.”

“You got your father’s abilities, Nate. How do I know you didn’t get your mother’s as well?”

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Part Fourteen

Being alone was easier than Nate had thought it would be. A bribe to Jeremy, a favor from Isabel; Nate got the impression that Isabel had done her share of sneaking around when she and Jesse were dating. He wasn’t sure why that would be, but she seemed to have no qualms with keeping Nate and Alyssa’s proximity a secret – she’d let them live together in her loft and now she was willing to let Alyssa swap places with Jeremy for the night so they could be together. Then again, maybe she also saw it as a convenient way to put Jeremy in a room with the one woman he wasn’t likely to hit on.

The flight was scheduled for the next day, around noon. They’d fly back to Denver, then to Boston from there. There had been a family meeting in Isabel’s room while Max had slept in Michael’s, Jeremy watching over him once again. They all agreed that while having Max back – at least physically – was a good thing, they couldn’t ignore the circumstances that had led to him being left for dead at the mammoth site. For now, they would take him home, get him settled in and then Michael would come back to investigate. At this point, they didn’t even know how many of Max’s old contacts were still living – Agent Darmon had been the one to endure the most over the years, and if he was gone…

So now the group waited for morning, for a bittersweet return to the east coast. Nate had spoken with Liz, who as expected was a jumble of emotions – elated that Max was a alive, but full of sorrow that he was so withdrawn from the world. From what Nate had gathered, Liz had “felt” Max slipping away, the pain filling her own soul as he’d drawn closer and closer to death. Shortly afterward, she’d felt a surge of life flow through her and knew in that instant that something major had happened in order to bring Max back to her. When she found out it was Nate, she couldn’t stop crying her gratitude, her tears producing some of his own. Her reaction was a Band-aid to Michael’s.

Alyssa reached out and cupped Nate’s cheek and he raised his eyes to look at her. It was after midnight as they sat facing one another on his bed in the motel, sleep evading both of them.

“Don’t be sad,” she said softly, using her thumb to caress his cheek.

Nate took her hand and gently pulled it away from his face, kept it firmly in his own. “What if he’s right? What if someday I do get that power?”

She shrugged her slim shoulders. “What if you do?”

His eyebrows rose sharply.

“Who cares?” she tacked on gently.

“Alyssa, it’s not a good thing to have,” he explained slowly, surprised that she didn’t get that. “Look at all of the evil my mother did with it.”

“All powers have the ability to do evil, Nate,” she said. “It’s all how you use them. Don’t you think that going into peoples’ heads while they sleep could be a bad thing?”

He looked down that the maroon and green comforter, a piece of linen one would only ever find in a motel. He could see where it would be easy to abuse that dreamwalking power, for sure. You could plant all kinds of suggestions in peoples’ heads, manipulate their subconscious into doing your will. Yes, that could be bad.

“Do you think being able to break and enter wherever we want is a good thing?” Alyssa asked next.

Nate shook his head.

“All powers can be bad,” she concluded. “It all depends on how you use them. So who cares if you have the mindwarping ability?” She disentangled her fingers from his, then laid her hand against his chest. “You have a good heart – I’ve seen it.”

He smiled softly at her.

Alyssa shook her head, smooth blond hair swaying with the motion. “I can’t imagine you ever doing what your mother did, Nate. You’re a good man.”

He felt a little lump form in his throat at her simple compliment – so much could be said in so few words.

“My dad is overprotective,” she continued, dropping her hand to his thigh. “She duped them – all of them. He’s never forgiven her for that. He’s never forgiven himself for that.”

A hint of realization tickled Nate’s mind – Michael didn’t hate him. Michael was afraid of him.

“I can’t change the way he feels,” Alyssa said. “But he can’t change the way I feel, either. I love you, Nate. I’ll always love you. Regardless of how Daddy feels about you.”

Nate smiled widely, knowing it was a big step for Alyssa to rebuff her father’s wishes in such a way. She was in for the long haul and she wasn’t backing down from the challenge. Alyssa was such a strong person, stronger than any Nate had ever met.

Unable to stop himself, he reached over and took her wrists in his hands, pulled her arms high above her head. He liked how the action shifted her breasts, liked the shape her body took. Starting at her waist, he smoothed his palms along her sides, then around to her tight abdomen, then finally over her breasts, their contours fascinating him.

Alyssa watched him with slightly amused, slightly aroused eyes. “Here,” she said, dropping her arms and watching the disappointment wash over his face. “Wouldn’t you like this better?” With that, she pulled her shirt over her head, let it drop behind her and remained with her arms curled behind her head.

Nate grinned, his hands curving around to her back to unclasp her bra. In seconds, her breasts were free before him; first he touched them with his fingertips, then with his lips, eliciting a soft sigh from her.

“The walls are thin,” she reminded him, her breaths coming deeper. “And the beds squeak – oh!”

Nate grinned at her, having nipped her nipple with his teeth. He’d figured out recently that her fascination with his nipples was actually a fascination with her own. Putting an arm around her waist, he pulled her body to his and kissed her hard, his body raging with his need for her.

“Don’t worry,” he said between kisses. “No one will know.” Parting from her, he ripped the top sheet from the bed and placed it on the floor, followed by both of the pillows. Then he took her hand and helped her down, covering her body with his. “Just try to not scream this time, okay?”

She giggled and covered her face in slight embarrassment.

Nate had had every intention of satisfying both of their needs at once, but when he started to pull her jeans from her body, he realized that there were many things they had yet to do, many things he’d never tried mostly because Annie found them disgusting. Tonight he had an overwhelming sense of adventure, a need to give Alyssa something selflessly, to try something he’d never done.

His expression serious, he pulled her panties down her legs, then took her behind the knees, spreading her legs wide. She looked so beautiful and trusting, lying there completely naked before him. Leaning over, he touched her smooth cheek, ran his thumb over her bottom lip, then bent to kiss her where she’d never been kissed before.

Alyssa let out a gasp. “Oh, God! What are you doing, Nate?”

Fumbling, that’s what he was doing. This was new to both of them. Briefly, he remembered asking Annie once if she’d wanted to try this and she’d used words like dirty, filthy and disgusting. So far in their relationship, Alyssa had found nothing dirty, filthy or disgusting – something for which Nate would be eternally grateful. Eventually he found his bearings and his rhythm, Alyssa rewarding him with sighs and soft moans. He took her hand in his, her fingers gripping his tightly.

Eventually he released her hand and let his travel up her body, over her quivering stomach, to the ridges of her ribs. He felt her heart beating heavily inside of her chest, not the normal rapid beat of their previous encounters but a thick, body-shaking thump – this act was producing an entirely different sensation for her. Mentally, Nate grinned to himself, proud that he could do this for her. His hand snaked over the curve of her breast, taking her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. As he squeezed, Alyssa’s body convulsed, nearly breaking his nose in the process. Her release came out in a muffled squeal and Nate raised his head to see her biting the pillow to stifle her scream.

As she gasped for air, her body gone limp, Nate crawled over her and laid his head against her chest, listening to her rapid breath and the labored beat of her heart; it was like music to his ears. Her fit body was covered in a layer of sweat, her stomach muscles still quivering slightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked after awhile, nuzzling one of her breasts.

Alyssa nodded, drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “God, Nate,” she sighed. “I think I blacked out there for a moment.”

He lifted his head in curiosity and she gave him a short nod of confirmation.

“I came and for one moment everything went black.” She laughed incredulously. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Nate blushed slightly, pointing downward. “Down there.”

“That was your first time?” she asked, her eyes round. “God, that only means you’re just going to get better…” She stared at the ceiling, apparently floored by the thought. Quickly, she snapped her gaze to his. “Did you like it?”

He nodded, grinning.

“Yeah, me too,” she agreed. “Can we do it again sometime?”

He nodded again and watched her face light up. Content, thoughts of evil powers chased to the shadows for the time being, he returned his head to her chest, holding her tightly against him. No matter what things awaited them, he knew this for sure – she loved him and she would stand by his side no matter what.

*****

The following morning, Jeremy and Alyssa managed to swap spots before being noticed. The group went about packing their bags - Max’s conspicuously missing among the pile - and gathered in Michael’s room. Isabel walked over to the chair where Max sat and knelt before him.

“You ready to go home, little brother?” she asked softly, brushing his bangs out of his dull eyes.

He nodded, though Nate couldn’t be sure if he’d actually comprehended the question or if it was a reflex.

Isabel smiled, a watered-down version of the Covergirl smile, and took Max by the hand. “Then come outside with me,” she prompted, pulling him to his feet.

Nate watched in wonder as she led his father away without a fuss. It seemed that on some basic level, Max trusted his sister. Whether or not he understood who she was remained to be seen, but at least she’d managed to get him to the car.

Alyssa wrapped her arm around Nate’s waist and gave him a squeeze. “He’ll be fine when we get him home,” she said in reassurance, though Nate thought it was just for his benefit and not anything she knew for sure.

The group piled into the SUV – Isabel, Max and Nate in the back, Michael, Alyssa and Jeremy stuffed in the front. Nate watched as Isabel took her brother’s head and laid it on her shoulder, her arm encircling him in comfort. It made his heart lurch to see her so tender with Max, to see Max so lost. This wasn’t the man Nate had met a year ago, wasn’t the strong, seemingly fearless leader of his people. Max had been reduced to this mute, battle-weary shell of himself.

“I want you to go back to school when we get home,” Michael was saying to Alyssa as they moved for the airport, his voice devoid of reprimand. “I don’t want you to fall too far behind.”

“I shouldn’t be,” she assured him. “We haven’t been gone all that long. I think I missed a test in history, but I should be able to make that up.” She swiveled in her seat to address Nate. “Don’t you think, honey?”

Nate cringed, waiting for Michael to knock the shit out of him for having his girlfriend address him with affection. On top of it, now the man knew that they not only shared an apartment – they shared classes as well.

“I would think so,” he answered quietly, caught Michael’s fleeting glance in the rearview mirror, then looking down at his shoes.

“I wanted to go to Deadwood,” Jeremy said wishfully as he watched the South Dakota landscape whiz past his window. “I wanted to play the slots.”

Isabel laughed lightly. “Sweetie, you need to be older than sixteen to gamble.”

Jeremy whirled in his seat, disbelief on his face. “No!”

She nodded and watched him deflate into a little Latino pile. Isabel chuckled and gave Nate a grin. He was about to ask Jeremy about Deadwood as a means to soothe his disappointment when Max suddenly gasped.

All eyes in the car shifted to him, his eyes round and full of terror. He was looked out the window, at the sky, his breath coming in quick gasps.

“Max,” Isabel said, obviously frightened. “What is it?”

He shook his head vigorously and struggled to get over her, reached for the door handle. Afraid he’d jump, Michael quickly pulled the car over to the side of the road, then whirled in his seat to help Isabel restrain their friend.

“Max!” Isabel cried. “Calm down, Max!”

Max let out a little cry, his body trembling as he fought weakly against them.

“Hold on, brother,” Michael said sternly but with more compassion than Nate had thought possible. “You’re okay.”

“Oh, God,” Alyssa said, her voice breathy. “It’s the plane…”

Nate craned his neck, saw a plane drifting across the sky. Its altitude was low, so he guessed they were very near the airport.

“He’s looking at the plane!” she said frantically.

“That’s ridiculous,” Michael countered, still struggling to keep Max in his seat. “Max isn’t afraid of planes.”

But the plane drifted over the horizon and Max immediately relaxed, falling into the same unresponsive heap he’d been a few moments before.

“Well, looks like his is now,” Alyssa finished.

The group in the SUV exchanged startled glances, everyone trying to catch their breath, baffled as to why such a small plane should cause such terror in Max.

“Well,” Isabel said, being the first to break the silence. “That was interesting.”

Michael nodded, his eyes fixed on Max.

“What do we do now?” Jeremy asked, his dark eyes round.

Michael looked at Iz. “Call Liz, Isabel. Get her on a plane to Roswell.”

“Roswell?” she echoed.

He shook his head. “There’s no way we’re getting him on a plane. Tell her to meet us there.” Nate thought he saw devastation in the man’s eyes. “She might be the only one who can get through to him.”

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Part Fifteen

It took seventeen hours to travel by car from Rapid City to Roswell. It may have taken longer if the group hadn’t stopped only to refuel, use the restrooms and grab fast food for their meals. They rotated driving, each time they stopped switching pilots. Everyone took a turn, everyone except for Max that was.

The sun went down as they traveled south, almost a straight line from point A to point B. The stars came out, the car fell silent, then the sun started to come up again as they neared Roswell. Isabel was behind the wheel, Max in the back sandwiched between Nate and Alyssa.

“Do your parents know we’re coming?” Michael asked from the passenger seat, speaking over Jeremy’s slumped, sleeping form.

Isabel nodded; Nate could see the fatigue in her eyes. In all of their eyes, actually. It had been a long day, a seemingly endless expanse of road, time somewhat distorted by the cover of darkness. He glanced past Max and found Alyssa smiling at him. He smiled back and realized that she looked a little excited. Then again, why shouldn’t she be? She was home. Even though she called Boston her residence and even though she lived there with Nate, Roswell would always be her first home.

Isabel pulled the SUV into the Evans’s driveway, then blew out a tired breath. “We’re here,” she said with a smile. She swiveled in the seat to look at her brother, perhaps looking from some spark of recognition. When she didn’t get it, the smile faded and she climbed out of the car.

“Uncle Max, we’re home,” Alyssa said happily, grabbing his arm. He looked at her without much response.

In the front seat, Jeremy’s head popped up. “What did I miss?” he mumbled, his words slurred.

As Nate was getting out of the vehicle, the front door of the house opened and Diane Evans spilled out, her face a mask of joy, worry and gratitude.

“Dude,” Jeremy said, leaning between the seats to address Nate through the open door. “She’s going to tweak your cheeks. Glad it’s you instead of me. Just warning you.”

He was right. Diane headed straight for Nate and pinched his cheeks before giving him a huge hug.

“Oh, thank you, Nate!” she spouted, squeezing the last ounce of air from his lungs. When she pulled back, Nate could see she was crying. “You saved my Max. You sweet, sweet boy!” She pinched him again, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment and trauma.

Then she whirled on Isabel, squeezing her as hard as she’d squeezed Nate.

“I’m okay, Mom,” Isabel said quietly. “Let’s take care of Max, okay?”

Nate reached into the SUV and tapped Max on the arm. Max turned to look at him, expressionless.

“Let’s go inside,” Nate suggested. “I’m sure you’re tired.” He turned to his grandmother. “He didn’t sleep the whole ride here,” he explained. “I think he was afraid to.”

Diane moved past Nate and smiled gently at her son. Nate was astounded that there was no sorrow in her blue eyes, only kindness as she reached out to him, her actions that of someone trying to calm a wounded animal.

“Come on, Max,” she said soothingly. “You’re safe here. I’ll put you in your bed. You remember your old room, right?”

Max slid out of the car and for the first time Nate saw curiosity in his expression. He followed his mother into the house, staring at her the entire time, like he was trying to figure her out. It occurred to Nate that Diane Evans was the first true human Max had had contact with since they’d found him at the mammoth dig site.

Isabel rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands. “I’m exhausted,” she said to Michael. “I need to go to bed. Are you guys staying here?”

Michael shrugged. “Not enough room, I don’t think. I’ll take Alyssa home.” He glanced at Nate so briefly Nate wasn’t sure it happened. “And Nate. I assume Jeremy can stay here with you?”

Isabel nodded, tugging her half-asleep first born from the front seat of the vehicle. “Come on, Casanova,” she said.

“I don’t want to go in there,” Jeremy whined as his feet touched the drive. “Grandma’s going to pinch me.”

“Might as well get it over with.” Isabel handed the keys to Michael as he rounded the SUV. “Be careful. Come back tomorrow around breakfast time. Liz said she’ll be here around noon.”

They said their goodbyes, then Michael climbed behind the wheel, Alyssa took the passenger seat and Nate sat in the back, wary of Michael’s sudden kindness. They rode to Maria’s little house in silence, exhaustion finally taking the best of them. Michael pulled into the driveway and put the SUV into park.

“Stay with us, Daddy,” Alyssa pleaded. “It’s late and you’re tired. You shouldn’t have to drive all of the way over to your apartment.”

Nate noticed Michael shift uncomfortably in his seat. “Pumpkin, I probably should have told you sooner…”

Alyssa’s eyes were round. “What?” Her tone said it all – one more piece of bad news and she was likely going to burst a gasket.

“I don’t have an apartment anymore,” Michael announced.

She blinked, confused – but Nate caught his meaning right away, his lip lifting into a smirk of realization.

“Did you buy a house or something?” Alyssa asked.

Michael reached down and turned off the car. “No, sweet pea. I live here. With your mom.”

Alyssa’s mouth dropped open in disbelief and Nate waited silently for her reaction. Finally, she blew out a snort of disgust, opened the car door and stomped toward the house.

“Jesus Christ,” she swore under her breath. “Call the kettle black a little more, why don’t you?”

Michael watched her go, then swiveled to look at Nate, guilt on his face. “I don’t want to hear one word out of you, Junior.”

Nate shrugged. “You deserve more than one word, Pops.” His tone was level, victorious.

“Maybe,” Michael answered matter-of-factly. “But I still don’t want to hear it. Anyway, it’s different with us – we’re adults and we were married once.”

Nate leaned forward. “It’s no different,” he stated bluntly. “Alyssa and I are also adults, and we will be married someday.”

Michael regarded him silently.

“Oh, yes,” Nate assured him, nodding his head. “You’re stuck with me.”

Michael blinked. “But you’re not married yet. You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.” With that, he got out of the SUV and followed his daughter into the house.

The next day, the gang reunited for breakfast, only a few short hours after they’d arrived in Roswell. There was a sense of fatigue about them, a road-weariness that only time can heal. Diane cooked a feast, enough food to feed an army. Nate realized that somewhere along the way, the days of fast food and carry-out had caught up with him – he was starved, his body feeling tired and depleted.

As he dived into his breakfast, however, he couldn’t help but notice Max sitting catatonically on the other side of the table from him. It seemed as though Max had only eaten enough to keep himself alive biologically, like some internal sensor sent out a signal every now and then that he needed to eat and drink or he would expire in a short amount of time. Apparently the sensor hadn’t gone off yet today as he stared sightlessly into his plate.

Philip Evans lifted his coffee cup to his mouth and blew on it, then talked to his son as though nothing was wrong. “Better eat that up, Max. You know how your mom gets when you don’t clean your plate.”

“Well, I have reason to get that way,” Diane defended gently, sliding into the chair beside Nate and patting his arm. “I mean, sometimes if you don’t force Max to eat, he withers away to nothing.”

Isabel paused, fork halfway to her mouth, and gave her mother a sad smile.

“You know how he is, Izzy,” Diane said.

Isabel nodded. “He is like that, Mom.” Then she lowered her eyes and concentrated on her food instead of the silent chaos around her.

Nate watched the exchange silently. Both of the elder Evanses seemed to insist on acting like there was absolutely nothing wrong with their son. It confused Nate that they could go on this way, but then again he hadn’t been around the last nineteen years – it could be that this had happened before and they knew how they should handle the situation. It was like they were expecting a deadline to pass or something and Max would just automatically be himself again. Nate wasn’t so sure of that.

Michael leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach, letting out a satisfied groan. “Excellent, Mrs. Evans.”

Diane beamed. “Thank you, Michael.”

“How about if I clean up?” Despite her protests, Michael began clearing empty plates and cups, dumping them into a sink of soapy water.

After breakfast, the long wait for Liz’s arrival began. Nate found the anticipation nearly painful. He wanted to believe that Liz could help pull Max out of his funk…but what if she couldn’t? What then? Was Max’s state of mind permanent?

As the group scattered into different activities to occupy their time, Nate found Max sitting in the living room, his eyes fixed on the floor. Nate sat down on the ottoman before him, swallowed and worked up his courage.

“Max,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”

Max looked up, his dark eyes vacant.

Nate smiled at him, trying not to appear as anxious as he was. “Do you remember me at all, Max?”

Max blinked but otherwise didn’t respond.

“I’m your son,” Nate explained gently. “I’m Nate. I’ve got some weird shit going on right now, Max, and I really need your help.” With a small burst of panic, he realized that was true. An overwhelming sense of isolation washed over him. “I have this thing on my chest – I don’t know what it means. I don’t know if I’m a king now or if you are or what’s going on.”

Max looked back to the floor.

Internally, hope deflated inside of Nate. He couldn’t even hold Max’s attention for a couple of minutes. But he didn’t let that deter him. If nothing else, saying what he had to might ease some of the anxiety in his soul.

“Something else happened, too,” Nate said. “I did something and I don’t know how I did it. No one else can tell me how I did it, either.” He bit his lip. “I have your gift, Max. And only you can teach me how to use it. Max?”

Max lifted his head again.

“You need to come back to us so that you can show me how to use this thing I’ve got,” Nate pleaded, his blue eyes searching his father’s. “Please don’t leave me all alone like this.”

Max’s uncomprehending eyes locked on his for a moment, then Nate suddenly saw more lucidity there than he’d seen in two days. So startled was he that he recoiled, not sure if Max was about to freak out again. His heart thudded quickly in his chest as he watched Max’s face become animated, a look of excruciating emotion twisting his features.

“What?” Nate asked, wondering if he should call the others.

Max turned his head sideways, like a dog listening to pitches only he could hear and Nate suddenly remembered that Max had an acute sense of hearing. Letting out a sound that was half cry, half moan, Max rose to his feet but stood paralyzed in one spot like he couldn’t quite figure out where he was. Nate pushed himself backwards off the ottoman to his feet, panic flaring in his gut.

“Max, what is it?”

Then Max’s gaze zipped toward the front door and his eyes welled up with tears. Nate followed his line of sight, saw nothing there. In short order, the front door swung open and he heard Isabel’s muffled voice, then a clear one that belonged to Liz Evans.

“Where is he?” Liz asked, her tone anxious.

Max’s hand flew to his mouth as his tears spilled onto his cheeks. Nate watched in absolute disbelief as Max raced for the door, scooped up his wife and burst into sobs.

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Part Sixteen

Nate was still staring in disbelief at Max and Liz as Maria stepped around them, Emily cradled against her hip. She gave them a look, then turned to Michael, who had rushed into the room at the sound of Max’s cries, the rest of the tribe close on his heels.

“You never greet me that way,” Maria snorted.

Michael appeared to strain, possibly trying to work up a tear but appearing more like he wanted to expel gas. Finally, he gave a shrug. “Is it enough to tell you I missed you?”

She snorted again. “It would be a huge leap forward.” Her green eyes settled on Nate and she handed Emily to him. “Here, say hello to your baby sister.” Then she went into the living room and flopped on the couch, obviously exhausted.

Emily looked at Nate with big brown eyes, then giggled and promptly pulled his hair. He grinned at her, finding a breath of solace in her innocence. But soon his attention was drawn back to Max and Liz, who were still bound together in the entranceway. Crossing her arms over her chest and biting away tears, Isabel stepped around them and joined Maria in the living room.

Behind him, Nate got the impression the others were doing the same, a shuffling of feet, a sigh of relief, silence in the Evans household. Silence except for the small cries coming from Max.

“Help me, Liz,” he pleaded over her shoulder. “Please don’t let them hurt me.”

Nate swallowed hard, the sound of Max begging for protection absolutely heart-breaking. Max was a leader of men - human and otherwise, strong, powerful, a king. To hear him plead for his life drove home to Nate how devastating the events leading up to this day must have been.

Liz pulled back and took his face between her hands. “No one here is going to hurt you, Max,” she said, her voice steady. Nate was surprised at her strength – there were no tears in her eyes.

“They’ll find me,” Max said, his voice a whisper.

Liz snorted a laugh. “Not on my watch.” She wrapped her arm around his waist and slid his over her shoulder. “Let’s go somewhere else, okay? Somewhere where you’re comfortable, where maybe I can help you.”

He nodded his head shakily, then let her start leading them to his room. On their way past, Liz gave Nate a weak smile, trying to let him know everything was okay – but there was a lot of uncertainty in that look.

Nate stood motionlessly in the hallway for a few long moments, Emily tugging at his hair and making gurgling noises. He found it odd that every other inhabitant in the house had simply walked away in light of the fact that Max had spoken his first words since his recovery in Hot Springs. He also found Max’s paranoia unsettling, especially since he believed “they” were capable of finding him.

Finally, Nate turned on his heel and entered the living room with the others. Michael and Maria were on the couch, Alyssa on the arm giving them looks of utter disgust. Isabel was looking out the window, her arms still crossed over her chest and a worried expression on her face. Jeremy was sitting in the easy chair, slouched like he had no backbone, and Diane Evans was pacing behind the couch. Nate took them all in and found that he had no words of comfort for any of them. Then he found it bizarre that he somehow felt obligated to say something comforting.

“Well, we have guests,” Diane finally said, her voice breathy. “We’ll need to feed people. I should go to the store.”

Nate smiled wanly at her – when the going got tough, the tough relied on what they were best at. For Diane, it was nurturing.

“I’ll drive you, Mom,” Isabel said, turning from the window.

“Oh, honey, that would be wonderful. I’ll get my purse.” Diane happily hurried down the hallway to retrieve her pocketbook.

“Jeremy, do you want to come?” Isabel asked her son.

He shook his head and Nate thought Isabel looked disappointed. Maybe it wasn’t that she was offended he was passing up the opportunity to spend time with her – maybe she was uncomfortable leaving him out of her sight in light of what Max had said. After all, Nate had no doubt that as his mother had killed to protect her young, so would Isabel.

After Diane and Isabel left, Alyssa finally regarded her mother with an even stare.

“Nice to see you, Mom,” she said, a bitter tinge in her voice. Nate’s eyebrows shot up slightly at that.

Maria leaned around Michael and furrowed her brow at her daughter.

“How was your trip?” Alyssa added. “You no doubt looked forward to seeing me.”

It was then that Nate realized Maria hadn’t properly greeted her daughter. He felt a pang inside at that neglect and hoped it was just an oversight considering the situation. Maria got to her feet and went to hug her daughter, but Alyssa jumped up and headed toward the kitchen.

“Don’t touch me,” she mumbled over her shoulder.

Maria stood frozen in place for a moment, guilt-ridden, then turned an apologetic face to Nate. “I didn’t mean to…”

He nodded his head in understanding as Maria slumped to the couch, nearly sitting on Michael in the process. He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

“Want me to talk to her?” he offered.

Maria shook her head, her gaze fixed on nothingness. “No, give her time. I deserve this one.”

In time, Michael and Maria disappeared, perhaps to check on Liz and Max, perhaps to find Alyssa, and Nate was left alone with Emily and Jeremy.

Jeremy grabbed the remote control to the TV and flipped it on, threw one leg over the arm of the easy chair. Nate watched him channel surf and wondered how he could be so calm at a time like this.

“What happens now?” he asked, balancing Emily on his knee and bouncing her lightly.

Jeremy glanced at him. “We wait for Liz to come out and give us the scoop.” He flipped to a station showing a cheerleading competition and stopped there, a grin on his face.

“How long is that going to take?” Nate asked.

Jeremy shrugged. “Might not even be today. Check out the one in the second row, third from the left. Nice jugs, eh?”

Brow furrowed, Nate glanced at the TV and found the girl he was referring to and saw that she did indeed have nice breasts. Then he wondered how Jeremy managed to woo so many girls when he referred to parts of their anatomy as “jugs” – was there possibly any girl out there who didn’t find that offensive?

Emily squealed a laugh and disrupted Nate’s musing. He smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which made her giggle and squirm. Deep in his gut, he felt a sense of sadness, a dying hope that Max could be a father to her again someday, a seeming impossibility considering he hadn’t even noticed her presence when he’d run to Liz’s arms.

As Jeremy watched the cheerleaders, Nate regarded him silently, for the first time mulling over what had occurred at the motel in South Dakota. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d seen Agent Darmon after the alien was already dead. There was also no doubt in his mind that Jeremy hadn’t been surprised by that. “Why are the dead always so cryptic?” – that’s what he’d said. Not “Oh my God Nate sees dead people!” Nate cocked his head as he watched his cousin.

“Jeremy,” he said.

Jeremy turned to him, pointed at the TV with the remote. “Last row, blond with the ponytail – check out the stems.”

Nate shook his head to will away the urge to look. “Not right now. I want to ask you something.”

“Sure, shoot,” he replied, turning back to the screen.

“Do you talk to the dead?”

Jeremy looked at him in brief surprise, but that faded quickly and there was suddenly ancient wisdom behind his dark eyes. “Maybe.”

Maybe. Maybe meant yes. To Nate, the possibilities were endless – he had so many unanswered questions he needed to ask. And not to just one person, to many. Like that little boy who drowned in Lake Chautauqua. If he had the opportunity to talk to that boy, maybe he could apologize and the boy would forgive him. And Annie – if he could talk with Annie, maybe he could understand fully what her involvement with the FBI was. Maybe he could forgive her.

And his mother.

Of all of the people who had touched his life, Tess Harding was probably the most enigmatic, a soul he’d never touch and who would never touch his. He knew nothing of her, of the gift that corrupted her – a gift that he might also possess. If he could speak with her, maybe he could understand, maybe he could prevent the same things from happening should the gift manifest itself somewhere down the road.

Jeremy was watching him silently, the cheerleaders momentarily forgotten. “Dude,” he said carefully. “I know what you’re thinking. It doesn’t happen that way.”

Nate tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Jeremy righted himself, leaned forward in his chair. “It’s not like picking up a telephone and calling the person you want to talk to. The dead want to be left alone, they want to be at peace. You can’t just conjure up whomever you want when you want.”

Nate frowned slightly. “Then how do you talk to them?”

He shrugged. “They usually come to me. If they have something to say, they let their presence be known.”

Nate looked at the carpet, felt Emily starting to become heavy in his arms – she was falling asleep. He turned her around and put her over his shoulder, rubbed her back absent-mindedly. The dead usually let their presence be known. Isn’t that what Agent Darmon had done? He’d had something to say and he’d sought out Nate.

“Do I have that power, too?” he asked Jeremy.

Jeremy shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Is that why I could see Darmon?”

“Maybe.” He sighed. “We don’t know what your powers are yet, Nate. You’re a bit immature.”

Nate withdrew. “Excuse me?” A sixteen-year-old was calling him immature?

Jeremy giggled, his voice sounding like it belonged to someone six years his junior. Did the girls find that attractive as well? Nate could only guess that Jeremy magically shifted into Mr. Suave whenever the babes were around…

“Nah, Dude, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant as far as powers are concerned. I had mine by the time I was eight. You’re a lot older than that.” He tried to hide his grin but couldn’t keep from snorting a laugh. “Were you that slow at everything?”

Nate frowned, then silently raised his middle finger.

Jeremy laughed gleefully and turned back to the television.

Nate sighed and continued to comfort his baby sister. He couldn’t keep his gaze from traveling down the hallway in the direction of Max’s bedroom. Try as he might, he could hear nothing coming from the room, no cries or softly-spoken words. It was frustrating to know that Max was somewhat back with the living, that he’d finally spoken, and yet they still knew nothing more than they did before Liz arrived.

All there was to do now was wait, wait for Liz to emerge and tell them what had happened to Max. From Max’s devastated, vulnerable plea for help, Nate knew it wasn’t going to be good.

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Part Seventeen

“I’m okay, Mom. I’ve just been busy with school and stuff.” As Nate sat on the Evans’s couch talking on his cell phone, he frowned deeply. He hated lying to them, hating trying to make them think he was back in Boston, a happy teenager enjoying his first year of school.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emma asked on the other end of the line. “You sound tired.”

Nate rubbed his eyes. He was tired, both physically and mentally. “I’ve had a bit of the flu,” he fibbed. “Please don’t worry – it was nothing.”

“Nathan, you need to take care of yourself,” Emma scolded lightly. “I know you’re not eating right. Are you?”

He thought back on his meals of late – a lot of take out and fast food, especially on the road trip from Rapid City. In fact, until Diane Evans had laid out a well-balance feast for her guests, he’d been eating pretty deplorably. “No, Mom. I haven’t.”

“You need to keep your strength up,” Emma continued. “Try to eat fruits and vegetables, okay?”

“Yes, Mom.” He looked at the ceiling, guilt-ridden that she was concerned about his diet when there seemed to be so many other means by which he could fall into ill health these days. “I’m sorry I haven’t called. I’ve just been…busy.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. We understand. I guess I shouldn’t run up your cell phone bill like this, so I should say goodbye.”

“Okay. I love you, Mom.”

“We love you too, Nate.”

He hung up and stared gloomily at the cell. For reasons having more to do with economy than with covering his tracks, he’d told his parents to not call him at the loft but rather to use his cell phone – his cell number was local for them and they wouldn’t have to pay the long distance charges. Now, after having been absent from the loft for a good week, he understood what luck it had been for him to have suggested it – if they’d called the loft for a week straight and been unable to contact him, he was sure panic would have ensued, panic that may have involved phoning the authorities and others that Nate would rather avoid.

“You hate doing that, don’t you?”

Nate glanced up at Isabel, who was sitting across from him in the easy chair. Hours had passed since Liz had taken Max into hiding, the only movement from the room being when Liz came out to retrieve Emily in order to feed her. Dinner was long since past and it was now dark outside.

“Doing what?” Nate asked.

“Lying to her,” Isabel stated simply.

Another rage of guilt and Nate nodded.

“I used to hate it too,” she confirmed. “I used to beg Max to let us tell Mom and Dad the truth. He never let us, though.”

“How did they find out?”

She waved a hand in the air. “It’s a long story.” She seemed ready to leave it at that, then thought twice about it. “I’m sorry,” she amended, her eyes full of regret. “That’s not fair to you.”

Nate’s eyebrows rose in curiosity.

“You have a right to know about your past. It was because of you,” Isabel explained without any negative tone in her voice. “When you came home. The military was making their presence known because Tess had returned to earth with you. Mom and Dad already suspected something was different about us and we had no choice but to tell them the truth.”

Another stab of guilt and Nate looked at his shoes.

“Hey,” Isabel said, leaning forward and tapping his knee so he would look at her. She was smiling at him. “It was a good thing, nothing to feel bad about.”

He gave her a wan smile. Why did it seem that so many peoples’ lives had changed because of him?

The door down the hallway opened and both Nate and Isabel turned toward it, thoughts of Tess Harding and crash landings forgotten. Momentarily, Liz appeared at the doorway of the living room, looking a little pale. Isabel immediately jumped to her feet.

“Liz?”

“Find everyone else, Isabel,” Liz said weakly. “We have to talk.”

Nate felt that familiar twist in his stomach, that dread that bad news was on the horizon. Isabel didn’t say another word, but quickly moved for the steps and ran upstairs. Nate stood and went out the back door, where he found Michael, Maria and Alyssa, who seemed to be having a family meeting of sorts. He didn’t need to say a word – his face must have said it all. The three of them rose and went back into the house with him.

By the time Nate returned, Isabel had rounded up Jeremy and her parents, who were all looking anxiously at Liz, who seemed very small standing there in that doorway. Nate found himself squished on the couch with Alyssa, Maria and Michael, a fit a little too tight for his liking.

“He’s asleep,” Liz began, gesturing down the hallway.

“Is he okay?” Isabel asked anxiously.

Liz nodded. “He will be. He’s been through…a lot.” She looked at the floor as if she were composing herself, then looked at Michael and Isabel. “First of all, thank you for finding him, for bringing him back.”

“Don’t thank us,” Michael said bluntly. “Thank Nate. He knew where to find him, he knew how to heal him.”

Nate’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Credit? From Michael Guerin?

Liz’s dark eyes shifted to her step-son, then her bottom lip quivered and she fell into sobs. Covering her face, she hung her head, her shoulders convulsing with the action. Nate was immediately on his feet, moving over to support her, letting her cry into his chest. He had the impression this was what she’d wanted to do at the door when she’d first seen Max, what she’d been holding back since she’d been there.

Maria rose quietly and went to join them, rubbing Liz’s back and assuring her everything was going to be okay. The others in the room looked away, not wanting to stare at Liz’s raw agony. Nate caught his aunt’s gaze and saw that she, too, was crying albeit silently.

“I’m okay,” Liz finally said, pushing away from Nate. “I’m alright.”

“Liz,” Maria said softly in comfort. “Why don’t you sit down, hm? You’ve had a long day.”

Nate knew why she was saying that – Liz was trembling like the last leaf of autumn, still clinging stubbornly to the tree. Jeremy quickly jumped up out of his chair and took Liz by the arm.

“Here, sit down, Aunt Liz,” he said. “You can have my seat.”

Liz sat down, drawing in a few deep breaths to calm herself. Diane handed her a couple of Kleenexes and squeezed her hand in comfort. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Nate reclaimed his seat by Alyssa, who immediately took his hand in hers. When he looked at her, he saw wet tracks on her cheeks.

“Can I get you a glass of water?” Philip asked his daughter-in-law gently.

Liz nodded, looking into her lap, her hands fidgeting with the Kleenexes. Seeming happy to have something to do, Philip sprinted to his feet and disappeared into the kitchen. Liz drew in another long breath, dabbed her nose with the tissue, then looked up to regard Nate with red, weary eyes.

“Thank you, Nate,” she said levelly. “For saving Max.”

But he hadn’t done it alone. In fact, contrary to what Michael had said, he hadn’t known how to heal Max – it had just happened. Then he’d passed out like a hemophobic on Red Cross donation day. Without the others, he and Max may have just lain there amongst those bones until they’d become fossils themselves.

“I had help,” he said humbly.

Liz smiled wanly at him as Philip handed her the glass of water. She took a small sip, then set the glass on the end table by the chair. “What I have to tell you isn’t good,” she began slowly, almost like not saying the words would make it any less true.

Out of the corner of his eye, Nate saw Michael pick up Maria’s hand in his. Even though he thought Michael was an ass in the highest degree, it touched him that at this time he was trying to offer a small gesture of reassurance.

“Take your time,” Isabel encouraged Liz. “Tell us what you know. Tell us what happened to Max.”

Liz looked down at the Kleenex in her hand, obviously fighting off more tears. “Max wasn’t supposed to live. He was beaten, tortured. His mind was raped.”

At that particular choice of words, Nate noted that Isabel withdrew slightly. Wide-eyed, he watched her for any other reaction but got none.

Liz held her hand to her chest. “I felt everything he went through,” she said, her voice cracking. “All of his pain…” Her voice trailed off as her breath quickened, reliving the horrors Max had endured.

Maria disentangled herself from Michael, then slid into the chair with Liz, holding her in her arms. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll stay right here while you say what you need to say.”

Liz sniffled as she nodded her head, her eyes still fixed on the wad of Kleenex. “They took his memories, his thoughts, his will.” She bit her lip, closing her eyes against the pain of it all. Then she looked up directly at Isabel. “I’m sorry, Iz. They’re back.”

It sounded like someone had kicked Isabel directly in the solar plexus – a whoosh of air left her lungs, her pretty face going pale with disbelief. Nate looked from Liz to Isabel and then back again, waiting for some explanation.

“Khivar,” Michael said, his voice barely there.

Liz nodded.

“And Nicholas,” Maria added, her voice flat.

Another nod from Liz.

“But they were gone,” Isabel gasped frantically. “They’ve been gone for twenty years! Why would they come back now? What business could they possibly have here?”

Looking sick with the thought, Liz’s eyes shifted to Nate, who involuntarily recoiled. He didn’t know who this Khivar person or that Nicholas guy was, but he’d never seen his aunt so upset.

“They’ve been back for a year,” Liz stated, her tears finally having subsided. “They’ve been back since the seal presented itself to Nate.”

That ball of dread in Nate’s stomach became as large as a softball, nearly doubling him over as it churned inside of him. He suddenly felt like Rudolph, his red nose drawing the bad guys to him and putting everyone else in danger.

Michael’s brow was furrowed. “Nate? Why would they care about him?”

Liz snorted. “They know now they made a mistake. They know now that Nate, regardless of his biological make up, is the true heir to the throne of Antar. They were wrong in sending him back here.”

Nate could finish the thought himself – they should have killed him while he was on their planet. Then again, Tess’s flee for their lives had probably prevented them from doing so.

“They couldn’t find him,” Isabel said, putting the pieces together. “He’s human, so they couldn’t look for an alien being. Max put him up for adoption, so they had no idea where he was.” Her mouth dropped open at the thought. “They probably thought he’d died in crash when Tess had returned to earth.”

Liz nodded grimly. “But when the seal appeared, they sensed it. They knew that he was alive.”

Nate felt Alyssa’s fingers clench around his, as though she sensed what was coming next.

“I’m sorry, Nate,” Liz said, her voice choked again and tears welling up in her eyes. “They’re looking for you.”

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Hey everyone! Thanks for the fb. I don't have time to answer questions now, but I will try later


Part Eighteen

“What do we do?” Alyssa demanded shakily, her fingers trembling against Nate’s. “We can’t let them find him. We need to go into hiding.”

On her other side, Michael shook his head. “That’s not going to work, pumpkin.”

Her head whipped in his direction. “Why not? We can’t just leave him sitting here with a big ‘Here I am – come get me!’ sign attached to him! He’s a sitting duck, Daddy!”

Michael put a comforting hand on her arm, which she quickly jerked away.

“You’d like it if Nate went away, wouldn’t you?” she accused, her eyes blazing with anger.

He shook his head patiently, letting her outburst burn itself out. “No, Alyssa. I don’t want Nate to go away. But hiding isn’t going to do any good. They’re going to find him anyway.” Michael looked up at Isabel. “We have to fight.”

Isabel swallowed visibly. “Fight,” she echoed. “Khivar and Nicholas. It’s been too long, Michael. They’ve been bolstering their powers, their reinforcements for twenty years. There’s no way we can take them on.”

“But we’ve been bolstering our powers as well,” he countered. “For the same amount of time.”

“And what about resources?” she demanded. Nate could see the fear behind her eyes – he didn’t know who Khivar and Nicholas were, but they obviously scared the bejesus out of his aunt.

“We have more of those, too,” Michael answered calmly.

Isabel gave a hysterical laugh. “Who, Michael? Me, you and who else? They’ve totally blown Max’s mind, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Liz cringed and Maria gave her a tight squeeze, trying to take her pain away.

“Max will come back to us,” Michael said levelly. “And we have Liz now, right?”

Liz looked up and nodded her head silently.

“And me,” Alyssa said quietly, her grip now almost crushing Nate’s fingers.

“Me, too,” Jeremy piped up.

Isabel turned to her first born son, a look of utter devastation on her pretty face. Nate felt her pain all of the way to his bones – there was no way she could ever live through losing her son in combat; he was reminded sickly of a parent bidding their child farewell as they boarded a ship to go to war.

“I can fight, Ma,” Jeremy said, glancing away self-consciously. “I’m not afraid.”

She met his gaze a few seconds longer, then looked down into her lap, perhaps to hide tears.

“I can learn,” Nate offered meekly. After all, it was his ass they were trying to save. “If someone can just teach me…”

Alyssa’s face showed more pain than Isabel’s had. When Nate looked at Liz, he saw a stricken expression there as well.

“Besides,” Michael said, switching gears. “How do we know they have so many resources backing them up? Are we just guessing here?” He looked at Liz. “Did Max say anything about huge armies coming for us?”

Liz shook her head. “No.” She blew out a breath. “He didn’t say much at all, in truth. I got most of the story by connecting with him.” Again her hand went to her chest and her gaze drifted far away, like she was recalling things too unimaginable to put into words.

“See?” Michael said, lifting one hand palm-up. “Maybe it’s just Khivar and Nick we have to worry about. No problem.”

In spite of the situation, Maria snorted a laugh. “Nick?”

Michael shrugged. “Makes him sound less mature…which is somehow fitting, dontcha think?”

“Okay, here’s what I think we should do,” Philip interrupted, shifting into father mode. “First, we need to assess if the danger is eminent. Nate, is the seal still present?”

Nate’s eyebrows lifted – he hadn’t even noticed lately. Reaching up, he pulled down the collar to his shirt, found his chest unmarked. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw many pairs of eyes concentrating on his skin, something that made him more than a little self-conscious. He let his collar slide back into place and shook his head.

“If we assume that they can only hone in on the seal when it’s active, then we can assume that they can’t locate Nate right now,” Philip deduced. “Correct?”

Isabel snorted. “Dad, look where we are!” She held open both of her hands. “We’re in Max’s childhood home. Do you think maybe they’d think to look here?”

There was silence in the room, then Maria shrugged. “I wouldn’t.” As all eyes shifted to her, she withdrew a bit. “I mean, I wouldn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to go to the obvious place.”

Nate had to agree with her – after all, as far as the bad guys were concerned, Max was dead. Why would his son be at his grandparents’ house? Especially since he’d never been there while he was growing up? Perhaps hiding in plain sight was the best strategy they had.

“I want to go back to Max,” Liz announced, disentangling herself from Maria and pushing herself from the chair. “I want to be there when he wakes up. I don’t want him to be alone.”

“Honey, you didn’t eat any dinner,” Diane said sympathetically.

Liz gave her a wan smile. “Thanks, Mom, but I don’t think I could eat right now. Come get me if we decide to relocate or something.”

There was a collective nod as Liz walked tiredly down the hallway and disappeared into Max’s bedroom. An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, no one sure what to say.

“We need to talk to Max,” Michael finally said. “We need to know what he knows – from the horse’s mouth and not via Liz. You know how things are subjective in a connection. We have to know what he told them, what he knows about them.”

Isabel nodded. “I agree. Do we know when he’s going to be able to talk?”

Michael sighed. “Give him until morning. If he’s not talkative by then, then we’ll have to do our best without him.”

*****

Nate sat alone on the darkened garden patio behind the Evans home. Above him, the stars shined brightly, the moon full and casting the area in a bluish light. It was a nice little garden, with rose bushes and a little bubbling fountain, probably Diane’s hobby since she no longer had children to coddle.

Thinking of Diane made Nate think of Emma and a pang of guilt stabbed him in the gut. The shit storm was coming to town and Nate had to think that the Spencers were going to get hit by it as well. They’d done nothing to deserve what was coming their way. They’d done nothing to deserve having a child who was not of this earth. They apparently didn’t even deserve to know the truth.

How could he tell them? “Mom, Dad, my parents were aliens.” They’d lock him away for a very long time. His mind wandered to the fact that Liz Evans had been keeping her secret from the Parkers for twenty years – was she constantly worried that they’d be in the line of fire because of who she was associated with? Was she worried now? Or did Khivar and Nicholas only care about getting to Nate?

Nate looked down at his shoes, kicked a stray piece of gravel from the paver-brick patio. All of this was happening because of him. If he’d have died back on Antar, or if that ship had burned to bits when it had crashed in the desert, or if he’d fallen through the ice instead of that little boy, none of this would be happening. Max’s line would be broken and that would be the end of the story. Rule of Antar would be up for grabs. Everyone would be safe.

Alyssa would be safe.

Hanging his head, Nate rubbed his temples. If Agent O’Donnell had just succeeded in killing him, all of this could be avoided…

“Can I join you?”

Nate’s head jerked up to find Michael Guerin standing at the sliding glass doors, his expression wary. Nate nodded, watched curiously as the man slid the doors shut behind himself and walked across the patio, pointed his face to the sky and took a deep breath. He stayed like that for so long that Nate nearly screamed at him to say something.

Finally, Michael turned around and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Don’t even think about it.”

Nate’s eyebrows rose quickly. “Think about what?”

Michael pursed his lips and sat down at a small wrought-iron table on the other side of the patio. “Turning yourself in.”

“I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking about that,” Nate lied.

“Sure you weren’t,” Michael snorted. “Listen, Nate, these guys are serious. While the FBI dicked with you, these guys will get right to the point and just kill you. They have no need to toy with you. They want you dead. Period.”

Nate swallowed – never in his life had he thought he’d hear the words, ‘They want you dead, period.’

“There would be no rescue at the last minute,” Michael continued. “Because the minute you went to them would be your last minute. Am I making myself clear?”

Nate nodded mutely.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t necessarily want you dead, Nate.”

Nate watched him without a reply.

“It would break my baby’s heart,” Michael tacked on. “And I don’t ever want to see her heart broken. So, we understand one another, right?”

Nate nodded.

“Okay then.” Michael looked down at this boot, kicked one foot against the other. “You’re going to have to help us this time.”

“I want to help,” Nate pointed out.

Michael met his gaze. “But you don’t know how.”

Nate shook his head. “You’re right, I don’t.” He frowned deeply – excess baggage once again. Maybe he should stay back with the women and children…no, wait – even they had abilities and knew how to use them.

“Then I’ll teach you.”

Nate’s blue eyes grew round. “What?”

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ll show you. I can’t help you with all of that healing mumbo jumbo, but I’m pretty damned good at blowing stuff up. I can show you that.”

Nate blinked. Michael Guerin was offering to help him?! Maybe the “stuff” that Michael wanted to blow up included Nate…

“We don’t have a lot of time, I don’t think,” Michael continued. “There’s a bad storm brewing. But give me a day, an afternoon, and you can do it I’m sure.”

Nate’s brow furrowed. “What if I don’t have that gift?”

Michael stood as he snorted. “We all have that gift, Junior.” He looked to the sky for a long moment, then headed for the doors. “Don’t stay out too late – can’t have you getting a cold when there’s work to do.”

Long after Michael had gone into the house, Nate stared after him in disbelief.

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Part Nineteen

Nate couldn’t sleep. It was so late when Liz had finally emerged to tell them what she’d learned from Max that the entire group decided to camp out at the Evans home. There were bodies everywhere, only adding to Nate’s insomnia. Worst of all, Jeremy Ramirez was camped on the floor near the couch where Nate was bedded down, snoring louder than seemed humanly possible. Nate had to wonder if that kid needed some serious nasal surgery…

Blowing out a sigh and shifting onto his back, being careful not to kick Alyssa, who was asleep at the other end of the couch, Nate stared at the ceiling, at the wedge of light projected there from the kitchen light Diane Evans had left on as a nightlight for her unexpected house guests. It somewhat astounded Nate that Alyssa and his cousin could sleep so peacefully, considering all that had happened. Then again, maybe they’d been through something like this before. Maybe Nate just had a horrible case of the rookie jitters.

But why shouldn’t he? There were people out there who wanted to kill him because of something he didn’t even know about a year ago – his royal birthright. Nate didn’t care about a throne or some far away planet. All of his life, he’d been Nathan Spencer, country boy, ordinary to say the least. To have to deal with the fact that he was meant for death at a young age was paralyzing.

That and the fact that Michael Guerin wanted to “help” him learn to use his powers. What if Michael was working for the other side? What if his offer to help was just an excuse to get Nate somewhere and then offer him up like a sacrificial lamb? After all, Tess Harding had been a liar and betrayer – who was to say that that characteristic didn’t run rampant in the first generation of hybrids? What if Michael had just been holding his cards close to his chest for the last thirty years?

Nate chided himself silently for thinking such a thing. Then again, Michael hadn’t been the most trusting of Nate, why should Nate immediately trust him? What made Michael immediately trustworthy?

Sighing again, Nate spread his knees and looked to the other end of the massive couch where Alyssa was sleeping soundlessly on her side. There was no way an evil creature had had a hand in her creation. Therefore, Nate had to guess that Michael’s intentions were on the up and up. He flopped back against the pillow, frowning to himself. He hated so much uncertainty.

Shortly before bedtime, Liz had left Max’s room to get a snack, her long day without food finally getting the best of her. Nate had been fortunate enough to have been in the kitchen when she’d emerged and he’d been able to talk to her a little before she’d gone back to be by Max’s side. From what he could gather, Max’s defense against the brain-raping powers of Nicholas had been to retreat literally to his happy place, a place filled with Liz Parker. Nate recalled his visions when healing Max – utter horror followed by image after image of the pretty professor, a sweet memory of a cottage by the sea. Max’s comfort place. They couldn’t touch him there. They could prod his brain all they wanted and he would remain untouchable, a turtle in his shell.

From what Liz explained, the hard part was coaxing Max out of that happy place, to convince him that present company wasn’t going to hurt him. For weeks, Max’s existence depended on only one thing – his belief in Liz. It was monumental to ask him to trust someone else again.

Nate found himself smiling. He liked that idea, the thought that what Max and Liz had was so pure, so genuine that Max was able to save himself by enveloping himself in her. It was no wonder Liz claimed she would die without him.

At some point, Nate must have fallen asleep as he awoke with a start, jerking himself up on his elbows.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Max’s voice was soft in the dark, barely there.

Nate blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. When he did, he saw Max sitting on the edge of the couch at his hip, Emily hiccupping softly in his arms. Nate looked curiously at the pair, a million odd thoughts racing through his groggy head – did Max remember Emily? How did Max manage to escape his room without waking Liz? Why was he sitting there watching Nate sleep?

“The princess was hungry,” Max said, bouncing her lightly, tapping her back trying to get rid of the hiccups.

Yes, and Liz needed to feed Emily. Nate raised an eyebrow.

“I gave her some juice,” Max said in explanation, frowning slightly. “I’m not sure her belly liked it.”

Emily hiccupped in response.

Nate cleared the sleep from his throat. “Max, are you okay?”

Max nodded, planting a kiss on his baby’s head. Nate wished there was a light on somewhere so he could see Max’s eyes – one look in Max’s eyes could write a book. Maybe then Nate would know if Max was really okay or if he was semi-catatonic still.

“I wanted to thank you,” Max said quietly. “For helping me.”

Nate swallowed, gave a nod of his head. “Anytime, Max. I’m glad I could help.”

Max nodded his appreciation and brushed Emily’s hair to one side. “You have to go to the pod chamber,” he said out of the blue.

Nate’s eyebrows shot up.

“You remember how to get there?”

Nate nodded.

“Good.” Max lifted Emily over his shoulder and patted her back in a steady thump. “I’m sorry, baby,” he sighed.

Nate waited for more information but got none. When it didn’t come, he cleared his throat again. “Why am I going to the pod chamber?”

Max glanced at him like there hadn’t been a thirty-second-long lull in the conversation. “Above the pods, there’s a leather bag with some artifacts in it.”

“Artifacts?” Maybe that head wound wasn’t quite healed yet…

“Get the bag. Inside, you’ll find a pentagram – it’s black with some glass areas on the top of it. You’ll need to activate the pentagram. Then they’ll come.”

Nate watched as Max rolled Emily onto her stomach and put her across his thighs, thumped her back in another effort to get rid of those pesky hiccups. She continued to squeak, her little body jerking every time she did so. Nate’s brow furrowed. Pentagrams. Artifacts. Some mysterious “they”. There was no way Max was playing with a full deck. Maybe Nate should take the baby from him…

“Who is ‘they’?” Nate asked, deciding to indulge his father a little before calling in Children’s Services.

“People,” Max said.

“Humans?”

He shook his head, gave a sad smile. “No. People like Agent Darmon.” Nate thought he saw a flash of pain on Max’s face. “Friends.”

“Why will they come?” Nate asked.

“To help with the fight.” Max stopped administering to his daughter and regarded Nate steadily. “You can tell them what to do.”

Nate finally snorted a laugh, no longer willing to keep up the charade. Time for Max to go back to bed. “Max, what are you talking about? What alien out there is going to take orders from me?”

Max seemed unaffected by Nate’s disbelief. He seemed rather calm, actually, as he looked into his lap, his eyes fixed on nothing. “You’re a king now, Nate.”

Nate’s mouth slowly dropped open. How could that be true while Max was sitting right before him, obviously alive and well? Well, maybe not so well…but still! Max was the king, not Nate.

Max looked at his son. “They’ll follow you. Only you can activate that pentagram. And they will come.” He sighed, a long, weary breath, then hoisted his baby into his arms. “Emily and I are tired,” he said. “We’re going back to bed.”

With that, Max pushed himself to his feet and left the living room, gingerly stepping over the bodies strewn across the floor. He walked silently and Nate never heard the bedroom door open or close.

Disbelief still coursing through his veins, Nate stared open-mouthed at the ceiling. That had been bizarre to say the least. Had it been a dream? He thought about it, then realized Jeremy was still sawing logs somewhere near, so Nate was indeed awake. After days of being nearly mute, Max had arisen in the middle of the night to tell him to go to the pod chamber and conduct some archeology? Send out a beacon – Agent Darmon’s buddies will be along shortly.

Nate grunted and frowned, rolled over onto his side. He didn’t feel like a king. He felt like a country bumpkin sleeping on an uncomfortable couch in New Mexico when he was supposed to be sleeping on a nice soft bed in Boston. Curious, he pulled open his shirt and found the seal still dormant. Why did Max think he was a king?

Because Max was still half-baked, that was why. From what Liz had said, Max’s mind had been poked around in until there wasn’t much left worth keeping. So why should Nate take anything he said for granted?

Because of the way he’d treated Emily.

Realization momentarily stopped all of Nate’s thought processes. Max had managed to get up with the baby, find her some juice, quiet her and take care of her like a person with all of his faculties intact. It wasn’t like Max was screaming for help as soon as Emily had voiced her discomfort. No, it was like Max understood who she was and what she needed and functioned enough to take care of her.

So, if he was with it enough to take care of Emily, was he with it enough to understand Nate’s situation as well?

Nate grimaced in frustration and held his head in his hands. Was it never going to get any easier? Was it never going to make any more sense? It seemed like everything just snowballed all the time, until the ball got bigger and bigger and flattened everything in its path…

“It’s okay.”

Nate felt soft hands on his arms, pulling them away from his head. He opened his eyes to find Alyssa sliding onto the couch beside him, her golden hair fanning out behind her. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a gentle kiss.

“Did you hear that?” Nate asked shakily.

“Uncle Max?” she asked, then grinned when Nate nodded. “I heard that baby hiccupping, too.”

“Is he nuts?”

Alyssa laughed lightly. “I don’t think so. He sounded sane to me.”

“But how can he be? He’s been Mute Man for forever and all of a sudden he’s Mr. Talkative?”

Alyssa’s smile widened and she rubbed against him playfully. “The healing power of love, Nate.”

His brow furrowed.

“He needs Aunt Liz to balance him out, to heal his soul,” she explained softly. “I had no doubt once she was here, he’d start to heal. He’s going to be himself in no time, wait and see.”

Nate was still scowling. “How do you know that? Has this happened before?”

Alyssa nodded slightly. “Yeah. Not this bad, but I’ve seen him pretty messed up before. Liz can always heal him, Nate. They breathe the same air, those two.”

Nate felt a lump in his throat. What was it like to love and be loved that much?

Alyssa pulled him tight, buried her face against his neck. “Let your heart be light,” she whispered against his ear. “Sleep for now. Tomorrow everything changes. But you can be assured of one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m always going to be here, Nate. When the time comes, I will heal you.”

tbc

[Midwest Max]

Part Twenty

The pentagram was smooth and seamless with no power button or any indication of how to turn it on. It looked cheesy – like a prop left over from a bad sci-fi show. Nate lifted his lip into a smirk and gave Alyssa a glance.

“This is it?” he asked skeptically.

At their feet lay other remnants from the bag Max had told him how to find – a silver potato with a swirly design on one side, a book made of metal sheets, and some lumps of something that looked to Nate like unpolished amber. Alyssa pointed to the items.

“Well, none of those are shaped like a pentagon,” she pointed out. Then she gestured to the black thing Nate held in his hand. “And that is, so my guess would be that is it.”

Nate blinked a couple of times. “How do I turn it on? How are you supposed to call anyone on this thing?” He turned it over in his hand, frowning.

“I don’t know,” Alyssa said, mirroring his disappointment. “I’ve never seen it before.”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t?”

She shook her head, bit her lip.

“Doesn’t that make you uneasy?”

Another shake of the head.

“Why not?”

“Why should it?”

“Because, just out of the blue Max comes up with some device you’ve never seen and we’re just supposed to set it off? If you haven’t noticed, Max has been on a little mental vacation of late – how do we know that this thing wasn’t just planted here by that Nicholas guy or that Kevin guy?”

Alyssa snorted a laugh, fell into giggles.

“What?” Nate asked innocently.

“His name is Khivar. Not Kevin.”

“Oh.” Nate flushed, then a wave of hopelessness flooded over him. How was he supposed to fight an enemy that he couldn’t even call by name? He had no idea who these beings were or why they wanted him dead.

“I’ll tell you why the baddies didn’t put that here,” Alyssa said, touching his hand, sending tremors through his body. “Because my dad drove us here, knowing what we were going to do. If it was a bad thing, he wouldn’t have done it.”

Yeah – and why was he waiting outside instead of coming into the pod chamber with them? Nate couldn’t voice that suspicion to her – she loved and trusted Michael even if Nate didn’t.

“Okay, so maybe this thing is legit,” he conceded. “That still doesn’t tell me how to activate it.”

Alyssa gave him a look of utter sympathy, then turned to face him and put her arms around his neck. “You know what?” she said, her voice a soft, sultry whisper. “If my dad wasn’t outside, I’d get on my knees and bow to my king right here.” To punctuate her sentence, she raised an eyebrow and glanced down at the front of his jeans.

Nate was momentarily thrown by the offer, his heart doing a little jerk in his chest before it resumed its normal rhythm. That was also uncharted territory, something Annie would never do, something Nate had never been on the receiving end of. He gulped, a warm flush running over his body.

But it passed quickly as the rest of her words sank in – Michael Guerin was outside and the thought of his fury at finding his baby girl doing that was enough to cool anyone down. On top of it, she’d called him her king. Nate didn’t feel like a king, but he had to acknowledge that’s exactly what he was – he had to contact these people, let them know they needed help.

As if mere thought could evoke it, the pentagram began to whir in his hand and he quickly released Alyssa. They both looked down in astonishment as a white light chased itself around the surface of the device, slowly at first, then quicker and quicker until it almost seemed a steady light. Nate was mesmerized by it, fascinated that it seemed to activate just because he wanted it to. He blinked suddenly as the device let forth with a ring of blue light, passing through both him and Alyssa without hurting them. It felt like a little jolt of static electricity, nothing more than the affects of wearing the wrong shoes on a dry January day. Nate looked up at his girlfriend and breathed a laugh; she grinned back.

“All right, your majesty,” Michael called from the entrance. “Enough playing. Let’s get out here and work.”

Nate glanced to the door of the cave – had that beam gone through Michael, too? Is that how he knew Nate had activated it? He looked down at the device, watched the white lights slow down and then become dark. The whirring sensation faded and the pentagram fell silent.

“That was cool,” Nate said, turning the pentagram this way and that. He then looked at the floor, at the potato. “I wonder what that does.”

“Now, your highness!” came Michael’s order.

Nate jumped slightly, then set down the pentagram and took Alyssa by the hand. They made for the entrance where Michael was waiting outside, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pursed with impatience.

“Did you feel that?” Nate asked, still awed.

Michael nodded. “Felt better than the first time I felt it.”

“The first time?”

“Way back when – knocked me on my ass.”

Nate’s brow furrowed – the sensation he’d gotten wouldn’t knock a moth on its ass. “Why?”

“Someone else activated it.”

“But I thought only the king –“

“It’s a long story.” Michael waved him off with a hand. “Are you ready to start your training?”

Nate frowned – apparently Michael was never going to trust him with their family secrets. “Yes, Obi-Wan,” he muttered.

For once, Michael chose to ignore him. “Alyssa, pumpkin – have a seat out of the way, okay?”

Alyssa frowned. “But I want to help.”

“Not this time.” When she didn’t move, Michael cocked his head to one side and she slowly slinked over to a rock and dropped her butt onto it.

Nate gave her a little smile, trying to make her feel like she hadn’t just been let out…which, of course, she had.

“Brought along some targets,” Michael said as he turned back to Nate and gestured behind them. Along the top of a series of rocks sat a menagerie of pop and beer cans. “We’re going to start by just knocking them off, not necessarily blowing them up or anything.”

As a means of demonstration, he put up his right hand, concentrated briefly, then the last can on the left fell behind the rocks; Nate could hear it tinkling away, desert liter.

“Now you try,” Michael said.

Nate felt silly as he lifted his hand and raised it to the next can. “What do I do?”

“Just imagine it falling off the rock.”

That should be easy enough. He’d imagined the pentagram working and it had, so how hard could this be? In his mind, he saw the can following Michael’s, slipping into the abyss, rolling away with the wind. Of course, he imagined that, but nothing happened.

Nate let out a breath and looked apologetically at his trainer. He’d been hoping to get this over with quickly – so far Michael hadn’t displayed an endless supply of patience. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay,” Michael said, to Nate’s surprise. “It could take a few times. Just relax and try again.”

Nate raised his hand, tried to think of the pop can blowing away in the wind, but instead landed on the thought of Alyssa on her knees before him. He glanced sideways at Michael and hoped he didn’t have the ability to read thoughts. Giving a shake of his head, he tried to will the image away, but it was firmly with him, distracting him. He let out his breath and looked at Alyssa, who was smiling innocently from her perch on the rock.

“Take a little walk,” Michael suggested. “Loosen up. Just relax.”

Nate walked in a small circle, shaking out his muscles and blowing out his breath. He willed the naughty thoughts of Alyssa from his head and came to stand beside Michael again. Concentrating as hard as he could, he raised his hand toward the cans, thought of one of them disintegrating into nothingness…

Nothing happened.

Nate lowered his hand and looked dejectedly at the toes of his boots. From the corner of his eye, he could see Michael cock a hip and put his hands on his waist – was this the end of his tolerance? Was he about to open fire on his new king to vent his frustrations?

“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” Michael suggested, prompting Nate to look at him. “Let’s think of it another way. Let’s assume that you’re under attack, that you need to defend yourself.” He whirled on the cans, one of them bursting into tiny aluminum shards that rained down on the desert sand. Michael grinned. “Imagine that. What would you do?”

Okay, so maybe Nate just needed to think bigger. In his head, he imagined an army of bad guys coming not for him but for Alyssa – he knew his instinct to protect her would always be stronger than the instinct to protect himself. He whirled toward the cans, felt a build up of energy in his palm, a split second of elation at having finally done it, then an overwhelming sense of dread as a fine green mist appeared before him. He screamed, his voice sounding overly-girlie and jumped back, fell on his butt on the ground as the mist quickly dissipated.

“What the fuck was that!” Nate screeched, looking at Alyssa, whose eyes were dark, round circles.

Michael’s mouth was hanging open as he looked down at Max’s son, his eyes as round as his daughters.

“What was it?” Nate asked again, on the verge of hysteria.

“It was…a shield,” Michael said, obviously puzzled. Gathering his composure, he rubbed his temples and sighed. “Is that what you would do when confronted with danger, Nate?”

Nate was still processing the fact that he’d created a shield, the same shield that Max had shown him to prove he was an alien – a shield that still tended to spook the shit out of him. He looked down at his palm.

“Would you just turn opossum?” Michael asked, dropping his hand from his temples.

“It is a manner of defense, Daddy,” Alyssa said.

Michael glanced at her, bewildered. Apparently he didn’t understand passive means of protection. He held his hand out to Nate and pulled him to his feet.

“Look,” he began as Nate brushed himself off. “I’m not saying having the shield is a bad thing. I’m just saying that you need to have an offense as well as a defense. Someday a shield might not be enough to save you. So, let’s try it again, okay? Try not to imagine activating that shield.”

Nate swallowed past his thumping heart and regarded the unharmed cans once again. No shield, he told himself. Big, bright, white light.

Twenty-seven more times he tried. Twenty-seven more times the shield presented itself. Hope sinking, he sat on the sand while Alyssa and Michael held a mini mentoring conference.

“I don’t get it,” Nate heard Michael say in a loud whisper. “Everyone else can do it. Why can’t he?”

Nate hung his head and looked at his shoes. He felt like a failure. The fact that Michael hadn’t gone medieval on his ass for failing was only making it worse. Why couldn’t he do it? It wasn’t like he hadn’t done unexplained things before – like letting Annie lose from Max’s trap, or healing Max, or activating the pentagram. Why couldn’t he blow up a couple of cans?

Nate looked up at the cans. Was it possible that he didn’t have a power of destruction? Maybe Michael was wrong – maybe not all of the hybrids had the ability to kill. Nate didn’t like the idea of killing, hated violence. He’d never even been in a school yard fight when he was a kid. Unlike many people in his region, he didn’t like to hunt, couldn’t imagine putting a bullet or an arrow through something as beautiful as a deer.

As Alyssa and Michael continued to converse behind him, Nate thought of all of the violence he’d seen in the last year – torture at the hands of the FBI, Annie’s death, the podsters disposing of Agent O’Donnell and his men, someone beating the snot out of Max, mind raping him and leaving him for dead. None of these things, of course, included the violence that had occurred before Nate had come to town – the death of Alex Whitman, Max’s torture by the FBI, his mother disposing of a hangar full of soldiers, and God knew what else. Nate’s jaw set in anger. Maybe this was why he couldn’t destroy things – maybe enough was enough.

Maybe there was another way.

tbc