Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) Part 49 1/29/09(WIP)

[behrinthecity]

magikhands- hey! good to see your comments... but what happened with the moving?

I think I definately need to be on the list for a BAD MAX! I know just the way to make him GOOD

hmm now the question is do I want to know how?

Thanks again for all the feeback and I hope you get to read this part soon!

So anyway... here it is!

PART TWENTY-TWO

January 12, 2003
6am

Physical Scheduled. If found coherent, interrogation will continue. Target- subject’s emotions.

Notes: Subject has healed slower than previously. Even with the aid of its own healing power scarring has taken three weeks to fade slightly. Heartbeat is decreasingly erratic each day. Skin still clammy, tremors still evident. Mental faculties seem to be intact. Response time still a bit slow.

The technician copied the doctor’s notes into the computer in the observation room, while glancing at his boss whose attention was keenly focused on the action within the subject’s cell.

Agent Felding ignored the technician. He impatiently watched as the doctor went through a now tiring daily ritual. The recovery was taking too long. Almost one month. He wanted his answers now and he didn’t care if it still was too weak or took its time to speak. As long as it was semi-coherent he would manage.

Max sat dully on the edge of the table they had brought in. For the moment he was left unrestrained, but he knew there were agents hovering in the room, watching for any sudden movements from him against the doctor. As soon as the doctor stepped in, he had let himself go limp, allowing the doctor access to him with ease. He had stopped caring what they did to him and besides this doctor only came in to check his vitals and his mental faculties. After numerous visits, he had come to expect the questions the doctor would ask him causing him to only half-listen. The doctor always started the same way.

“Good morning Max. Do you remember me?” He would say this gently and earnestly, as if trying to gain his trust. Max only thought; why did the man even bother to? But still he responded.

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Good, good,” the doctor would murmur to himself. He stepped closer to Max, still with slight apprehension though Max never moved from the spot the agents would place him after releasing him from his bonds. The only movements from Max were the slight tremors, now barely noticeable, that still wracked his thin, weak body.

The doctor would shine a penlight into his eyes then always test his sight by moving his finger back and forth in front of Max to see if his eyes followed. He would then proceed to take his pulse and listen to his heartbeat as he began the inane questions.

“What’s your full name?”

“Max Evans.”

“What is the last date you remember?”

“June 2, 2002. Graduation day.” After answering the questions so many times Max had started to condense his responses to what he knew the doctor was looking for.

“What’s 2 times 5?”

“Ten.”

“Square that.”

“One hundred.”

“Divide by 20.”

“Five.”

“Subtract three.”

“Two.” The math was always so basic, even when he varied the numbers to actually ‘harder’ ones.

“What’s the total sum of angles for a triangle?”

“180.”

“What color is this?” The doctor would hold up some random object, usually a ball or a card.

Max would pause each time, surprised to see something other than white, black or gray. “Red.”

“Good. Good, your response time is improving.” The doctor praised him.

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

“Do you know why you’re here?”

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

“Do you understand your rights in being here?”

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

The doctor would nod, taking down his last notes. Then patting Max on the knee he would signal to the agents in the back of the room. They would usually lead Max to the corner of the room and restrain him again. He never fought and just sat down where they left him, curling up again. This time though they pushed him into a chair, the restraints already attached. Once he was secure the doctor took a cursory glance and then left the room followed by the agents pushing the table.

Agent Felding turned to the door as the doctor entered. The doctor immediately looked at him and nodded. Agent Felding smiled, it was finally ready.

[behrinthecity]

Thanks alienmom, Timelord, Michelle and J for your comments!

Could things get any worse for our poor Max?

perhaps.

On to the story...

PART TWENTY-THREE

Eight Months after graduation
Kyle’s Dorm- UNM, Albuquerque, New Mexico

Kyle sighed in frustration. Another unsuccessful night. For the past month he and Isabel had traded off in trying to contact Max. The month before that he tried alone once every week, but his powers were too new and uncontrollable. He still randomly froze things and was glad the one time he actually did it to his roommate it was in their room and nobody else was around. That certainly would be hard to explain away.

Also just the fact he still had not gained the confidence that he could control his abilities impeded his progress the most. It didn’t help when the others didn’t want to believe him about Max. It took him an entire month after the group dream walk to convince Isabel to even remotely consider it. Liz was similar to Maria, not willing to allow herself to hope, even in light of her vision. He knew if nothing came of his dreams it would hurt just as much, but he knew Max was alive. Especially after what Isabel told him.

***** ”Kyle would you please stop it! I can’t keep going through this with you. It… hurts.” Her eyes, green in the mystical dreamscape deepened in shade with her grief. He wanted to comfort her, but his need to get her to listen to him was stronger.

“I’m sorry, but you have to believe me, Iz. He’s in trouble. Don’t you want to help him?”

“Of course I do!” She blew up, angry tears dropping down her face. She roughly wiped at them, “I mean I would, if he were alive. But…”

He took her shaky hands catching her watery gaze, “He is. Even though I haven’t gotten through in a month, I know he is. I can feel his… presence in the darkness. I mean, it’s got to be him. And I still remember the time where I saw this blinding white light, before being pushed out—”

She pulled her hands away at that, hugging herself. “What—what did you say?”

“I can feel him. I know—”

“No I mean, about the white light. What was that?” She asked breathily as she tried to compose herself.

“Oh well… after I froze my dad I knew the dream I had had right before had to be a dream walk. So my dad asked me to try to purposely dream walk Max. When I did, I thought I connected with him, like I said I can sense him in the darkness. Before I thought I had failed, but the more I tried, the more it just seemed like something was blocking me from fully connecting. I don’t know how to explain it.” He ran a hand through his hair frustratingly, “That night when I tried I saw a white light, I thought I had gotten through, you know seeing that white room, but I lost it. I felt like I was physically pushed away, and the next thing I know I’m staring at my own house. It was all so fast.” He shook his head at a loss. He didn’t know what else to say. He was just glad that he got Isabel to stay long enough in the dream walk to hear him out.

She bit her lip, sniffing slightly as if trying desperately not to cry. “That happened to me too, one time.” She finally replied in a soft, low voice.

Kyle said nothing, but just waited for her to go on.

“The… When Pierce captured him and… Michael and I were in there, I tried to dream walk him again. I wanted to find out if he was still ok… and tell him we were there, that we would get him out soon.” She tearfully spoke, her voice breathy as she gasped out her sobs in between. “And… I… saw a white light too. I knew he was still alive, but… was worried that that wouldn’t be true for long. I knew he was in more trouble than we thought. That he was in some kind of… trauma.” Her shoulders shook as the words tumbled out of her and Kyle had to steady her, drawing her close in his arms.

He still didn’t say anything, allowing her time to calm down. He gently stroked her hair, a part of him reveling in its soft, silky feel. She shifted out of his arms taking deep breaths. “You said that you saw him… tortured with...” she trailed off unable to speak of the horror Max suffered. “I think that might have been what happened to him then. I want to believe you Kyle, but it’s been so long. How do you… how do you know?”

“I… I don’t really. It’s just a feeling, you know?” He had to be honest with her. Over the past month he constantly doubted himself, but knowing he had powers now and remembering his vivid nightmares of Max… they had to be dream walks. He had to believe it.

She nodded. “Ok.”

He looked at her, unsure. “Ok?”

She gave him a tight determined smile. “I’m going to try again. We’re going to keep trying.” *****

Oddly, besides his father, Michael was the most supportive. That is, when he finally found out. Apparently he ended up going to be with Liz and Isabel, arriving two weeks after the group dream walk. After one of his desperate pleas at Isabel, he ended up connecting to Michael somehow and surprisingly he actually listened. After hearing all he said he was quiet for a moment, his face utterly unreadable, but then that was Michael. Then he spoke three words before severing the connection, “Please keep trying.”

So he did. But time and again he was met with nothing. Still he persevered, each time believing that it will be the one that succeeds. He couldn’t stop, not after knowing what was happening to Max. He had saved their lives and he was his friend. Plus his dad’s need to be able to save him kept him trying to find some sort of information to Max’s whereabouts. He hated seeing his father seemingly without purpose, a sense of failure and uselessness emanating from him. So each night he would try until he wore himself out.

After resting for ten minutes he attempted for his second time that night. He focused on his breaths, counting slowly to four as he inhaled and exhaled. After several sets he concentrated on his friend. He no longer had to whisper the person’s name, he just drew on a memory of the person—the stronger the better. For Max, it was when he healed him. That brief moment where he stared up at Max’s retreating hand, the glow dissipating as it drew further away was life changing for him. He did not comprehend what happened until much later, but he did know it was important. He focused on his friend’s face, seeing the look of exhaustion, wariness and slight relief etched upon it. At this point darkness usually took over the image, but this time he saw Max’s face change. It was far paler, gaunt, emphasizing the black circles under his eyes. His hair was shorter… and then slowly Kyle realized Max was wearing scrubs instead. He slowly looked around and saw he was indeed in the white room.

~ ~ ~

He was stretched out on the table. The voices of his parents echoed all over the room. Some times it had been of his friends, but more and more they would play the tape of his parents speaking at his… grave.

“Hey sweetheart…” he always heard his mother tearfully start. “I’m so sorry we haven’t been here since…” she would trail off in most of her sentences, replacing the ends with sobs.

Her voice would fade a little, but he could still hear her. “God Phillip, what kind of parents are we?”

“Diane, don’t blame yourself. Those…” he always paused taking a deep breath as if he was censoring himself, “agents made it difficult. What could we really do, every time we stepped out of the house one of them accosted us.”

“It was difficult. Not impossible.” His mother’s voice adopted an edge of anger when she said that. But immediately she would sigh, “Oh… what are we doing? We finally get a chance to visit him and we’re fighting.” Her voice would sound closer then, “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I wanted so much to protect you. To show you how much we loved you. How much we still love you. We miss you and your sister everyday. I…” she would break off at this point, though her sobs were quieter, Max could still hear them.

“Son… I… I never really told you often enough how proud I was of you, how much I loved you. What you did… I wish you hadn’t, but I understand why. I wish you could have told us earlier about yourself, I wish I could have gotten to know you more… I mean, for God’s sake, you’re my son.” His father would haltingly take over, his frustration evident by the end.

“The thing is, we’re going away for awhile. With everything that’s happened, your mother and I have decided we need some time away… we don’t want to leave, but we need to. We’ll come back… we won’t abandon you, not ever. You were our son the moment we found you. It’s just so hard to admit that we’ve lost you and to know we never truly knew you. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry son.” His father’s guilt was misplaced, for Max knew the only one that prevented them from knowing him, was him.

His mother would speak again, somehow finding her voice, “I hope… you’re finally at peace Max. That you’re happy, up there in Heaven. I know you have to be there, being the miracle you were. I love you.” It was quiet after that, save for a bit of shuffling and a soft smack… perhaps a kiss from his mother; then the soft crunching of grass as they walked away.

He could never hide his emotions when he heard them speak. Before he had shouted out for them to stop it. To leave them alone. That he did not remember anything else to tell them, but they never relented. After a while he could only whimper out protests as he cried. He hated showing weakness, but in here, he couldn’t even control that. Since he first woke up in here, he was at their mercy—not that they really had any.

He didn’t understand why they kept doing this, he couldn’t tell them anything different. He even broke down one time telling them to put him in the deprivation tank again. Maybe he might remember what he said. Again when he came out of it, he remembered nothing. He just felt weaker and colder. The shivers, tremors whatever it was that constantly wracked his body had increased in intensity and frequency. All his suggestion ended up doing was incurring the wrath of the head agent more. Max had come to fear him more than Pierce. This man enjoyed his pain far more than Pierce ever did. It was why he wasn’t dead yet, as much as he begged for it. When he pleaded for the lives of his family and friends he often paired it with his own wish for death.

Yet he was still here. Always wondering if they had acted on their threats, that one of the times they came in they would tell him somebody was dead—and all because of him.

The voices of his parents continued, but this time it ended differently. He was shocked out of his thoughts with his mother’s scream. He sat up as far as his bonds allowed him screaming for his mom.

A crashing sound was heard soon followed by, “Ahhh... Phillip!” Glass continued to crunch as he heard a muted “Diane, no…”

“No. No. No!!!!” He continued to shout out, but the screaming and crashing noises continued in a loop. No agent came in, nor spoke to him through the intercom. He squeezed his eyes willing it to stop, but with his hands bound he couldn’t cover his ears and the sickening sounds continued to play. When he opened his eyes though, he saw the oddest sight—Kyle.

~ ~ ~

“Yes!” He couldn’t help himself, after all the failures he was so happy to actually see the setting of his previous nightmares. “Max, buddy you don’t know how glad I am to see you.” So wrapped up in his success, he neglected to notice the tear tracks on Max’s disbelieving face as well as the horrible sounds echoing around the room.

Max just shook his head, whispering no over and over again. He strained against his cuffs even more trying to shut out the sounds of his parents’ deaths and the image of either his now dead friend or the first sign of his insanity.

Kyle finally snapped out of his victory and tried to snap Max out of whatever stupor he was in. But he kept moving his head away, squeezing his eyes shut. “You’re not here. You’re a ghost or a figment of my imagination. You’re not here…” He began to chant to himself.

“Evans, it’s me. I got my powers; I’m actually here… dream walking you.”

That caused Max to open his eyes in surprise, but again he refused to believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing. Knowing he couldn’t move away off the table, he did the only thing he could do, he slowly lowered himself, hoping he could will himself to pass out.

Kyle saw the shaky movement and went around the table to stop him, “Max you’ve got to listen to me. We know you’re alive; you have to help us find you. Please.”

“You can’t be here.” Max gritted out as he willed himself to black out everything.

“Wait, no don’t do that. Don’t you want to get out of here? Max, please, give me anything that can help us find you. You—”

“No… you can’t be here!” Max vehemently whispered out as his head once more contacted with the table. The last sight Kyle saw was of Max’s eyes shut once more, tears flowing and his entire body shivering on the metal table.

~ ~ ~

Kyle’s Dorm- UNM, Albuquerque, New Mexico

He woke with a jolt, an inaudible gasp escaping from his lips. He was glad, seeing that his roommate was there that night. He rubbed his hand down his face, wiping the sweat that had collected on his forehead. After drinking some water and taking deep breaths to calm himself, he laid down once more for a final dream walk of the night—this time to Isabel.

[behrinthecity]

I think this is just in time to keep my 'weekly' schedule. Also, with all the revisions needed, the next few parts will probably be posted in weekly installments too.

Thanks everyone for the feedback!

LTF- Will reply to your PM soon, just had to get this posted and have to dash out for awhile.

Timelord- They just told Max that his parents were killed.

alienmom, cherie and J- As pointed out Max probably wouldn't believe it was a dreamwalk if they did... and also it probably wouldn't work too well when half of the group seems to not believe Max is alive in the first place.

Michelle in Yonkers-

How can they tell themselves that he's not human, and that makes it all right for them to do this? And how can they observe his deep love for his family and friends, and not realize he's more human than they are.

Really shows the power of prejudices and how deep it goes...

magikhands- 130 miles? Yeesh-- hope it all settles down soon!

LTL- If only Liz would allow herself to believe Max is alive...

Scottie- Welcome back! Your questions about Phillip and Diane will be answered in this part... about the information the agents think Max knows will still be awhile longer though.

And finally...

PART TWENTY-FOUR

The week before
New Hampshire- Evans' Summer Home

Diane hummed softly to herself as she watered the plants. They had been living in their summer home for months, only returning to Roswell once for Christmas. Just as she placed the watering can down she heard a loud knock. The peacefulness of the area was instantly shattered by her startled scream as she swerved around ready to face the intruder, her heart beating rapidly.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I rang the doorbell a few times, but then I thought I heard someone back here, so I thought I’d just come around. Um… I’m the repair man you called?” he greeted her uncertainly.

After her initial shock wore off, she smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. It hadn’t for about eight months now. “Oh, right. Silly me, I lost track of time back here. I’m sorry, yes; let me show you where the problem is.”

She led him into the house, completely unaware that the entire time she was being recorded.

~ ~ ~

Eight months after graduation
Canada
Liz and Isabel’s House- Isabel’s bedroom

Her eyes opened suddenly taking in the light of the early dawn. Her eyes lacked the redness and puffiness they had before she had accepted her brother’s death. However, as she slowly stood up to open her window, breathing in the cool morning dew, a small tear rolled down her cheek. She let it fall, lost in a world of grief, guilt and hope.

She wondered if she had been wrong to stop, to move on—no, to give up. ‘Moving on’ was just a sugar coated reason. In the pale light, all she could see was her brother, pale surrounded by white tiles. As she dwelled upon his image she soon matched the tear tracks that had lined his face. She knew she should be trying harder since Kyle told her he was alive. But she couldn’t take the pain anymore. She was a coward. She still was. Even now, with visual proof through her connection with Kyle, she was afraid to try. To see the darkness again. To reconfirm that her brother was dead and buried.

She turned away from the window and immediately met with her reflection from her vanity mirror. She continued to stare, mentally berating herself for the state she was in, for her cowardice and faithlessness. Yet the fear remained evident on her face. She couldn’t do it. She shook her head, dropping her gaze, ashamed to even face herself. As soft sobs began to take over she placed a hand to her mouth, desperately trying to suppress them. Once she had achieved control over her emotions, she stood up straight, refusing to look at the mirror and went to get ready for the day.

~ ~ ~

The next day
New Hampshire- Evans’ Summer Home

Phillip woke with a jerk, a soft breath escaping. Sitting up he glanced down at his slowly waking wife. “Honey?” he quietly spoke as he touched her cheek.

She opened her eyes fully at his touch, offering him her usual mournful smile. “I’m up.” She leaned up towards him for a gentle kiss. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” he replied, though he remained distracted by his swirling thoughts.

“How did you sleep?” he asked after a moment.

Diane silently studied her husband noticing his guarded and confused expression and carefully answered, “Same as you.”

Sighing, Phillip motioned towards the bathroom with his head, saying, “I think showers and coffee are in order then, since I feel like I could use a few more hours of sleep.”

Stifling a yawn, Diane nodded. “Good idea.”

Quietly they moved into the bathroom and turned on the faucets full blast. Surrounded by the rushing water they stood closely to each other speaking in hushed tones.

“You were really in there too again, right?” Phillip started, as he brushed a few strands of Diane’s hair back.

“Yeah. Still kind of incredible to experience, isn’t it?”

“Definitely. I still have trouble understanding how it’s possible. Even after… everything.” He pulled her closer.

Leaning against his chest she sighed. “I’m glad she and Jesse managed to work things out. After seeing how miserable they were without each other…”

“Jesse is a good man. Hopefully we’ll all be together again.”

The steady roar of water prevailed in the bathroom as they fell silent. Observing the result of their paranoia gushing around them, Diane finally broached the purpose of their daughter’s latest visit, “Phillip…do you really think they’re there?”

Frowning, he glanced at the door and tightly responded, “We’ll find out soon enough.”

With that he lowered the amount of water running in the sink and splashed water on his face to remove the fog from his head. He turned off both faucets and, armed with the knowledge of surveillance methods from prior legal investigations, he strode out to begin a meticulous search of the typical spots such devices could be placed.

~ ~ ~

Two hours later he stood tensely in the kitchen. He stared intently at his cupped hand, his body shaking slightly with fury. Their bedroom, the living room and the kitchen. Many of his and Diane’s private and intimate interactions had occurred there, and to think others had been listening in the entire time. He angrily shook his head at the small equipment in his hand. The nerve of those bastards, after all they’d done to them… Unable to control himself he threw the recording devices into their trash compactor and pressed the on button hard. He didn’t let go until the crunching noise had turned into a constant, grinding whine.

Finally he released the button, shuffling back wearily. As his anger dissipated, he suddenly felt extremely tired. He heavily sat down on a nearby chair, leaning his head on his hand. Diane found him in the same position minutes later. He felt her hand gently touch his shoulder. He reached for it and pulled her in front of him.

“Are you ok?” she asked in concern.

Still holding on to her hand, he smiled at her trying to reassure her. “Yeah.” But his smile faltered and he shook his head. “It’s just… I thought it was over.”

“We all did.” Her voice remained quiet. Settling in the chair facing her husband her voice began to tremble under her fear. “What do you think it means?”

Though he wished he could shield Diane from anymore uncertainty, fear and grief, the situations they had become exposed to left him utterly clueless. He hated being bereft of any knowledge for it made him feel helpless. And now… Rubbing his thumb on her cold, quivering hand he replied, “I’m afraid to know.”

~ ~ ~

That Weekend
Roswell Cemetery

Having come home for the weekend, Kyle walked purposely up to Max’s grave. Though he hadn’t picked up on it in the dream walk, he realized the next day what had upset Max enough to allow him to get through. Once he consciously remembered the sounds in that white room he went to warn Isabel that night, hoping it was just a fabrication. And if it was, he knew where they were getting the voices from.

When he reached the grave, he immediately scoured the small area. He finally found it behind the grave, at the base. Those bastards he thought, his anger building more and more. As he inspected it, he wondered if there were more recording devices, on him, the others and their homes. He knew he could destroy this one easily, but just as he was about to crush it, he wondered if he could use it to help Max. If they were still playing the conversations to him maybe he could get a message to him. He would have to be careful though, so as not to raise suspicions. They would all be in danger again if they found out he knew the truth.

He gently placed it back for the moment. He had to tell his dad and Maria his plan. As he began to leave he realized he had stepped over where Max’s body lay. Wait, Max wasn’t there— he was alive, in the white room. He suddenly realized that none of them had even thought to check just who the hell they buried. His eyes widened: if they proved it wasn’t Max then Maria and Liz would have to believe him about Max. With that thought he quickly ran to his car, a new sense of purpose and hope within him.

[behrinthecity]

Sirio- welcome to the story and thanks for posting! Sorry again for the wait.

lvlyfem- welcome! heh heh ahh I know that feeling of being sucked into a story when RL work needs to be done! thanks for taking the time to read mine and YES this story will be finished (the ending is technically written, it's just getting to it will take awhile.)

Scottie-- ahh Scottie, thanks for constantly checking up on this story!

LTF- thank you so much, I just really hope to keep it up!

Anyway due to the LOOONG gap between posts this time I've decided to include a recap from earlier parts as well. I hope it's relatively easy to follow! So without further postponing... enjoy.



Previously…

On the other side of the cemetery Kyle stood, hands in pockets. He stoically stared down at the headstone still seeming freshly placed in the earth. He stood a bit off centered and a few steps away from the stone, remembering what had become of his friend’s body—his face.
…

“Those sons of bitches shot him a third time.” Mrs. Evans was openly crying by now and Mr. Evans did not elaborate.
…

Maria’s shock from the past hour’s events was beginning to wear off as it turned to anger. “What do you mean a third time? Where?”

Mrs. Evans finally spoke. “His face. You can’t even tell…” she broke off as one more sob came out, “It was his face.”
…

A crashing sound was heard soon followed by, “Ahhh... Phillip!” Glass continued to crunch as Max heard a muted “Diane, no…”
…

“Evans, it’s me. I got my powers; I’m actually here… dream walking you.”

“You can’t be here.” Max gritted out as he willed himself to black out everything.

“Wait, no don’t do that. Don’t you want to get out of here? Max, please, give me anything that can help us find you. You—”

“No… you can’t be here!” Max vehemently whispered out as his head once more contacted with the table. The last sight Kyle saw was of Max’s eyes shut once more, tears flowing and his entire body shivering on the metal table.
…

When he reached the grave, he immediately scoured the small area. He finally found it behind the grave, at the base. As he inspected it, he wondered if there were more recording devices, on him, the others and their homes. He knew he could destroy this one easily, but just as he was about to crush it, he wondered if he could use it to help Max. If they were still playing the conversations to him maybe he could get a message to him.

He gently placed it back for the moment. He had to tell his dad and Maria his plan. As he began to leave he realized he had stepped over where Max’s body lay. Wait, Max wasn’t there— he was alive, in the white room. He suddenly realized that none of them had even thought to check just who the hell they buried. His eyes widened: if they proved it wasn’t Max then Maria and Liz would have to believe him about Max. With that thought he quickly ran to his car, a new sense of purpose and hope within him.

~ ~ ~


PART TWENTY-FIVE

Thirty Minutes Later
Deluca Home- Roswell, New Mexico

“So what did Kyle say?” Amy softly drawled as she continued labeling her latest shipment of alien merchandise.

“Hmm?” Maria intoned, barely looking up from her task of meticulously unwrapping the products, counting it off and handing it to her mother.

Placing the item down on the table, Amy shifted towards her daughter. After clearing her throat, she called out in a more serious tone, “Maria.”

Marking down a number, she reluctantly lifted her head and faced her mom. “He just wanted to know when I wanted to hang out. He mentioned something about a surprise.”

“So what are you still doing here, young lady?”

“Uh… helping you? And… young lady? Mom, I’m in college already.”

Amy sighed, she had missed her daughter and after what happened to her two friends, she had been so worried something would happen to Maria. But as she saw Maria miserably go on with her life in Roswell, only hearing the genuine smile in her voice when she was at school, she realized she needed to give her daughter space. For years her daughter had been creating that space through her vague explanations, silences and absences. And Amy could only watch on the sidelines her angry, worried words going unheeded. But then eight months ago, Maria had finally listened and since then had ceased being the vibrant young woman she had always been. “Exactly.”

“What?” She held her daughter’s full attention now, her dark eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

Amy glanced down at her long fidgeting fingers as she began, “For the last few years I’ve feared I was going to lose you. I hardly knew what was going on with you, so much that I didn’t even know about your record deal in New York until you had already returned from it. At first I thought I was working too much, going to too many conventions, but now I know what I really did wrong."

Amy forged on with her confession, ignoring Maria's shaking head. "I stopped trusting you. Trusting you that when I couldn’t protect you, that you would make the right decisions to protect yourself. And I realize that I can’t protect you from everything. That I have to let you make your own mistakes, while still praying you’ve at least learned from mine. So just go out and enjoy your life, Maria. I don’t need your help with this,” she paused in her speech to motion towards the gimmicky products, “What I need is to know that you’re happy.”

“I am happy Mom. I don’t mind helping you out.” But Amy still saw no smile on her daughter’s face.

“Honey, you go from uncontainable laughter over the phone as you relay stories about your new college friends to practically silence in this house. Go see what Kyle has to show you and uh…" Amy trailed off as she rubbed a hand behind her suddenly heated neck. She tried to continue her thought, "find out if…”

Amy stopped as she finally heard a soft laugh from her daughter. “I saw him going for his shift hardly two hours ago, mom. Jim won’t be free until later tonight.”

“All right.” With a roll of her eyes Amy lightly pushed at her daughter’s shoulder. “Now that you know my plans for the evening, why don’t you go and make some of your own?” She tried to give a stern look, but her thoughts were already starting to turn to a certain deputy causing her lips to curve upward.

“You sure?” Maria’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Yeah. Go on; just give me a call if you end up going out for dinner.”

Maria nodded, allowing a small smile to remain on her face. Little did Amy know that the smile came from relief that she still did not suspect a thing about the secret Maria had held for so long.

~ ~ ~

As Maria left her house she leisurely walked over to the Valentis’ place, not eager to find out Kyle’s surprise. When he had called her over to his house, his voice leaping with excitement, she suspected it was probably something alien-related. It was why she stayed in the house as long she did.

She had been trying to move on all these months, but every time Kyle mentioned a dream walk, the white room, Max, it just made it harder. Each step forward she took was set back with the mention of Max’s name. She knew it was wrong to blame him, he really believed Max was alive.

She wished she could too, but she knew she wasn’t strong enough if it all turned out to be wrong. She didn’t think any less of Kyle for doing all of this, in fact she kind of admired his strength and determination, but at the same time she wished he would stop.

Though she had walked slowly she soon found herself outside the Valentis’ door. She took a deep breath, clearing her mind and knocked.

~ ~ ~

Within moments Kyle had ushered her in to the kitchen where Jim was fiddling with some machine. As she sat down in confusion, Kyle explained that they were trying to trace an electronic bug he had found by Max’s grave.

“You what?” Maria exclaimed as she jumped to her feet.

“I heard something really strange going on in my latest dream walk with Max,” Kyle began to explain. As soon as he mentioned the words dream and walk Maria made a face of impatient disbelief. Kyle ignored it and continued, “It sounded like his parents’ voices. I had my suspicions and this morning I went over to the cemetery and I found the bug hidden right behind his tombstone.” His voice began to adopt a hardened edge as his anger of the discovery returned. “I almost crushed it, but I thought what if we could use it to our advantage? It could help us find Max!” Kyle’s fury dissipated as his excitement at that prospect filled him once more and he turned to watch his father try to catch the transmitter’s signal.

Having never used the program, Jim took his time tracing the signal’s source. He tuned out Kyle and Maria as he continued to try and figure out the proper commands.

“Anyway I thought we could stage a conversation there. It’s a long shot, but just maybe the agents will play that to Max too, and he’ll finally believe me.” His hopeful face turned back to Maria.

Maria sighed, trying to hold back her comments about it being more than a long shot because Max was long gone. But the bug did cause her to question. Most likely it was there to find out if they knew something about Michael, Isabel and Liz, but... there was the remotest chance Kyle was right… He was so hopeful, even his dad seemed to have a new sense of purpose to him. So even though she knew it would end in nothing she grudgingly agreed. “Fine. What do you want me to say?”

Just as she asked Jim mumbled, “It doesn’t seem to be working. They probably scrambled the signal. I don’t think we can trace it, son.”

“Can I try?” Kyle asked his father.

“Be my guest,” he replied as he got up from the chair, allowing Kyle to sit there.

As Kyle started to tap out commands and furtively stared at the screen, Jim moved towards Maria. Just as he was about to ask how she was, she spoke, not taking her eyes off of Kyle. “Are there more of those?”

Jim glanced at Kyle in confusion for a moment but quickly realized she was referring to the recording device. “Just at the Evans place.”

“How can you be sure?” Maria’s voice was taut, her nerves once again on edge.

“I expected as much, not at Max’s grave of course, but in our houses, maybe even the Crashdown. I’ve had a few of my buddies who owed me a couple of favors keep an eye out on our places here. And I’ve done several sweeps over the months; they couldn’t have gotten in to plant any. It’s probably why they resorted to the grave. They knew that’s the one place everyone would let their guard down.”

Maria glanced at the floor for a moment trying to take deep calming breaths. After a few moments she lifted her head and asked, “So where did you get that?” She briefly released an arm, from its tightly wrapped position around her waist, to point at the machine that Kyle seemed to be tapping at harder as the minutes passed.

Completely oblivious to his surroundings, Kyle continued to type the tracing command becoming increasingly frustrated as he received the ‘unable to trace’ message every time. He softly swore to himself as he steadily took his anger out on the machine, his strokes hitting harder each time. Yet, he kept hearing the low beep signaling his failure, the repeated tones irking him. He had already checked out all the options that could be preventing the trace and his patience was wearing thin.

Still explaining to Maria about how he got the machine, Jim started to cast concerned glances towards Kyle. “So thanks ironically to some ex-FBI friends of mine, the Roswell sheriff's department is advancing into the new technological generation. I got to hand it to Hanson; for once his idea was a good one.”

Maria smirked at Jim’s comment, but then a sudden flash caught her eye and she jerked her head towards Kyle.

As he had continued angrily to urge the program to work Kyle had not realized the faint trails of green flowing from his hands. He absent-mindedly scratched at the top of his hands as he once again scoured the help options to see if he missed anything. Seeing all the same points he closed the help window and recommenced his repetitive strokes. However, a sudden burst of green shot from his fingers as he did.

Immediately the Valenti house was filled with frantic beeping from the computer as Kyle’s eyes were assaulted by rapid flashes as the locator flickered in various locations every few seconds. In a panic Kyle stabbed at the exit key while waving his hand over the machine hoping he could fix it with some power. It took a few moments of calling his name and his father actually grabbing his arm before Kyle realized his father was once again beside him.

“Kyle! What happened?” Jim shouted as he tried to shut down the program.

Slowing his movements slightly, Kyle replied, “I’m sorry dad. I don’t know how it happened but I think I broke it. The program is going hay-wire. I’m sorry… I was just trying to find out where Max—”

Kyle broke off mid-sentence as the beeping suddenly stopped.

Maria, who had remained in the corner covering her ears, lowered her arms as she tentatively moved closer to the Valentis. Their hands still tangled on the keyboard, she peeked over their heads to glance at the screen. There silently flashing in one corner of the screen was the message: trace complete.

In a hushed tone, almost afraid to break the quiet, Maria inquired, “What happened to the sound?”

The question seemed to end the trance the Valenti men had found themselves in and they slowly removed their hands from the machine. As Kyle shakily poked at the slightly deformed speakers he answered, “The speakers melted, I guess…”

“So… how is it working at all?”

Taking a glance at his hands, he saw nothing green. He shrugged then and leaned his head against his hand as he replied, “I have no idea.”

Jim finally joined in, clearing his throat first. “Well whatever it was, it seems the location is Langley, Virginia.” He looked at Maria and Kyle.

“So that’s where he is?” Kyle asked

“I don’t really know son, I mean I'm not sure how accurate this machine itself is, especially with a scrambled signal and after what just happened…” he shook his head as he trailed off. But then spying the little hope deflating within Kyle, he quickly remedied that, “But it’s a place to start. If the last few years and even these past months are anything to go by, anything is possible.” His face, lined by the weariness of that time, began to show signs of hope; a determined light returning to his eyes.

“I’ll print it out and start a search on possible bases, hospitals and abandoned facilities where he might be held in that area. Hopefully narrow the search down. Why don’t you two go on ahead to the cemetery and implement your other idea? I have to make a call to see about replacing this computer before they realize it’s gone. I’ll meet you two there.”

“All right,” Kyle agreed, while Maria just nodded her head as she continued to stare at the screen. She felt Kyle’s arm on hers as he steered her towards the door and on to his car. “So I was thinking it’d go like this…”

~ ~ ~

Twenty minutes later
Roswell Cemetery

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back here.”

She heard him release a sad sigh, causing her to finally turn away from the carved stone to face him. As their gazes met he replied, “I was told I’d find you here.”

“Just can’t let go, you know?” Maria’s voice was constricted as she recited the crafted words. She was still uncomfortable with Kyle’s idea and its unsettling implication, which was further compounded by her growing panic that the agents would see through the act and return. Fortunately, her discomfort only made her more convincing.

“I guess.” Kyle tried to sound closed off as he prayed for his plan to work. “I mean it’s not like I knew him that well, though at times it feels like I know him better now that he’s gone.”

“What do you mean?” Maria hugged herself tighter, thinking *when would this be over?*

“Well think about it. How many real conversations did Max and I have? And now… it feels like I’ve said more to him than I ever did. Even with my attempts to stay away.”

After a moment’s pause, Kyle silently motioned for Maria to move closer to the headstone, to try and make it sound like she had sat down by it.

She bit her lip as she did and finally releasing it she commented breathily, “It takes time—moving on.” The truest words she had been told to speak.

“I don’t know how you’re able to keep coming here.” Kyle paused for a moment as if he were looking at all the headstones, when instead he silently centered himself to hold the disdain in his tone. “I mean… it’s enough to make you want to jump off a bridge, or something.”

“That’s not funny.” Maria’s throat began to feel sore under her emotional strain and she rigidly lifted a hand to it.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just having a hard time dealing. Two friends gone before we even officially graduate and after we just have to go on and pretend things are normal. And then… we come back to be surrounded by all this.”

“What is normal? I’ve still yet to find it.”

“Huh. Good point.”

“Kyle—”

“Do you ever feel like they’re almost calling you for help?” He murmured this, but leaned a little closer to the headstone to ensure the question was picked up.

“That’s why I come.” Her soft reply came as a sigh.

“How does it help?”

“Some moments it… almost brings peace. It’s not really them that are calling Kyle, it’s you.” Maria allowed a minute pause before she pretended to recover her comment, “That is… I mean something inside of you.”

Kyle cleared his throat.

“So why were you looking for me?”

“Oh yeah… well you know we’re both back for the weekend, midterms are finally over, I thought we could just hang out together, see a movie. I’ve still got a coupon to use at Videorama.”

A soft snort escaped her at Kyle’s small ad-lib about the coupon. “Sure. Any movie you had in mind?”

“Well,” Kyle draped an arm around Maria’s tense shoulders to steer her a little away from the grave and its electronic bug. “I was thinking maybe Rob Roy.”

They spoke no more after that, focusing on their deliberate steps away from the grave. When they reached a distance Kyle had guessed the bug could not pick up very well on, they stopped.

Staring back at Max’s headstone, Maria whispered, “God, I just want this to be over.”

“I do too.” Kyle squeezed Maria’s arm comfortingly.

After a moment Kyle moved to the headstone and picked up the offending device behind the grave. For a moment he wondered if he should still keep it in case Max needed a stronger hint, but the more he thought about the agents listening in all those months the angrier he got. Soon he could not think clearly through the fog of fury within his mind and he dropped the electronic bug decisively stomping on it. He did not look up until he heard the quiet crunch of its destruction.

As his head lifted up from the ground he saw his dad walking towards him and Maria.

Having had watched Kyle the entire time, Maria followed suit gazing at Jim's nearing form.

“Hey kids, well I’ve started a search, it’s now just a waiting game.”

“Thanks Dad,” Kyle stated sincerely.

“No Kyle, thank you. I had no idea what to do or where to start until you found out what you did. I really hope we find him.”

Maria couldn’t it take it anymore. “You have. He’s right underneath us,” she harshly whispered as she felt herself slowly beginning to break down.

“Actually, I don’t think he is,” Kyle spoke resolutely. His father and Maria just looked at him, one in dawning realization and the other with incredulity. “We never saw the body. We just took what we were told at face value! All we know is that there was a body buried, we just don’t know whose.” He let that statement sink in for a moment before turning to his dad, “Dad is there any way we could find out?”

“We could exhume the body, but that would bring too much attention to it. If the agents really are listening and watching us, they’ll know something is up. We’d be putting ourselves in danger.”

While he said this, Maria stood perfectly still staring down at the ground beginning to hyperventilate and regretting her decision to stop using cypress oil.

“Damn it!” Kyle swore in frustration, sinking to the ground. As he sat he slammed his hand against the ground in another burst of anger, which was soon followed by a blinding light in his eyes.

Instantly he saw a tall, dark-haired agent arguing with an older agent with sparse, graying hair. The scene rapidly shifted to several agents roughly handling Max’s prone body, his red robe dragging on the ground.

“What do we do about his family? They’ll want to see his body,” he heard one of the men masked in black ask.

The older agent came into view again. “You’re right.” His tone was ominous as he raised a gun upon the man who spoke shooting him twice in the chest.

The man fell instantly and the older agent bent down to remove the fallen agent's mask. The black cloth was pulled away, revealing the same dark-haired agent who had argued with him before.

The older agent lifted a finger to his lips signaling the dying agent to be quiet. He stood up pointing the gun at the frightened agent’s face and shot him one more time. “Problem solved.”

Kyle gasped as he focused once more on his surroundings. His father and Maria rushed over to him to see if he was all right. “It’s not Max. I saw… it was a flash.” The words rushed out of Kyle as he tried to control his breathing. “The body… it’s an agent. He argued with one of them, I think the guy was of higher rank, because he shot him. He shot him just like Max had been, and then right in the face. The agent looked enough like Max to be passed off as… they killed one of their own...”

By this time, Kyle’s voice had trailed off into a mere whisper as he realized how ruthless the agents were. No one was safe from them.

[behrinthecity]

alienmom-

i just saw it!! thought my eyes were playing tricks on me!! now off to read!

no tricks. But do tell me, what did you think of it?

LTF-

Hope you got some rest!

I managed to get enough to crank out these next two parts. Thanks!

rigel- Thanks and check your PM .

Flamehair and Emz80m- Welcome and thanks for posting!

LTL- hey! nice seeing your comments again! and yep, you guessed right-- can't post until you write something!

Reading what Kyle and Maria are going through is very difficult but so well-done -- probably because it's so well-done. I sympathize with both their points of view (except that Kyle's is more likely to bring about Max's rescue), but Maria has been through hell and back, and it's hard not to sympathize with her too.

Very happy to hear that... I'm always worried that some of the characters won't seem sympathetic at all... especially when everyone wanted to attack Maria back when... (but I must say through shock and amusement I totally understood the reactions to that!)

Scottie and MiY-- you guys are hilarious! And oh! Thank you for posting a link to my other story MiY!!

So this part is quite short, but I PROMISE the next part will be posted within two days, it's already in the hands of my awesome beta. So see you sometime Wednesday! (And while you guys enjoy this little part, it's my turn to get back into some fics!)

And finally without further postponing...

Previously…

Jim answered, clearing his throat first. “… It seems the location is Langley, Virginia.”
…

“Just can’t let go, you know?” Maria’s voice was constricted as she recited the crafted words.

“I guess.” Kyle tried to sound closed off as he prayed for his plan to work. “I mean it’s not like I knew him that well, though at times it feels like I know him better now that he’s gone.”

“What do you mean?” Maria hugged herself tighter, thinking *when would this be over?*

“Well think about it. How many real conversations did Max and I have? And now… it feels like I’ve said more to him than I ever did. Even with my attempts to stay away.”

After a moment’s pause, Kyle silently motioned for Maria to move closer to the headstone, to try and make it sound like she had sat down by it.
…
Murmuring close to the headstone, Kyle asked, “Do you ever feel like they’re almost calling you for help?”
…
After a moment Kyle picked up the offending device behind the grave. He could not think clearly through the fog of fury within his mind and he dropped the electronic bug decisively stomping on it. He did not look up until he heard the quiet crunch of its destruction.

As his head lifted up from the ground he saw his dad walking towards him and Maria.

Once Jim drew near he greeted them and stated, “… it’s now just a waiting game.”

~ ~ ~


PART TWENTY-SIX

That same day
Langley, Virginia- Warehouse- Recording room

“…calling you for help?”

He listened to the recorded conversation, his interest piqued. Once the conversation came to a close with a definitive crunch, he began to shake his head, muttering out loud, “Nice try kid, but they’d see right through it.” If only the kid had left the mike intact, perhaps whatever plan they had concocted might have worked. He still didn’t understand what they were talking about, but his experience from his line of work made him suspect that that wasn’t a natural conversation between the two. No matter, he thought.

He raised his hand toward the machine, brightening the room with a blinding intensity. The light was accompanied by the whirring sound of rewinding tape that within seconds would play significantly different. Yet the supernatural event went undetected as the only other person around was rendered unconscious just moments before. The cause of all this slowly lowered his hand a satisfied smile upon his face. He took a cursory glance around the room to ensure nothing was out of place. Once done he turned to the unconscious agent, scanning his mind for any further information. He then helped move the agent into an upright position, preparing him to wake up.

The door to the room opened as the next shift’s agent entered. “Anything turn up, Jameson?”

Jameson turned to towards the voice feeling a little out of sorts. “Wha…?”

“You ok?”

“Um… yeah,” he mumbled out, bringing a hand to his head.

“Let me guess, the birds finally got to you?” His colleague joked.

Jameson laughed uneasily, “Guess so.”

“Look, they don’t need you there for at least another half an hour, why don’t you just grab some coffee?”

Jameson checked his watch having lost track of time in there. As he did though, he hardly acknowledged the time, rather overwhelmed by a sense of déjà vu. Didn’t all of this just happen minutes before? He shook his head though, that wasn’t possible. He got up and went to get a strong cup of coffee.

His replacement took his place immediately flipping the switch to listen to the new tape that he assumed Jameson had just placed in. Instantly the room was filled with the high pitched sounds of birds. The sounds seemed to increase, intermittent with silences. A bit of background disturbance was heard, the static drowning out the aggravating birds in short, rapid intervals. It was if the birds were pecking at the mike. The static sound became more persistent then finally it extinguished with one last blast. The replacement, perplexed, picked up the headphones to listen more closely but only silence was heard as the tape continued to play. He rewound a bit, but the static bursts were all that came through. Now a little panicked he played the tape once more, but it came clearer that they just lost another transmitter. He took a deep breath bracing himself to tell his temperamental superior the news.

_ _ _


The Next Night
Valenti House- Kyle’s bedroom

The night before, he had been so exhausted that he actually experienced a dreamless sleep. It had taken hours to calm down Maria and convince her that exhuming the body was a bad idea; she would just have to have faith in the truth of the flashes he saw. He even suggested that he could try to connect with her on the dream plane and show her, but after a silent moment she shook her head and stated she was going to go home. She avoided him the entire day and so he left her alone, choosing not to push her. He knew the most important person to convince of the connection to Max, was Max himself. So settling on his bed, he used his calming techniques to block the haunting memories of his room and the fear of the Special Unit, and prepared himself to dream walk Max. Closing his eyes he drew on his memories, softly praying that Max would let him in.

~ ~ ~

Max sat in the corner looking at nothing. He hadn’t moved from the spot since he was told the news.

They were all dead.

Though the agents could have easily lied to him, manipulating the photos, the videos… but having no connection to the outside, he could only believe them. They were all dead. And it was all his fault.

He couldn’t cry though. He just felt empty; his whole reason to be there was gone. Part of him even thought he didn’t deserve to mourn them. They wouldn’t have died if it hadn’t been for him. So he sat there waiting for his body to shut down, perhaps he could finally leave too.

But once again she saved him from death.

~ ~ ~

Kyle breathed a sigh of relief. The connection had let him in again. He wasted no time though, knowing how quickly the connection could be lost. In a few steps he stood in front of Max, but his friend gave no sign of acknowledgement. Kyle squatted in front of Max trying to get his attention.

“Max buddy, it’s me Kyle.” But Max just stared ahead as if looking right through Kyle. Kyle glanced around him but saw nothing but white. “Max, what are you looking at?” He whispered out in confusion, wondering if something was happening to Max at that moment. He saw nothing on him but the gray scrub pants and restraints.

After a minute of no response, Kyle started to shake Max. He gripped his shoulders firmly and gently shook him. Max just took it, his gaze utterly blank. In disbelief that Max still wasn’t responding he started to slap him on the cheek. “Come on Max, wake up! You have to talk to me!” Still nothing.

Kyle glanced around the barren room again, searching frantically for some clue to Max’s state. As the moments passed the urgency within him to find out something grew. Regarding Max once more, he finally made his decision— he had to do something drastic to shock Max out of his stupor. The answer to how, came easily to him, for he knew that Max could never sit idly by if Liz was hurt; that reason alone was how all of this started.

“All right Max,” Kyle muttered quietly, “you leave me no choice. I’m really sorry about this, but it’s the only way I can think to get you out of here. I hope you can forgive me some day and if not, well I just want to see you back with us.” With that Kyle closed his eyes focusing on his connection with Max. He tried to imagine Liz upon the Crashdown floor, hoping that within Max’s mind the true memory of it would appear. He never expected how horrific the image would be.

The white room changed, shrouded in darkness with only one form visible—Liz. Her body lay still on the ground, bleeding. Her eyes were mercifully closed, but it was clear no breath remained within her. Kyle watched Max, trying not to be affected by the image. At first it seemed Max hadn’t noticed, but then a tear trailed down his cheek. He still stared straight ahead, but then he uttered a few raspy words. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I deserve to be here. I…” He was about to say more but shook his head instead. “No, I have no right to say that.” His last statement was spoken so softly that Kyle had to strain to hear. He didn’t understand what Max was talking about and was afraid he had gone too far. He attempted again to get through to him, but as he reached out to shake Max again, the connection was severed.

~ ~ ~

He had wanted to say he loved her, loved them all. But he had no right, his love destroyed them all. He had no right to ask for peace in death. His place was here. With that resolve he willed his body to move again as he leaned forward to wipe his tear on his knee.

[behrinthecity]

The part is finally here! I cannot apologize enough to you guys about the delayed posting... and I'm also sorry to say that I can't give a specific time to when the next part will be out-- it's going to be a very big section where a lot of questions you guys have been having will be 'discussed'... and I'd like to have it all done before posting so that I can actually post more regularly with them (especially since any real lag between the parts may make them unncessarily confusing!)

But yes... first:

This part is dedicated to my wonderful beta, Michelle in Yonkers, for without her bullying (j/k!)-- her helpful, inspiring suggestions, this part would never have been written.

And of course...

Flamehair- Thanks! And yeah, he just can't let go of his guilt.

Scottie-

Poor Max, he's so nuts.

You have no idea... just wait.

So can Kyle mindwarp too?

Nope, he was just using the mental connection of the dream walk with Max to show an image of Liz and a memory of what the agents just showed Max of Liz being dead appeared from Max.

Who was the guy that changed the tape? Did I miss something?

Nope, he's to remain a mystery for the time being.

MiY- heh heh you know the answer to that a bit better now.

Ellie- sigh... sorry again for not being back here within two days.

magikhands-

They make me want to hurt someone

I hope you don't mean me! But you know attack the agents at will .

your reaction to the mysterious alien changing the tape is exactly what you're supposed to have right now... an upcoming part will reveal more about that one.

You know, Nesado and Cal always had a strange sense of protecting their charges.

They certainly did, didn't they?

Timelord31- I'm sorry to say it won't be in this part.

LTF- ahh there's so much I could comment back on your feedback! But all of that would basically be-- You really nailed what's going on! Especially--

If there's anything that's ever driven Max Evans besides his love, it's his guilt.

Thanks as always for the kind comments, I'm glad my shorter parts can still be effective!

cherie-

I don't know how much longer I can take of Max just shutting down.

I hope you can manage to hold out for just a while longer! I don't want to give anything away, but have a little faith.

J- he's definitely an alien. you'll find out his intentions soon.

What's Liz been up to this whole time??

Funny you should ask that... this part should give you a bit of an idea.

Milla- Thank you for reading my story and welcome! And I remember Majesty's story *sniff* I'm honored that my story could even compare...

rigel- I can definitely promise that a later part will reveal more of the Unit's intentions with Max!

And now... finally on to the new part...


A/N: Any scene depicting what seems to be a memory may not be entirely accurate due to the confused mental state of the character.


Previously…

Max’s back tensed as he answered Liz’s tautly asked question. He glanced down as he fought down the emotions the experience had stirred in him. As he continued to speak he could hardly hold her gaze, soon lost in the disturbing memory. “It was upsetting… Like there was this whole side of me I never even knew about.” [From Four Square]
~ ~

“A trick I learned from Superman. Let’s see if it really works,” he quietly commented as he hoped for his surprise to work. He concentrated on the charcoal within his hand, pounding all his energy on it, to transform it into something special. As the white light dissipated he peeked through his fingers breathing in awe and relief that he had succeeded. Then attempting to clean any residue from the burnt wood he turned to Liz, holding a diamond.
…
“Liz Parker… will you marry me?” [From Graduation]
~ ~

Rudely awoken from the dream walk Michael rolled his eyes and attempted to get up. He was still sore from his accident, but better than before. He stretched gingerly and picked up his coat that he had used to rest against, dusted it and put it on. As he put it on he noticed a slip of paper fall out. He picked it up and noticed the strange writing from the last message. All it said was, “Safety comes in numbers.”
…
Looking around the once again deserted highway, he didn’t understand how it got in his coat. Who was following him and were they friend or foe? All he knew is that he was going to keep his promise to Liz sooner than he thought. He had his destination now.
~ ~

As Isabel slowly stood up to open her window, breathing in the cool morning dew, a small tear rolled down her cheek. She let it fall, lost in a world of grief, guilt and hope.
…
In the pale light, all she could see was her brother, pale surrounded by white tiles.
…
Even now, with visual proof through her connection with Kyle, she was afraid to try. To see the darkness again. To reconfirm that her brother was dead and buried.
~ ~

Jim’s face lined by the weariness of the past few years and particularly the last few months began to show signs of hope as he commented to his son and Maria, “I’ll print it out and start a search on possible bases, hospitals and abandoned facilities where he might be held in that area. Hopefully narrow the search down.”


PART TWENTY-SEVEN

Nine months after graduation
Canada
Liz and Isabel’s House- Isabel’s bedroom

Leaves rustled in the yard, the rushing sound intruding upon the quiet house. But the two occupants remained oblivious to it, their hands linked and their eyes closed. Both seemed deep in concentration, their mouths twisted in small frowns.

Then simultaneously, they gasped—the sound barely audible.

Liz was first to open her eyes from the short dream walk. She had already started to remove her hands when Isabel’s eyes opened.

The two girls stared at each other both mulling over Kyle’s words. I don’t think that’s soon enough.

“Liz—”
“I—”

They had both started to talk, immediately stopping at the other’s word. Finally Isabel went ahead with her question. “Liz, what if you could get another premonition? Maybe they could come sooner or we could try and meet them and join Michael? Or—”

“It doesn’t work that way Isabel; I can’t force a premonition. I know I kept telling you things were safe for us, but god, what if I was wrong?” Her voice almost cracked at the question as her heart began to pound with doubt. Each beat thundered painfully in her chest, drawing her attention to the void within her heart. For months she had tried to ignore the sense of loneliness as each day passed since graduation. Even now she internally fought, unwilling to drown in the soul-numbing emptiness once more. She forged on; focusing on what was real, what she could count on—the lives of Isabel, Michael, Kyle and Maria. And because of all Max had sacrificed for her four years ago; she felt responsible for them. That now without Max and with her new found ability of foresight, she was to be their guide in times of uncertainty. “I mean if we really are to believe that Max is alive, it just proves they’re waiting for us to expose ourselves, so they can finally finish the job. As much as I want to believe, I can’t risk everyone like that.”

As she had spoken Liz had averted her gaze from Isabel’s hopeful one, but at her last statement her eyes steadied upon Isabel’s pleading for her to understand the risk.

Isabel broke their gazes muttering, “You know if it had been the other way around, he would have.”

Liz wasn’t too surprised by the comment, only pausing briefly to recollect her thoughts. Then pointedly she responded, “But then he’d have you and Michael to talk him out of it.”

Isabel turned back to Liz with slight shock, but then her face settled into a doleful expression. Glancing down at the bed cover she tried to apologize and explain herself. “I’m sorry. I … that was out of line, it’s just that… that’s still a month and a half before they can come and we can start doing something. After Michael left, I’ve just felt so useless. How much can we expect Michael to cover by himself?” Her voice had risen as her emotions of helplessness seemed to overwhelm her. Then with a sad sigh she added, “I should have gone with him.”

“You know he didn’t want you to. He needed you to be here.”

“No, he knew I was scared and that I still didn’t completely believe. That’s why he went alone.” Isabel turned her head to gaze out the window as if to search for any trace of Michael.

Liz watched her for a moment before quietly broaching a question, “Do you believe now?” Silently she asked herself the same question, but the tightening in her chest allowed only her pain and grief to answer, no.

Slowly Isabel turned her head to face Liz, but her eyes constantly glanced away from Liz; her fear and confusion far too strong. “I’m afraid to… if he’s been alive… all this time, that would mean…” Her breath hitched briefly, but she continued, “But none of it adds up, for either side. I mean if it’s a lie… how could Kyle see any of that if it wasn’t true? It would have to mean someone planted those images… god those images… it’s worse than when Pierce had him.”

Isabel stopped, unable to move past the horrifying images Kyle had shown her, in previous dream walks, to convince her of the truth. Her throat constricted as the images flashed in her mind, preventing her from speaking. Shaking her head slightly in an attempt to physically push them away, she managed to continue, “If somebody was mind-warping Kyle, it’d explain why he keeps insisting upon it. But then who would have any reason to plant something like that in his mind and of all people to choose, why Kyle?” Swallowing painfully, she then forged on with the tiny hope that wavered in the depths of her soul, “But then I think… if it’s true… then why...why—” She broke at the question, unable to voice the heartbreaking experience of seeing only darkness every time, of feeling nothing, not even a trace of the connection she once shared with her brother.

Her throat suddenly feeling heavy as she watched Isabel break down, Liz reached out and held her ‘sister’. “Shh…” she soothed as she comfortingly stroked Isabel’s back. But inside Liz felt her heart break too, her own mind answering Isabel’s pained question, I ask myself that every day.

~ ~ ~

It had taken an hour for Isabel to rein in her emotions once more. Then after several minutes of insistence, Liz reluctantly left for her own bedroom.

Isabel watched her leave, only turning away when she had disappeared from sight.

She leaned against her headboard, staring at nothing in particular her head tilted towards the window. She watched the night’s breeze gently flow between the branches, disturbing the leaves from their rest. But the soft rustle of the moving air did not register, her thoughts held by the echo of their friend’s weary words.

Can you try tonight? I’m pretty wiped from practice.

Her eyes still fixed beyond her window she blindly reached out towards her bedside table. Her fingers met with a small book and clinging to its spine she placed it on her lap. With great effort she moved her head to gaze down at it, her fingers fidgeting at the cover.

He’s there. There’s no question about it. He needs our help.

The pages were now exposed, lightly hitting against each other, but it was what rested between them that held her attention.

The photo was creased, but there was no mistaking the image. There with a rare smile and his shoulders for once relieved of tension, stood her brother spinning a basketball.

Her finger trailed just around his form, afraid to plunge into darkness once more.

I just hope it’s not too late.

Then with a sigh, she leaned her head back against the headboard, closed her eyes and slowly let her finger drift towards his smiling face.

~ ~ ~
Langley, Virginia
Warehouse- Sub-basement Level- Containment Room

Relief was a rarity where he resided.

Relief was a dream.

However there were moments when the dream seemed to meld with reality.

Moments when the cold, unyielding shackles would be removed. Moments where he would be allowed access to those things that he had once taken for granted—food, water, a bathroom, a shower…Moments where he could almost feel human…almost.

They would not last long, but for those precious seconds, he felt he could breathe.

He breathed in deeply now, as the steady stream of cold water rinsed him of his raw, hot pain. He was grateful that he had been allowed to take the shower without assistance, without flinching. Though his arms were tired from lack of movement he willed them to move quickly expecting the privilege of this moment to be stripped away any moment.

After soaping his hair he plunged his head into the water, shutting his eyes tightly.

What’s taking so long?

He turned his head at the question, hearing the pout within its tone. He smiled at her longing gaze as she leaned in the doorway.

“The charcoal is being a bit more stubborn than I thought it’d be.”

“Why not just…” she trailed off as she waved one hand over the other.

“Because I’d still smell its remains.” He wrinkled his nose as he spoke, eliciting a giggle from her. However, his expression was of confusion rather than from any acrid scent on his hands. As the water continued to run over his hands he thought he could almost hear a sizzling sound, but her amused reply distracted him from the unsettling noise.

“All right.” As she moved away she called out lightly, “I’ll be waiting.”

We’re waiting, Mr. Evans.

He froze at the phantom voice, every muscle in his body tense. Then the faint scent of burned flesh took over his senses and he continued to scrub harder.

A couple of loud knocks came then, soon followed by the shifting sound of a lock opening. And with the sudden intrusion, his eyes flew open.

He had no time to readjust to his surroundings, unable to understand what had happened. The men hidden behind faceless masks and white gloves gripped his arms tightly as they pulled him from the shower stall. They roughly dried him with a towel and clothed him as he turned his head in directions searching for her presence with hope, while also searching for the machine with dread.

What are you looking at?

“Hmm…” he intoned lazily as he shifted his gaze towards her. His eyes went back to their adoring watch of her perfect features, her soft brown hair, he sighed happily, forgetting her question.

“Max…” she spoke quietly with embarrassment as a blush stole across her cheeks.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” she answered immediately, leaving no room to doubt the truth in her words.

He pulled her closer and assured that she was safely in his arms, he turned his head towards the sky. However instead of the scattered display of stars, he was met with a blinding light.

Shadowed figures hovered over him, a hand reaching out to him every so often. He watched through a haze of white, his eyes blinking slowly. He felt something enter his mouth, the tip scratching the corner of his lip slightly. Before he could react, liquid entered his throat the now unfamiliar sensation causing it to burn. As he began to cough, protesting the invading liquid, he heard a light clinking sound.

A toast.

“To us,” he completed his fiancée’s wish. The glasses clinked once more and slowly they drank the cherry cola she had brought up for them.

After a few moments of contented silence between the couple, he drew her attention by trailing his fingers upon her hand. “So… what do you want to do now?”

She turned to him, lowering her glass to the nearby table. Her lips had turned up into a seductive smile as her eyes shone with a secretive delight.

However as she drew closer to him her features began to waver, their outlines softening…blurring. Reaching out with worry he whispered, “Liz?”

But then her face disappeared.

“Liz? Liz!” he shouted with growing panic as the calm setting around him spiraled away into a black abyss.

The darkness began to close in and he gasped, struggling for breath. He hadn’t realized he had been physically struggling until he awoke to the sharp prick of yet another injection. He refused to open his eyes fully, the tiny crack of light seeping in already too bright a reminder.

He heard them whisper over him and though he wished to tune them out, his ears perked at the sound of another person’s voice— any voice. “It’s calming down.”

“Should we continue?”

After a long pause a voice filled with resignation answered, “Yes.”

Yes.

The bright light had dimmed into a soft setting of a candlelit night. Only a string of Christmas lights and the stars above rivaled the shine from the gentle flames that surrounded him.

He observed the change curiously, his trepidation beginning to fade; his heart beat slowing to a steady rhythm.

Yes. Instead of the voices of his faceless captors, he heard the voice of his beloved and his heart leapt at the sound.

Yes. The word continued to echo all around…the word that his battered soul had waited to hear.

The passionate sounds faded in and out along with the wavering mirage of lit candles, brick walls and soft pillows.

He reveled in the sweet connection of their lips until he heard her gasp. The sharp breath shattering the moment.

But then the smile returned and silently they agreed once again, after graduation. Though the emotions felt strong, her form, her voice appeared ephemeral, as if none of this was real.

He saw the dark wisps of her hair, but they too faded into the golden fog cast by the candles. The colorful patterned blanket came into view suddenly, just to be replaced by the sight of her hand tugging at his.

Darkness settled in then, the candles flickering out one by one.

But the dark too was fleeting, the dawning light arriving in moments. He tried to avoid the light, turning towards her face.

But her features remained indistinct, the curves of her cheeks blurry outlines. He stroked the vague contours of her face hoping to confirm that she was truly there. The skin he touched strengthened in definition, only to return to its faded state as his finger continued down the soft path.

Her husky voice came clearly through then, the sleepiness in it evident. Don’t leave me.

Never, he heard himself promise as he pulled her close, while still struggling to avoid the invading brightness. But the light began to overtake the room, phantom figures moving within it.

Again he turned towards her, cupping her cheek, ready to kiss her once more. But a stickiness slowly spreading down his hand stopped him. With trepidation he lifted his hand still in its cupped position, revealing a fresh smear of blood.

Immediately he glanced down seeing that she no longer appeared dream-like. Her form was distinct; brown hair fanning around her pale face, eyes closed and blood trailing from her partially opened mouth.

Desperately he brought his hand to her face again willing it to glow, but the entering white light prevented him, blinding him with its intensity.

He wasn’t ready to go back yet… to deal with the harshness of his barren reality. He clung to her still form hoping to anchor himself within his dream, to allow himself a few more moments to live. But she soon faded away into darkness.

He tried to call out to her, but all he could focus on was the darkness closing in around him. He wanted to struggle, to physically push it away, but somehow he couldn’t… his body, his thoughts frozen.

Then in the distance he saw something flash.

The occurrence was so brief that he could not process what had happened, but then it appeared again… and this time it stayed.

It was a light, building upon itself, its glow intensifying with every moment passed.

Blue began to reach out towards him, ridding him of the darkness but not his fear.

Caught between two hells of blinding light, he remained captive within his mind. He was unable to speak, to move, to awake from this nightmare.

And then a low voice spoke, filled with a lust for power, for vengeance.

Kill them.

“No!” he managed to cry out into the dark blue haze, averting his gaze from the still building light.

Destroy them. Live once more.

“I can’t. I won’t,” he continued to protest, attempting to shun the monster that strengthened every day.

Unleash the power you once wielded— the power you still hold.

“I’m not like that. I’m not like you!” he screamed back, his desperation and fear evident.

The voice remained silent after his outburst and he began to breathe a sigh of relief, but before he could release it fully, white flooded his senses. The hands were back, firmly holding his arms as they methodically released him from the cold table. They pushed from underneath his limp body and he soon slipped down, his knees connecting with the equally cold floor.

Dragging him up they steadied him and hardly decreasing the intensity of their grips they walked him around the small perimeter of his room. His head, heavy with exhaustion, pain and fear, bobbed against his chest as each step was forced forward.

Unable to see the dark dream world anymore, his eyes focused on the grey edges of the white tile all around him. As he stared blankly forward he attempted to search for the traces of candlelight and love, but only whiteness glared back. Not even the frightening glow of blue formed before him.

Hardly aware of his slow, unsteady movements he closed his eyes in concentration to ensure the hell within his mind remained locked away, along with any other reminder of a life beyond this room. Once again in control he finally released that sigh of relief. The pain hurt less with no reminder to haunt him of what he once had. The white would hardly register anymore when he had no other color to compare it to. Yet, despite that, his relief was fleeting, his scarred mind unable to hold on to any comforting thought beyond mere seconds. For reality would return with a sudden force, sucking the air from his tired lungs. Again he would register the metal tight against his body and the bright light above, accosting his eyes. Feebly struggling against the whiteness, his eyes would close as they had many times before, searching for that rare miracle of relief.

~ ~ ~
Liz and Isabel’s House- Isabel’s bedroom

Isabel leaned against her headboard staring at the calendar hanging on the opposite wall. Today’s date flapped in the gentle breeze entering through the window’s crack. The large five written upon the sheet would go in and out of sight as the corner curled up from the playful stream of air. Captivated by the action and unwilling to think of anything else she continued to sit still, her eyes refusing to avert their gaze. Moments from the past would flit into her mind, appearing faintly upon the moonlit page— a familiar smirk, a comforting hug, a playful shove, a passing of a basketball. Then as the moon left the company of soft clouds the page brightened to its usual color of white. But the sudden loss of the shadow only incited a horrifying image to flash before her, forcing her held back tears to fall. As they quickly retraced the often tread path of her cheek, she lifted a hand towards the lightly leaping page.

In a soft glow the page crumbled into ashes that gently floated towards the trashcan waiting below.

Though the page had been removed to reveal the start of the new day, that would occur within minutes, the previous date’s number remained imprinted in her mind. She did not see the 16th, but rather the 15th. Finally shifting her position she wiped her face and stood to draw the curtain—an attempt to guard against the cold that compounded her grief and shield her from a world of loneliness; a world without her brother. The breeze now tempered by the barrier of cloth, gave no noise of protest, content to stop short of the room. Hardly aware of the outside anymore she moved back under the covers, lying upon her side.

She focused her gaze upon the calming candle of vanilla and lavender by her bed. Slowly her hand crept from beneath the sheets and after a moment’s hesitation hovered briefly over the candle. A flame sprang to life, flickering and radiating a small radius of warmth in the cool room. She observed the dance like movements of the tiny light before closing her eyes to make her wish. As her hazel eyes gazed once more on the scented candle, she sighed. For many nights darkness had been her only company whether her eyes were open or not. If only her dream world could find any sign of the light her heart wearily searched for, she thought.

Sighing once more she turned away from the tiny beacon, unwilling to blow it out. As she settled against the pillow she stared at the trembling shadows cast by the burning candle. She suppressed a gasp as she fought the tears that still waited to fall. Following with a deep breath, she finally gave in to her exhaustion.

Her eyes shut heavily as she whispered the mournful thought that had held within her mind all day—Happy Birthday Max.

[behrinthecity]

I'm here, I'm here! Sorry-- the end of this week had been pretty mentally taxing for me, so I'm looking forward to completely destress this weekend and maybe catch up on my own fanfic reading! But ... I won't leave you guys hanging any longer-- again I feel horrible about making you all wait this long, I really do hope you find it worth that wait-- I know I've gone over this way too many times that I need to make myself stop otherwise I'll never quit changing something or the other!

SOOO... without any further delay or incident...

Enjoy.

*Format Note: Due to the sheer length of this part and wanting to ensure it's not lost among-- italics were used along with the ***** text ***** to denote a flashback. [And also just in case I broke this part into two posts.]


Previously...

Max glanced down at the orbs, his muscles tensing at the memory of almost dying— all to find out the hidden secret of the alien artifacts. After a day of helplessness, of being surrounded by those who knew more about him and his origins than he himself did, he had to know why. Why had he suffered for withholding information on these orbs? What was so important about them? He turned to the others, his feet already moving closer to them. “I want to know. Maybe if we just focus like Nasedo’s always said.”

The four of them held on to the orbs within their respective pairs, their eyes closed. None were aware of the blinding glow that formed around the orbs, nor the pulse of energy that shot out towards the sky.

As events unfolded within the chamber, all around the world communicators echoed an unmistakable beat. Their owners reached towards their activated beacons with one thought confirmed, the Royals lived on. [From Destiny]
~ ~

“How much do you love me?” Isabel asked earnestly, her smile wide across her flawless face, her eyes dancing with anticipation.

Then suddenly her lips were all Kyle could see as he felt himself lean closer to her, drawn by an unknown force. It seemed so long since he last felt this way and so he allowed his body to lead him, his own lips soon connecting with hers. He sensed her head tilt up towards him and her soft hand caress his neck.

But then his mind became aware of her shifting beside him. He refocused on her expectant gaze as she still awaited his answer. “Oh, oh, oh.” He started as he desperately tried to calm his beating heart and raging hormones. The daydream shocked him, his mind reeling at the thought of harboring feelings for yet another alien. The thought quickly passed, replaced by the surprise of not realizing how his feelings had grown over the few years knowing Isabel. But as her excited, gorgeous face smiled at him, he understood why. But then another realization soon sunk in, that once again he wasn’t first choice; once again his love went unrequited. [From A Tale of Two Parties]
~ ~

The young agent saw a general walking in his direction. He stood in place hoping the general would do the usual curt nod and continue on his way, but instead the general addressed him. “Still alive?”

He gaped in shock at the blunt question, unsure if he should answer.

“I saw what you did, I admire it. Nice to know there are still some decent men in your unit,” the general commented.

Not sure why he felt compelled to be honest with this general the agent corrected him, “It’s not my unit anymore.”

“Oh? Well then perhaps you’d like to help me. Here.” He handed him a card discreetly which after a slight hesitation he took. “If you believe in true justice, give me a call.”
~ ~

He raised his hand toward the machine, brightening the room with a blinding intensity. The light was accompanied by the whirring sound of rewinding tape that within seconds would play significantly different. Yet the supernatural event went undetected as the only other person around was rendered unconscious just moments before. The cause of all this slowly lowered his hand a satisfied smile upon his face.
~ ~

Jim’s face lined by the weariness of the past few years and particularly the last few months began to show signs of hope as he commented to his son and Maria, “I’ll print it out and start a search on possible bases, hospitals and abandoned facilities where he might be held in that area. Hopefully narrow the search down.”
~ ~

Isabel went ahead with her question. “Liz, what if you could get another premonition? Maybe they could come sooner or we could try and meet them and join Michael?”
…
Continuing, Isabel explained, “…it’s just that… that’s still a month and a half before they can come and we can start doing something. After Michael left, I’ve just felt so useless. How much can we expect Michael to cover by himself?” Her voice had risen as her emotions of helplessness seemed to overwhelm her. Then with a sad sigh she added, “I should have gone with him.”


PART TWENTY-EIGHT

Eleven months after graduation
Canada- Train Station

Maria stretched out as she stepped onto the platform. Behind her Kyle struggled with their luggage as one of Maria’s slipped from its precarious balance at the top. Somehow he managed to reach around and catch it. He breathed out a loud sigh of relief causing Maria to turn to look at him. “Oh thanks Kyle.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to keep his annoyance in check. At least they were finally here. Just an hour drive and they’ll see the others soon. “You’re welcome.” He grumbled out, following it with “Diva.”

“What did you say?” Maria regarded him suspiciously, but Kyle just looked back innocently.

Fortunately for Kyle a man approached them, taking Maria’s attention off of him. The man was Asian, most likely Chinese. He was tall and dressed in office casual attire. “Hey,” he paused for a moment glancing once again at a photo in his hand. “Are you Ms. Salt?”

Maria just stared at the man trying to figure out if he was for real. Then she realized the connection. “Oh!” With a giggle and a roll of her eyes she nodded. “Yep, in the flesh.” She stuck out her hand and with a relaxed smile the man shook her hand.

“I’m Paul. I have a message from… Gidget.” He smirked at that and lifted an eyebrow. That Stephanie sure had a weird sense of humor.

Maria just continued to laugh lightly, while Kyle stood, supporting the precariously balanced luggage, in confusion. “Uh… hello?”

Paul titled his head to look around Maria, spying Stephanie’s other friend. “Sorry about that. I’m going to guess you’re… Harvey.” He deadpanned the name, remembering there was no way these names were anything but very strange nicknames.

Finally Kyle understood why Maria was at such ease with the stranger. Lifting his chin up and studying the man, he greeted him, “Yeah. Nice to meet you Paul.”

“Likewise.” He motioned towards the front of the train station. “Anyway Gidget said I was to give you the grand tour of our town. So follow me.” Taking Maria’s tote bag he started off towards the parking lot. Maria smiling in gratitude quickly fell into step with Paul and started asking him questions. Kyle though was left still standing by the platform with the huge pile of suitcases—all of which were Maria’s, save for the one duffle bag being crushed underneath them all.

~ ~ ~
An Hour Later

Kyle watched from the living room window as Paul drove off. He muttered darkly, “Good riddance.” Liz however heard him.

“Kyle,” she softly exclaimed at his comment.

Turning to her sheepishly, he shrugged his shoulders and replied, “What? If he hadn’t left I would have been forced to try out my powers to get him to stop.”

Liz rolled her eyes, her arms crossing over her chest. “Kyle you can’t just go around freezing people.”

“Then what’s the use?” he immediately retorted; his anger and frustration with Paul still strong.

“Kyle… he’s harmless. You should know better,” Liz admonished.

Kyle just grunted in reply. Liz shook her head thinking, *boys*, as the nonverbal turn in the conversation reminded her of her last conversation with Michael.

***** “Are you sure about this?” Liz turned back to Michael to ask, after seeing Isabel run to her room.

“Look we’ve been through this. I know how you two feel about what Kyle’s saying, but I need to believe him, Liz. I need to know that there’s still a chance and that I can do something about it.”

Liz bent her head for a moment finding it hard to breathe. She struggled for a silent moment as she resisted the urge to flee and finally lifted her head to meet Michael’s gaze. “I know you do. And I know there’s nothing I can say to change your mind. So just be careful, okay?” She spoke each word measuredly, attempting to calm her own soul as she did.

The sound of his familiar grunt filled her ears and she cocked her head to the side unable to stop the small smile appearing on her face. She saw him turn towards the door, his hand already on the knob. She started to reach out to him only halting her progress inches from his arm. Some things were better left unknown, allowing one the chance to hope.

As the evening shadows seeped into the house he gazed at her, his grey eyes becoming a chilling shade, “I’ll find something. And when I do, I’ll come back.”

Before Liz could reply he walked out, shutting out the sight of his departure. Liz remained frozen by the door, unable to move to a window to watch him go. Only the growl of the motorcycle’s engine signaled to her that he was gone. *****

“It doesn’t matter. It probably wouldn’t have worked for me anyway.” Kyle’s dejected voice brought her back to the present.

Shaking her head slightly to clear her head she stammered out in confusion, “What? I thought you were getting control of your powers.”

Kyle sighed still staring out the window. “I thought so. I mean I’ve gotten pretty good with dream walking… at least with you guys.” Kyle glanced at Liz for a moment knowing he had to tread carefully when it came to talking about Max. “But this whole freezing time concept… it just…,” Kyle’s voice rose with his frustration. Lost in his emotions, the sudden charge in the air, and the accompanying crackling went unnoticed by him.

Liz attempted to call his attention to the change, moving forward to tug at his arm, but she too was ignored. Her eyes continued to widen as she saw his hand begin to glow. However, she was unable to speak one word as Kyle bit out, “I can’t get it to work when I want it to!” Liz hardly heard the angry words though as she jumped away, taken aback by the painful shock in her hand and the sight of a bolt of green lightening hurtling towards the floor.

As he tried to calm down taking deep breaths he heard only silence in the room. Releasing one more breath he turned to where Liz was standing. Fortunately she wasn’t frozen but she was gaping at the floor where Kyle stood.

Slowly he moved his head to where her gaze was held and sharply inhaled at the sight.

Had he taken a step forward, he would have fallen through the hole burned into the floor. His eyes instantly mirrored Liz’s wide ones as all previous thoughts left him.

“Have you ever done that before?” Liz somehow found her voice to ask.

She sounded far away to him through all the blood rushing to his head. “Um… no,” he answered blankly.

Liz took a few tentative steps forward, halting just at the hole’s edge. She knelt down, her instinctual scientific curiosity urging her to inspect it. The wood had charred along the sides, but any that had existed in the newly-made chasm seemed to have melted into darkness. She was about to reach out into the dark abyss beneath the floor, but Kyle’s voice pulled her back, “Do you think you could fix it?”

She stayed paralyzed for a moment wondering if she could. Even after surviving the initial craziness of gaining powers, she suffered bouts of fear and insecurity of them. But Isabel had been ever patient with her, teaching her the various uses of molecular manipulation. Fixing the floor was one of them and at that thought she curtly nodded and holding her breath held her hand above the hole. The wood seemed to melt towards the center, as if rebuilding from what remained and within moments the floor returned to its previous state.

As the soft green light faded into Liz’s hand, Kyle breathed out in awe. “You’re getting pretty good, Parker,” he commented.

Liz let out a giggle and smiled in satisfaction that she had done it. Rubbing her hands on her thighs, she stood up, pushing off the floor.

“So… was that a first?” Liz asked, darting a glance at the floor as if to check the hole wasn’t still there.

“You could say that.” Kyle’s voice was quiet as emotions of fear, frustration, awe and weariness warred internally.

“Anything else show up unexpectedly?” Liz’s voice was hushed now as she watched Kyle in concern, wondering if painful green lightening had finally made an appearance in him.

“Just the usual. Freezing people at random moments,” he replied dejectedly.

“You’ve frozen more than one person at a time now?” Liz’s eyes widened at the prospect.

Kyle’s eyebrows rose for a moment, lowering as he sighed. “I didn’t mean for it to happen… but it was towards the end of the game, we were starting to tire out and the other team was leading and all I could think was we had to win. I mean we just had time for one more play. They threw me the ball and I was running and I thought I was going to actually make it, but as what often happens I was about to get tackled and I couldn’t maneuver around the guy in time. I’ve been feeling more tired easily than I used to, so for a moment as I pushed myself to keep going I wished I had just an extra minute to keep running, even dragging that guy with me.” Kyle paused in his confession as he relived the moment.

“Kyle?” Liz asked uncertainly.

“I didn’t realize it at first. As I ran I could just hear the pounding rush of blood in my ears, the cheers and shouts from the crowd seemed so distant. Then just as I was about to reach the line for a touch down, I noticed how silent it had become.” Finally Kyle looked at Liz, waiting for her reaction.

“Are you saying—” Liz started to ask.

“The entire stadium Liz. Every single person there was frozen. The guy that had tried to tackle me? He looked like he’d fall over any moment.”

“So… what did you do?”

“I panicked. I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to unfreeze that many people and then I started to wonder what kind of win I was making if it was only because I was able to freeze the opposing team. So I considered moving back to where I was and hope the spell would break, but then I heard this crackling which was soon replaced by this dull roar surrounding me. It startled me so much I slipped, I fell sideways and the hand I was holding the ball with went over the line. Next thing I know my teammates are lifting me up on their shoulders and handing me the ball—the game ball.”

“Kyle… did anybody see?” Liz could hardly process all that Kyle had said to her and so she focused on the most urgent fact.

“Apparently not. I mean the Feds haven’t come to pick me up have they?” The look on Liz’s face made Kyle regret his words instantly. “Sorry. Talking about it still gets me uneasy. I couldn’t even tell Maria what happened, she was so excited for me and going on about how things like this happen when you’re not stuck in the abyss. At least that made it clear to me that no one in the stadium knew what happened, not my teammates, not the other team—”

“But Kyle, what about the video cameras?”

“That’s the weirdest thing Liz. I think I shorted out all the electrical systems, the scoreboard had shut down, the commentators’ mikes were going haywire with static and any footage shot of the game ended right before I froze them all. I’m sure of it.”

Liz just gaped at Kyle, for once unable to think.

Kyle walked across the fixed floor to Liz placing his hands on her arms. “I’m sorry that it happened. I couldn’t help it. And since nothing really bad happened, I didn’t tell you guys about it. I didn’t want you or Iz to panic. It’s nothing to panic over.”

That’s when Isabel and Maria came into the room, finally done with the house tour and placing all of Maria’s things away. “You guys hungry?” Isabel asked with her usual brilliant smile.

Kyle instantly broke away from Liz, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he replied, “Yeah.”

As soon as Kyle’s hands moved away, Liz rubbed one of her arms slowly trying to gather her thoughts. Plastering a smile on her face she turned to Isabel and nodded in reply; waiting a mere moment before she uneasily cast a sidelong glance at Kyle.

~ ~ ~
Forty-five minutes later
Canada
Liz and Isabel’s house- Living Room

Things had taken a somewhat casual atmosphere as the reunited four lounged upon couches eating take-out Chinese. However, Liz’s back remained tense unable to enjoy the softness of the cushion behind her, her thoughts still drifting to Kyle’s ever growing power. He had been the only one among them with powers that had intentionally tried to improve and explore the extent of his powers by his persistent tries at his base power of dream walking. Before he and Maria had arrived she had devised theories to explain what had occurred over the months but this latest development made her wonder… and absolutely frightened her to what she could be capable of with her powers of blasting or receiving premonitions from touching someone.

“So yeah, our last concert was really successful; it was the school’s biggest draw ever. I’m hoping that maybe next year we might manage to get some studio representatives to check out all the talent too.”

“That’s wonderful. So you still think you might want to try again at that career?” Isabel continued the conversation, when she noticed Kyle and Liz remaining engrossed in their food.

“I’m still a little bitter about the process, right now I’m more focused on getting my friends some attention. But, if I manage to find a label that lets me be me… well I think I’d still love to.” Maria answered pretty honestly. She sighed at the dream of headlining her own concert, but as she refocused back to the living room she could no longer ignore the silence from her other two friends.

“So Kyle, want to share any grid-iron stories?” Maria hoped that if Kyle started talking about his many victories it’d liven the mood.

But instead Kyle slammed his box of food down, his face reddening with anger. “Look. It was no big deal! I didn’t do it intentionally, no one was hurt, no one knows! And besides that’s not even the important thing to focus on right now!”

Liz immediately stood up shouting back at Kyle, “How can you dismiss it so easily? How do you know there’s no one just waiting for an opportunity to turn you in?”

Isabel and Maria gaped at their two friends absolutely confused and their concern growing exponentially.

“I’m here, aren’t I? If you really don’t believe I’m safe then fine,” he held out a hand towards Liz, “See my future. Tell me how horrible it is. Tell me that I might end up where Max is. Maybe then if I’m there I can work on getting him out!”

Liz just gazed back as if she had been slapped in the face. Then without a word she stalked off to her room.

~ ~ ~
Langley, Virginia
Warehouse Grounds- North-west Perimeter

A gentle buzz reached his ears bringing an expression of relief to his face. Digging into his pocket he pulled out the vibrating phone, saying nothing as he accepted the call.

We’re here.

The words he had been waiting anxiously to hear finally were spoken and quickly he answered, “You know the rendezvous point?”

We remember.

Casting side-long glances for any approaching agents, he then continued his clandestine phone call, “The meeting commences in three hours.”

We’ll be there.

“The supplies are already there. Help yourself to some food while you give them a try.”

Will the general be there?

“Not yet. There’s still much to do before you can meet him.”

We’ll be waiting.

The call was disconnected then, the small click echoing into his ear. Slowly he lowered the phone, placing it back into his pocket.

Things were finally shifting into place. The past months had been difficult despite his extraordinary advantages. At times he marveled at his ability to get in as far as he had. The security had advanced over the decades and even in the past few years. The government was no longer taking any chance of an infiltration. Fortunately there were still tiny cracks in the system that they never thought to consider.

A smirk briefly appeared on his face as he marveled at the humans’ ability to trust, even when their job was exactly the opposite. But then perhaps it was more due to their lack of questioning anything they saw or were told. At that thought he flashed on the memory of seeing the Unit’s prisoner shivering in his tiny cell. Even now the sight of his fallen… king affected him, a tense frown weighing heavily on his smooth features.

He stared out into the dark night, his mind lost in the memory and under his conflicting emotions. He hated putting himself at such risk, but then after all he had seen he had to help—he just wished things could move faster. But he knew that to succeed he needed reinforcements. After months of searching and waiting, they were here and soon they would be ready.

The memory continued to play out in his mind, the image of his king shuddering before curling into an even tighter ball. If only he had arrived sooner at the army’s base, perhaps he could have stopped it all then. But his powers could only do so much. Even now, there were areas that he could not access on his own, particularly where that general would leave for after his meetings with the Special Unit head. He had given up for the moment on discovering the inside of that base, hoping that when his plan was implemented, he’d finally be able to infiltrate it. Instead he focused his attention on the Unit. Just a little longer and everything would be in place.

He released a sigh as he remembered how he ended up outside the warehouse. He had been observing his king in the observation room, when the door opened and instantly his expressionless mask was in place again. “Agent, take over the North-west perimeter.”

With hardly a glance at the man he wished to incinerate on the spot, he had nodded and replied, “Yes, sir.” Then in quick strides he left the room, his eyes briefly turning back to the containment room. In that glance he saw the sight that haunted him now, a pale ball trembling in a corner. As he paced the North-west area of the warehouse grounds, the thought that had repeated in his head as he had left the observation room, resounded once more. Just a little longer.

~ ~ ~
Canada
Liz and Isabel’s house- Liz’s bedroom

Moments later, Maria knocked on Liz’s slightly ajar door. Liz startled out of her thoughts, jerked her head towards the door, her eyes wide.

Maria saw the luminous glint of candlelight reflected in Liz’s eyes. Lines of gold flickered among the myriad emotions that gazed back at her, momentarily robbing Maria of her thoughts.

Liz brought a hand up, using a fist to swipe away the tears that clung to her lashes. “I’m fine. It’s just…” she tried to explain what she was feeling, but was at a loss for words.

“It’s hard.” Maria finished for her as she moved towards the bed.

Within moments the two best friends were leaning against one another, Liz’s head on Maria’s shoulder and Maria’s head on Liz’s. “How are you really, babe?”

Liz sighed in response, “I really don’t know anymore. I think I haven’t known in the longest time.”

It had been the most honest confession of her feelings in months. Since she and Isabel had fled Roswell, she had tried to push down her feelings over what happened, afraid she’d completely lose it if she didn’t. With Isabel’s earlier pushing she had broken down one time, but it only proved to slowly kill her, each memory of Max another wound inflicted upon her shattered soul. And so she suppressed her grief, focusing on building her new life.

But since Kyle told her about his dreams… those feelings began to surface, building upward until it once more possessed her every thought. The turmoil wreaked havoc upon her heart once more, suffocating her. Before Maria had found her she had sat, silently drowning in her emotions. Even now, her soul seemed to be adrift in the overwhelming sea of pain, unable to fully take comfort in the familiar warmth of her best friend’s presence.

After a long stretch of silence, Liz asked, “How about you? What do you think of all this?”

Maria released a long breath before answering. “I try not to think about it. I’ve been trying for six months now. Those first three months, were so hard Liz. I just felt so alone and I didn’t want to believe he was gone. Because if he was gone, then I knew I had lost you too. And I don’t know… having Max around just gave me this sense of security; that no matter what crap, because of knowing them, came, he’d be able to handle it.”

Maria tilted her head so she could see Liz’s face after her admission. Seeing the glazed look of pain there she immediately added, “Sorry. I mean to me what I went through was bad, but it can’t even compare…”

“We all have our own crosses to bear,” Liz whispered, her eyes staring out at nothingness, as if they searched the depths of her own soul.

Not knowing how to reply to that and feeling the light stinging behind her eyes, Maria tried to change the subject. Then suddenly she remembered, “Oh… I have something for you.” She shifted away from Liz to rummage in her jacket pocket, her hand quickly finding the precious item. With a small smile she gently handed the small pouch to Liz.

Still under the burden of her emotions, Liz eyed the tiny bag warily. “What is it?”

“Can’t you guess? When was the last time I didn’t follow through with a promise I made you? Actually you know what, don’t answer that… just take it.”

Liz’s eyes widened with surprise—“Wait you mean—you remembered?”

Maria responded quietly, her voice tinged with amusement, “Hey, it’s me.”

Liz’s lips quirked upward at that line, the memory of letting Maria in on the life-altering secret coming to mind. The two friends softly giggled together, the tension in their shoulders beginning to ebb. Then with a genuine smile, Maria opened the small pouch revealing one of the most precious gifts Liz had ever been given. She gingerly pulled it out, resting it in the palm of her hand then reaching out towards Liz. A glittering diamond surrounded by gold, that even now retained the same luster from when it was originally made, silently called out to be taken, to be accepted.

Liz reached for it, but just as she hovered above, her fingers dancing nervously in the air, she hesitated.

“What’s wrong?” Maria asked.

“I…” Liz brought her gaze to meet Maria’s before darting back towards Maria’s expectant hand.

“You don’t think you might get…” Maria trailed off, lost in thoughts of the possibility of Liz receiving a premonition from the ring and the implications of that.

“I- I don’t know,” Liz’s voice, thick with fear, wavered. She wasn’t sure what she hoped would happen, because the outcomes of either still left her heartbroken.

But just as Max had been on the night of his proposal, the ring eagerly awaited her answer, her touch. And so, with her breath held, her fingers reached for the precious symbol of her only love.

The moment her fingertips met the smooth surface, her senses were taken over by a surge of warmth, an electrifying current tearing through her nerves. Her eyes no longer saw her bedroom, rather she saw herself kneeling on the ground in Max’s embrace. Neither would let go, never wanting to be apart again. You’re real. She heard her own voice repeat the words Max had spoken during his proposal, as she had often since that night.

Yes. She heard her reply over and over as the image began to fade back into her bedroom. The tones of love, happiness and disbelief continued to echo in her mind as she realized her hand now clutched the ring.

“Liz?” Maria asked in a hushed voice.

Blinking a few times, Liz finally turned to Maria, her mind racing to process what she had seen.

“Did you see anything?”

Liz knew Maria meant a premonition. And as she easily matched the words, the emotions, the image back to that amazing night—to the last night she felt complete—she shook her head sadly. As she spoke, she wasn’t even aware of how much she mimicked Max’s goodbye to his son—to a hope, to a loved one. “Just a memory.”

[behrinthecity]

~ ~ ~
Liz and Isabel’s house- Living Room

As soon as Maria quietly followed Liz, Isabel finally broke out of her shock, refocusing on Kyle. He paced in front of the window, his hand continuously running through his hair. His movements were filled with frustration, each step he took and each sweep of his hand erratic.

Her eyes remained wide with confusion as she watched him. She followed his path, each step of his causing her stomach to clench with mounting tension. Finally, unable to stay silent she called out to him, her hesitant voice filled with worry.

However, with his thoughts and actions still driven with frustration, he hardly heard her. As he turned to leave the room, he muttered, “I need some air.”

Isabel stood up her hand lightly touching his chest. “Kyle, wait.”

Her voice was so soft… gentle, almost intimate. He halted staring into her eyes, easily lost in their warm depths. For a brief moment his mind flitted on the thought that her title in high school was far from the truth, nothing about her, the real side of her, was ice. As she moved her hand away still talking, he regretted the loss of its touch.

“Please, talk to me. What happened?”

He remained silent, lost in thoughts and feelings he had suppressed for over a year. Her eyes pleaded for him to say anything and finally he saw the resignation take over, shadowing the beautiful color of her eyes. Just as her shoulders dropped in defeat, he finally answered. “Liz and I were talking about my powers… how they’ve been growing… expanding, whatever. But it’s not important, I mean…” Kyle glanced away her attentive face proving a distraction as he searched for a way to explain without alarming her too. “No one outside our circle knows about them, I’m not in danger. That is, from the wrong people finding out, or from the powers themselves. And I’m just so frustrated that even with all I can do; I can’t do anything constructive—helpful. I can’t help the one person that…” he trailed off unsure how to complete the thought—the person that saved his life, his father’s…the person who lived in an absolute hell…the person who needed it most?

Isabel knew exactly who he was referring to and her gaze dropped to the ground, her failures still haunting her. Still facing the floor she quietly asked, her head shaking in wonder, “How have you not given up by now?”

Finding his tongue suddenly very thick, he bent his head to catch her gaze and cleared his throat. She lifted her head then, forcing herself to focus on Kyle rather than her own grief. As he answered Kyle found it harder to hold his gaze steady, the memories of blood and deception assaulting his mind, “I can’t. After what I did…” he swallowed the memory down painfully. If he had been more aware, had been stronger… “I should have prevented it.” Under the onslaught of horror in his mind, his chest convulsed, his breaths turning erratic.

She laid a soft hand on his and he tried not to focus on the return her gentle touch; however it did help to calm the rapid cadence of his heart. “What are you talking about Kyle?”

“Alex…” the name was revealed softly, but with much pain.

Isabel gasped, suddenly feeling the desperate need for air. She started to pull away, but seeing the guilt in Kyle’s eyes, she put aside her feelings for the moment to find out what he really wanted to say.

He had begun to lose his nerve at her reaction, but when she stayed, looking at him with sympathy and concern he found enough strength to continue. “I saw her do that to him. I should have stopped it. I let it happen to him. And now…I have another chance. If there’s anything I can do to prevent any further tragedy I’m going to do it. These dreams…he’s calling for help, Iz. I can’t ignore it.”

Her eyes lowered her dark lashes beginning to glisten. She murmured and leaning forward he heard her, “Why can’t I…”

“Isabel?”

She lifted her head with seemingly great effort. “Why can’t I see him Kyle?”

“He could be blocking you. He doesn’t expect me or… I don’t really know. This is usually yours or Liz’s department to answer.”

When she didn’t smile at his comment, he continued apprehensively. “Perhaps we could try together?”

Her eyes widened, the flecks of green and brown shimmering beautifully. Her lips trembled slightly as she tried to speak. Finally she just nodded, tightening the loose grip on his hand.

He smiled at her bent dark golden head. Maybe Max would finally listen this time. There’s no way he could deny his sister.

~ ~ ~
Mr. Evans… we’re finally going to grant you your wish. The end will be coming soon. Yes, you’ll be able to rest soon.

The agent’s voice played in his head over and over as he clung to the words with the little hope he still had. The end… he knew he shouldn’t be happy about that, he knew he didn’t deserve it, but it was so hard not to want it. All the pain… it would stop. He had no idea what would happen to him when he finally would cease to exist, each time he had come close, something else would happen, something terrifying. He desperately wished when the time came that it wouldn’t happen again.

So he waited eagerly listening for the door to open. He was stretched out again on the table and thus could not see anything but the bright ceiling. He would shift every so often trying to bring his head up to see the door, but it was just out of sight. After a while he gave up, too tired to continue.

He was staring at the ceiling when he sensed someone there. He knew it wasn’t an agent, the door hadn’t opened. “It worked…” he heard a soft voice breathe out. Though it seemed so long ago since he last heard the voice, he knew who it was. He didn’t question how he was there, after being haunted once before by the dead father at Christmas he knew it was definitely possible.

“What do you want Kyle?” He continued to stare up at the glaring lighted ceiling, sensing his approach.

Silence followed his question. He didn’t turn towards the ghost though, feeling a heated gaze upon him. So he asked again, his voice not only tired, but defeated, “Why are you here?”

Kyle couldn’t get his mouth to work, let alone order his jumbled thoughts. Max was finally acknowledging he was there. He wasn’t being pushed out. He wasn’t being ignored. As he tried to find his voice, he actually focused on Max’s image. The other times he had been in there, the connection had been shut too quickly for him to take it all in. He never realized Max’s full condition.

He stared now at Max’s body, pitifully cold in gray scrub pants. His bones painfully stuck out, each rib clearly revealed. But worse were the scars and burns that marred his entire body. And Kyle knew there were more hidden under the one piece of clothing the agents had granted him. He looked at Max’s wrists and ankles strongly held down in thick iron. He noticed a bit of dried blood by one of his wrists.

He turned away, unable to stomach anymore and wondering what Isabel must think. That’s when he realized Isabel wasn’t there with him. In a panic he looked around the room, but all he saw were white tiles. “Isabel?” He whispered out, forgetting no one but Max would hear him.

The silence had continued after Max’s second question, but then he heard the ghost call out for Isabel. Instantly he turned towards the voice, in hopeful search to see his sister one last time. But all he saw was Kyle.

He pursed his lips together, already feeling the endless tears about to start. He would not be weak any longer. The end was coming. They told him it was. His lips tightened in a thin line as he bit his tongue. The pain was inconsequential compared to all he had survived thus far, but it was enough to stop himself from breaking down. He let his head fall back into its usual position, staring up at the ceiling as he released a despondent sigh, “What else did I expect?”

Kyle whipped his head back to Max. He had yet to answer him. He had yet to start getting the information he needed to help get him out of this hell. He quickly stepped back towards him. “I’m sorry. Isabel was supposed to come with me; I don’t know where she went. But right now you need to help me find you.”

But Max was hardly listening to Kyle, too quick to enter his depressing thoughts. “I always thought when I died I would see my parents, Michael even, but most definitely Isabel and…Liz.” Even now her name would leave his lips with such love. “But…” humorless laughter bubbled out, “you? No offense, but I never thought it would be you.” The laughter continued, its intensity heightening.

“Max?” Kyle asked uncertainly, unsure how to react to this.

The laughter just continued turning maniacal. That’s when he heard the door slam open. He whipped his head to that corner seeing the man that had shot the agent buried in Max’s grave and he looked furious. The agent strode and within a few steps stood menacingly over a now hysterical Max.

“Mr. Evans.” His voice was raised enough to be heard over Max’s laughter, but remained controlled.

However, Max paid no heed. He was lost to his emotions that now tumbled out in laughter rather than the usual tears.

The agent breathed out slowly, seething at the prisoner’s behavior. His piercing cold eyes had no effect on Max, but as they turned to the wall behind Kyle, Kyle gasped and stumbled back. This man killed and tortured without thoughts of consequence; he worked above the law. Kyle was in even more awe that Max had survived under the hand of the killer before him. He also was more confused as to why Max would refuse help to escape.

Agent Felding turned back to the prisoner contemplating how to handle the latest development. The laughter was starting to die down, its eyes beginning to crack open. Its dark eyes peered up at him, freezing all movement for a second, but in the next its laughter erupted once more. The laughter was more subdued though and he heard the prisoner speak pathetically in hope, “Is it time?”

“No, Mr. Evans. Not even close.”

His words seemed to have the desired effect as all laughter ceased at his words. The prisoner became still once more, its head nodding forward in acceptance, its eyelids shuttered.

Kyle watched this scene unfold in front of him horrified and more confused than ever. “Time for what?” His voice trembled in fear that Max may not survive the night. When no response came he repeated his question, strengthening his voice, “Time for what? Max, what did you mean?”

Max slowly moved his head, flinching slightly at the touch of the cold metal table upon his cheek. “You know. That’s why you’re here.” He smiled, but there was no happiness in it.

“Who are you talking to?” The agent’s voice interrupted.

Max’s head immediately faced the agent, but he did not answer.

“Who are you talking to, Mr. Evans?” The agent leaned closer to Max, his eyes hard and unrelenting.

Max averted his own fearful eyes, trying to cringe into the unyielding steel table. He timidly replied, “Kyle.”

“Kyle who?”

“Kyle…Valenti.”

Agent Felding immediately straightened up in surprise. The prisoner couldn’t know that they had lied. Its powers had been disabled; it couldn’t possibly contact them… and besides that boy had been dismissed as a possible alien. He slowly searched the room, but saw nothing there. He stared down at the prisoner once more, but with curiosity this time. He studied its face carefully, the strain of the past few months evident.

Then it dawned on him. Of course, it was only a matter of time before it began to lose its mind. Deprived of everything, it was indeed a testament to its strength to last this long without going insane. Condescending laughter echoed in the room as he spoke, “I see now. Don’t worry, Mr. Evans, you’ll be joining him and the others soon enough.”

“Joining us?” Kyle questioned out loud.

He watched the agent lightly tap Max’s cheek; then proceed to check the restraints, tightening them. Kyle wished he could materialize long enough to knock that son-of-a-bitch out. But instead he went by Max’s ear whispering to him, “What is he talking about Max?”

Max turned slightly towards the urgent voice with a sad smile. “I understand why Isabel isn’t here. Or why Liz, or any of the others. How could any of them stand to see the person that caused their deaths? How can you?” he whispered back.

Kyle once again had no voice. He shook his head, not believing what he just heard. He looked between Max and the agent struggling to speak as he slowly comprehended Max’s words. Then he heard the laughter begin once more.

~ ~ ~
“Kyle?” Isabel called out in the darkness unable to see him. His voice faded in and out around her, disorienting her. “Kyle, what’s going on? Where are you? Who are you talking to?” She shouted out questions, panic seeping into her voice. “Kyle, are you ok? What is going on?” Her voice sounded small to her in the endless expanse of darkness. She felt her arms close around herself as she tried to figure out what to do; all the while listening carefully for Kyle’s voice.

~ ~ ~
“You bastards!” Kyle screamed out at the oblivious agent. “You told him that?!” he blurted out, wanting to throttle the agent beside him. He could not believe what he was hearing, what he was seeing. He glanced down at Max, who still was hysterical. The poor guy, he thought. He was losing it and if they didn’t get him out soon it may be too late. He had to get through to Max, to get him to understand that the agents were lying to him. He leaned over trying to still Max’s shaking head to look only at him. “Max, they’re lying to you. We’re alive. All of us. We’re trying to find you. Please, help us find you.”

The phantom hands holding on to Max’s head made no difference. He continued on, his eyes closing. In his hysteria he could block out the over bearing whiteness, his frightening torturer and the taunting ghost. The ghost kept speaking to him, but he refused to believe him. It was far more likely they were all dead, than alive and looking for him.

He wanted to hide his head in his arms like he used to in the other white room. He assumed it had been a different place, for that room seemed smaller then and there were always soldiers around. Here, there were only agents. So his arms strained desperately against the metal bands, but there was no give. He felt one cut in a still sensitive, recent wound and the warm trickle of blood down his wrist.

“Max, listen to me. They are lying to you. We are alive. We are safe. You need to tell me what you know. Please, Max,” Kyle tried again, a new sense of urgency filling him as he saw new blood join the previously marked trail on Max’s wrist; as well as the agent turning towards the opening door.

He saw someone dressed in white, covered from head to toe, his face obscured behind a mask. He was followed by another dressed the same pulling a small table with a black case on it. The first one walked up to the agent speaking in quick hushed tones.

Agent Felding listened with great interest to the lab’s latest result. They believed they finally found a chemical agent that would disorient the prisoner enough to tell the truth, but not lose all capability of speech. “It’ll take an hour to take effect, sir. However, it would be far more effective if the subject were calm. Perhaps we could knock it out for a brief period?” The technician tentatively suggested.

Agent Felding regarded the frantic prisoner and then glanced at the case brought in. He nodded, approving the suggestion. The two technicians immediately carried out the order. The first prepared the syringe, while the second prepared the prisoner. He cleaned its right arm and then slapped at it to find a susceptible vein. However, all possible ones had been abused for months already. They would just have to improvise.

Agent Felding motioned for the technicians to continue after they paused looking for another place. He didn’t care how much it would hurt the prisoner, “Do it already.” The technicians glanced at each other for a short moment then the first one injected the first serum into the prisoner.

Kyle could only watch helplessly as the agents shot Max up with some chemical. He saw his friend’s face wince in pain, hearing his breathy cry. Max’s eyes had closed briefly as the syringe entered his skin. He could feel the burning pain of it traveling through Max’s veins as if it traveled through his own. He breathed heavily through the pain, holding onto Max’s closest hand. The room began to tilt, first one way then the other. It swirled around them, disorienting Kyle that he let go of Max’s hand to hold his head in both of his own.

~ ~ ~
The darkness began to fade around her as swirls of white light replaced it. She turned around in confusion and apprehension. *What was going on?* Just as the thought came to mind, she stood in shock. The image blurred in the swirling light appearing like a ghostly oasis. She couldn’t move, frozen in disbelief. But then she heard a voice she never thought she’d hear again call out, “Isabel?” Before she could respond the darkness came back in a forceful rush.

Her eyes blinked open refocusing on a disconcerted Kyle. Her mouth opened and closed silently, her voice still held captive by her shock. But finally it escaped to utter one devastated word, “Max?”

[behrinthecity]

Hi Everyone! I'm back-- I wanted to post this last week, but last minute RL got in the way. Sorry for that delay! Also, depending on how many times the following parts take in the beta-ing process, more parts may be posted up soon. I'll try my best, so that that can be somewhat compensation for you having to wait for a new part while I deal with finals and then go on my x'mas break.

Thanks as always for the wonderful feedback

MiY-

Sort of like some dinosaur movie called Valley of the Lost, where it ends with two tyrannosaurus rexes tearing each other apart!

wait... did you just call me a t-rex?! At least give me something a bit more intelligent-- like a raptor.... sigh look what you've brought me to-- having me consider what type of dinosaur I should be heh heh

But thank you for the wonderful comments as always, you really are too good to me And love your thoughts on why Kyle is the one to get in

Just one thing--

And Isabel only saw or heard anything at the end because Max got thrown out of his certainties that everyone was dead, so the block came down.

Not quite that he's doubting if the others are dead, rather the drug injected into his system caused him to lose any control he had over his mind-- and so the block came down long enough for Isabel to get in before Max lost consciousness.

alienmom- Thanks!!

Ellie-

Hope they're going to get a location out of someone else because it doesn't seem like he's going to be of much use in that department.

look out for that-- just a few more parts until that point.

Timelord31- Thanks as always

Flamehair- No worries! And aww... I should warn you then about this part-- have tissues handy.

confusedfool- That will be in the part after this!

Scottie- "when" noted! And you're following along fine, don't worry if you're still confused-- things will get clearer and clearer.

cherie-

I'm curious also as to why Isabel couldn't get in..... Where is Michael? Is he with the ones that are going to rescue their King? Okay, I need answers here. Come back soon. I love this story.

Answers you shall have-- but they will be in the couple of parts after this one I can tell you though that Michael is not with the ones that are there to help rescue their king.

clueless- Welcome and thank you!

magikhands- good to see you again!

That's my theory as well. That or he and Max have that "special" connection I love writing about Sorry, my smutting mind working overtime there

ahh you... but I must say-- you're right about a "special" connection, just not quite the way you're thinking of The part after this one has a hint in it about that.

And on to the story...

Previously...

Sweat cooled from his body as he rushed through the hallways to keep up with Liz. Having no idea where she was leading him, he remained behind her, following blindly. Finally she turned into a room and he was surprised to find himself in the art room. He glanced around, somewhat relieved to find the room deserted. The sudden sound of Liz’s bag hitting the table drew him instantly back to her fiercely determined face. Though he knew he should be apprehensive about what she wanted to talk about, he could only focus on the fact that once again he was alone with her. And at that moment he knew whatever she wanted he would probably give it.

“I need to know the truth Max.”

Everything else she said seemed to fade away as he just gazed into her wide eyes. Only a part of him was aware of the half-hearted threat in her words and though his heart knew she wouldn’t follow through with it, he complied easily. “Okay.” [From The Pilot]
~ ~

“There, stop there.” Felding pointed. The tape began to play again, showing the prisoner utterly still, its head tilted back slightly, its chin angled upwards. Then they heard it speak. They could not discern any of the words. The nonsensical sounds were low, but almost lyrical. However, each word increased in volume, accompanied by an expression of anger upon their prisoner’s face. Its words were shorter, succinct, the angry tone unmistakable. Then suddenly all was silent. They saw the prisoner’s hands pack tightly into fists and its whole body seemed to strain against the metal bonds. Then, increasing the volume, they heard its final whispered words. Once uttered, its body went limp, a slight splash resounding in the tank. The agents heard its heartbeat slow into a steady resting rhythm and its temperature dropped.
~ ~

Agent Felding listened with great interest to the lab’s latest result. They believed they finally found a chemical agent that would disorient the prisoner enough to tell the truth, but not lose all capability of speech. “It’ll take an hour to take effect, sir. However, it would be far more effective if the subject were calm. Perhaps we could knock it out for a brief period?” The technician tentatively suggested.

Agent Felding nodded, approving the suggestion.


PART TWENTY-NINE

Langley, Virginia
Warehouse- Sub-basement level- Containment Room

White slowly replaced the blanket of darkness he rested in. His limbs seemed to quake, the sudden rush of his blood like a growing fire upon his body.

He felt a thin dagger stab his arm, causing his head to thrash against the frigid metal bed. Then in an instant the excited flames beneath his skin dampened into nothingness. A cool, numbing sensation flowed instead, bringing his heart into a slow, steady beat. His sight saw only white now, but it no longer blinded him. He gazed out as if through a mist.

His breaths were slowing too, now, his struggles ceasing. His tongue attempted to touch his lip where he had bit it too hard only moments before, but its weight required too much effort to move.

Then something reached out to him.

He wanted to flinch, but the attacking object had gone before his clouded mind could react and move his head away. It came back, though, and this time he focused on identifying it.

It was a hand.

The hand wiped his lip with gauze, effectively ending the bleeding. Then he felt his head being pushed up as water was squirted into his mouth. It slid uneasily down his throat, causing him to choke. He coughed, feeling the stiff sensation of rubber chafing his skin as a gloved hand supported his meek protests to the liquid.

Moments later his head rested against the slab of metal beneath him. The hand left him and he closed his eyes, believing he could rest.

But then heat and light hit his face. He squinted into a beam of yellow, the brightness rivaling that of the room’s existing white light. It remained relentlessly upon his face and he vainly tried to avert his eyes.

He gazed blankly through the haze now tinted by the accosting lamp. He could barely grasp his thoughts, his mind spinning drunkenly. But with his slowing heartbeat, one thought began to push its way through the dizziness.

The spinning slowed, allowing him to search through the mist for his beloved, the one who anchored him in life. But he could see nothing beyond the mocking, brilliant golden shine.

Then the light lessened, a shadow falling across his face. His heart leapt at the possibility she had come as he welcomed the cool darkness. He released a tired breath of relief, only to inhale it a second later as he saw the cause of the shadow.

“And how are we today, Mr. Evans?” his head tormentor asked, with not a hint of expression on his hardened face.

He refused to answer, wishing for the agent to leave, to let him be, already.

But then hands unhindered by gloves gripped the short strands of his hair, lifting his head closer to the face of evil. “Answer me, Mr. Evans.”

He whimpered slightly as the fingers dug further, causing the pain to spread within his weary head. “Why do…” he breathed heavily, each word stumbling over his tongue, “…you care?”

“Who said I did?” the agent answered, dropping Max’s head back against the table.

Max’s head lolled against the metal surface as he tried to gather his bearings, but the spinning gray lines of the tile edges, the sickeningly yellow light and the mask of hate on the agent’s face held him captive to the horrible dizzying sensation.

“Now I’m going to try one last time to get through to you, Mr. Evans.” The agent was close to his face again, but the words just rolled over him.

“I tire of asking you the same questions. You know you won’t ever see anything beyond these walls again. You know there’s no one to go back to. But how and when you finally leave...” the agent paused, the thought hanging thickly in the air. “…is still up to you.”

Max had briefly closed his eyes and when he opened the mist was slightly thinner, allowing him a bit more awareness than before. He laughed mirthlessly at the thought he had a choice in anything, when he had already given up everything to the man before him.

“I don’t know anything. When are you going to get it? I don’t know anything,” he retorted.

“Finally getting an attitude, Mr. Evans? Why make things so hard on yourself?” The agent tried to speak emotionlessly, but anger and annoyance tinged each word.

“I hate you.”

Felding eyed the prisoner with surprise. It seems the latest chemical did have some effects after all—it seemed to lend some courage to the alien. Or perhaps it realized that no matter how much it cowered and begged, the end result would be the same. Either way, he wondered if this sudden candor would finally result in actual answers. So he began the inane questions he had pounded at the prisoner since the day he had finally gained full custody.

“What is your name?”

“As if you don’t know.” Max was hardly aware of what he was saying, his senses overwhelmed with anger and tiredness.

“Just state your name.” Felding narrowed his eyes, his voice menacing as ever.

“Max Evans.”

As always, Felding had to test the serum’s effect on the validity of the prisoner’s answers, “What were your parents’ names?”

“Philip and Diane Evans.”

“Where did you live with them?”

“6025 Murray Lane, Roswell, New Mexico.”

“What high school did you attend?”

“West Roswell High.”

“In 1999, did you heal a girl of a bullet wound?”

“Yes.”

Though no emotion was reflected on Felding’s face, a sense of satisfaction grew steadily within him at each answer. True, the prisoner had admitted all of this before, but always with much hesitation. But before he could be sure it was the serum allowing the ease in gaining information he had one last test question.

“What is your brother’s name?”

After a short pause where Max’s face frowned with confusion, “I don’t have a brother.”

Felding smiled with satisfaction. The serum worked perfectly. And so he began to seek the answers he had waited months to extract from the alien. “Are you an alien-hybri…”

Max tuned out the agent’s questions, just tired of it all. The call of his heart once more resounded through him, urging him to search the mist for her. But his eyes could not withstand the light and so his eyelids slowly lowered. However, his eyes were not met by darkness.

Golden streams of sunlight filtered into the art room, giving soft highlights to her hair. Her dark eyes were wide and filled with curiosity and determination. Then a flash of white caught his eye and he saw her glance down at a list. She released a quick breath as she demanded to know the truth. And he easily complied. For when it came to her, he wanted her to know it all… to know all his secrets…to know him.

“Are there other aliens on Earth?”

“Yes.”

Her lips shined with sweet pink gloss as they formed each question. He remembered imagining at that moment what it would be like to kiss her, to touch those lips. But he couldn’t revel in memories of finally tasting those lips, as she continued to seek her answers. Her need to know seemed even more overwhelming than he had thought it would be, but her insatiable curiosity was one of the many qualities he loved about her.

She had referred much to her list, her face heating with embarrassment, but the light blush tingeing her skin only added to her beauty. She soon glowed, the sunlight surrounding her like a halo, the golden beams reaching out towards him. Entranced by her ethereal image he hungrily gazed at her, taking in her wide eyes as she broached yet another question, before focusing on her fascinating lips. Their motion slowed and golden light began to shroud her face, as she asked, “Are Isabel and Michael…”

“and Liz Park—” Felding broke off as the prisoner softly replied.

“Yes.”

Felding fell silent for a moment, surprised that the prisoner finally revealed what he had known all along—it had been a lie. The others were aliens. His lips twitched upward with smug satisfaction. He made a mental note to allocate more men on the hunting mission. For months he had spared only a few men to continue the search for the others on his own belief that they were indeed aliens. Now with an actual admission and no further use for this one he felt he could easily send most of his team to focus on finding the others with one sole mission to destroy.

His mind filled with thoughts of victory, but he knew he could not let on that the others were still alive. And so he leaned closer to the prisoner, whispering in its ear, “I knew it. It’s almost a shame that we didn’t save their bodies for further examination. The samples we could have compared…especially from Liz Parker—”

Felding stopped at the sudden attack upon his face.

In the silence, white had taken over Max’s sight. In confusion, his eyes had searched through the mist for his soul mate, but instead he saw his tormentor and then he had heard the hated voice refer to Liz.

Though his jaw had felt slack under the numbness that still flowed through his system his anger managed to grant him the strength to attack his captor. Jerking his head forward he had spat upward aiming at the swirling shadow of hatred before him. As his head fell back, his strength gone, he managed to hiss out, “Sample that.”

In disgust, Felding quickly reached out to the supply tray while wiping his face. After properly cleaning his face and hands he donned gloves and gripped the back of the prisoner’s head. With another hand he wiped at the little dribble of spit by its mouth as he whispered once more in its ear, “Save it for later.”

Unable to suppress it, Max shuddered. His eyes closed as he fought down the sudden rise of nausea. He knew what would be coming— that after leaving him in absolute silence and loneliness they would return to strip him of everything yet again. He hated how they had made him dependent upon their touch, as a connection to life, to a feeling other than numbness… but each time the hands reached out to him, he instantly regretted the contact, each touch a vile assault.

“Uh, uh, uh…” he heard the agent scold. “We’re not done yet, Mr. Evans.”

He squeezed his eyes tighter, not wanting to acknowledge his hellish reality any longer. He willed his mind to lose itself in memories of love, color… life, but then the sound of his own voice drew him back to the endless whiteness.

He listened with apprehension to the strange, yet familiar words, his eyes drawn to his interrogator when he heard the click of the recording being turned off.

“Tell me what that means,” the steely voice of the agent commanded.

Max remained silent, still trying to process that those… alien words had indeed come from him.

“What were you saying there?”

He felt compelled to answer that question, and so he clumsily urged his jaw to move, “I…d-do-n’t know.”

Felding moved away from the prisoner, his back tense with frustration. So it truly did not know what it said. But it had to know something, why did it exist if it had no purpose? And so he turned once more to the alien, asking, “Does your species have a plan? Was that what it was about?”

Again Felding met with silence and so placing his hands upon the gurney’s edge he relentlessly glared into its eyes. “The plan to take over our planet— was that what it was? Were you talking about your sordid purpose of existence?”

“I don’t know,” Max murmured as he cowered under the hardened stare of his torturer.

Felding stared for several moments at the terrified prisoner while he searched for a possible explanation to the recording. Finally struck by an interesting thought he leaned closer, “Does it have anything to do with your status on your planet?”

“My… st-status?” The gray lines swirled violently behind the agent’s head, increasing his feeling of queasiness.

“A king.” Felding stressed the last word with scorn, scoffing at the thought that this despicable thing could hold such an exalted position.

As the alien looked off into a distant corner, Felding stood back observing it. “So it’s true. You… are a king?” he asked with incredulity.

“Yes.” The reply was soft, meek.

Unable to hold back, Felding snorted—a sound that did not often come from him. “Well your highness, why would your planet send you here, to Earth?”

“I don’t know.” Its voice trembled as it reiterated yet again the tired line.

“No idea, whatsoever?” he fished, sensing there was something his question was lacking to gather the truth from the prisoner.

“I was sent here…to live so I could go back. But there’s nothing to go back to, except… death,” Max dully commented.

“And how would you go back?” Felding instantly pounced on the new information to see if there had been a ship the government had missed.

“There was a ship, where our pods used to be… but Tess used it. There’s nothing left.” Max’s eyes closed briefly as he remembered the betrayals of his so-called protector and former wife. He felt his chest tighten at the memory of learning that he had indeed caused the death of their friend and how close he had been to causing his sister’s as well. But then he realized that he had ultimately been the reason for his sister’s death, as well as everyone else’s. His face began to crumple as he struggled to not cry.

“Shh… Mr. Evans. Like I said, save it for later.”

Max focused his gaze on the condescending agent, the sight beginning to blur as tears welled up. He hated the man who stood over him, but he had no strength to fight.

“Kill me…please.” It was a plea he had spoken many times since he had awoken in his white prison.

Felding watched the prisoner dispassionately as he stripped off his gloves, unceremoniously depositing them to the side. Once again he leaned closer, lowering his voice, “Saved for later.”

He saw its head jerk away as its entire body shivered. Felding stood back up, eyeing the captured creature in disgust. Pathetic, he thought. Without another word he exited the room and through the communication system instructed his agents, “Accelerate the search. Once found, kill them on sight.”

[behrinthecity]

Thank you Flamehair and Scottie for your comments! I see I need to clear a couple of things up though...

Flamehair--

What I don't understand - why does Felding know that Max was a king on Antar?

Hmm... perhaps I should have included this in the previously's... basically during the scene where Kyle and Maria visit Max and Alex's grave-- they were being recorded the entire time and they both made references to Max being a king. So the agents would have heard that, though not necessarily believe it.

Scottie--

Or was it Max's mind that just dealt in its own way by thinking Liz was the one asking the questions so it would be able to deal with the whole interrogation? (Does that even make sense? )

It was his own mind, blurring the lines between dreams and reality. And yep, what you said made sense to me!

Oh and just had to quote this...

Heh heh. Right about now, Agent Fielding, I'd say the species' plan is to take your ass out!

The next chapter has been sent off for beta-ing, it may require one more round... so hopefully sometime mid-next week I can post it.

And also wanted to give a HUGE thanks to everyone that nominated this story-- you guys are amazing. Thank you so much for reading and enjoying it.