Roswell Fanatics

LTL and Scottie-- I definitely know the feeling of being left hanging with a really good, gripping story and so let me assure you all that I will not do that to you guys. If there is any reason I would not be able to post for a while I would be sure to give you guys a heads up and probably compensate with more parts and shorter intervals between those parts, before I go MIA.

About the other stories... honestly I hadn't even given any thought to posting them until I was asked. I mean... it took a lot of convincing from my roommate/beta to get me to post this one but I am glad I did, since so many of you are so encouraging about it. Anyway, if I were to start posting another story when still posting this one it would JUST BE ONE. I don't think I could handle doing more than two at the moment. But for now I'll stick to just getting this story out, with only two real gaps to fill in the story, I have already much plans for it detailed out. So I hope you all continue to keep reading and that I can make it worth your time.

cherie- heh heh such a fitting name for the agents! hmm a just punishment for them, you'll just have to see.

behrinthecity is spoiling us!!

It's only fair, when you guys leave me such wonderful feedback! All of your comments give me the confidence to continue posting this story. So thank you.

And as a gift to tide you over for the weekend... Enjoy.

PART TWELVE

Four months after graduation
Canada

“Ready for your weekly dream walk?” Isabel asked Liz, as she settled back onto her pillows.

Tucking her hair nervously behind her ear, Liz nodded. Even after doing this so many times, she still felt apprehensive each time she connected with Isabel. The possibility of getting lost… she knew it was irrational, they had done it so many times, but she couldn’t help it. However, this time was even more nerve wracking for her… even though her parents now knew the truth, well part of it anyway from the Evans and her own ‘visits’, she finally felt it was time for them to know everything. She was going to tell them to read her journal. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Ok. So, just like the other times, let yourself relax, clear your mind. When you’re ready, focus on your parents, and just your parents.” Isabel instructed as she had countless times before.

Willing her hands to cease their shaking as they laid in Isabel’s, Liz was grateful that Isabel never used the same words Max had so long ago. She took several deep breaths, counting as she inhaled and exhaled. She slowly began to calm down and as her mind drifted she tried to think of her parents and only them.

“Honey?” Liz turned around at her mother’s voice. As she took in her parents’ appearances she smiled.

“On time as usual. Come here Lizzie.” Her father commented lightly, stretching his arms outward for a hug. She ran to him and was soon wrapped, not only in his embrace, but her mother’s as well.

“We’re glad you’re still all right,” her mother stated as she smoothed her once again brown hair.

“I’m glad you guys are too.” Liz replied, already tearing up with emotion. It was so hard being apart from them, she almost found it hard to believe that she said she was ready to leave them behind just last year. “Maria told me that the agents finally left.” She paused, still hesitant about revealing the events of the past three years.

“Yeah, I think we finally managed to convince them we didn’t know anything more. I just wish you could come back, honey.”

“I know dad. But, maybe some day you guys can come to live with me, when it’s safe enough. And I really hope that day will come. However, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“I thought you already told us everything, what else could there be?” Her mother asked before she could continue.

“I did, sort of. I told you the basics, what you needed to know so that these visits wouldn’t scare you, but you don’t know the details—the full story. All the reasons why I would sneak out at night, would leave in the middle of my shifts, why I seemed upset and secretive, why Max and I landed in jail… yet still loved each other more than anyone could even imagine. I kept a journal of everything that happened to me over the last three years. It starts with the Crashdown shooting and ends right before graduation. I had originally planned to take it with me, but after what happened I decided it best it remained hidden… just in case. Now that the agents seem to be out of Roswell, I think it’s safe that you guys read it. And though it may not make sense at first, you’ll find a diamond ring with it too. Please don’t get upset. I, Max, all of us… have been through so much. We’ve endured things most people never have to in their entire lives. The only constant thing was love and friendship among us. I warn you, a lot of misunderstandings happened between me and Max, but we worked through it. No matter how bad it sounds, just know I was safe when I was with him, I really was. Don’t hate him. If it wasn’t for him, I would have died four years ago. If it wasn’t for him, I would never have known true love. And if it wasn’t for him, graduation would have been a worse tragedy than it was.” Once she had started, it all came tumbling out, but at the thought of Max, she started to falter and finally had to stop, before she broke down and possibly lost the connection.

Both her parents were shocked in to silence for a few moments. Then her dad sputtering broke out of it, “D-d-diamond ring??”

A slight smile lit her face at the magical memory of his proposal. He had been so earnest, so sweet, so wonderful…so Max. He had been the Max she had missed for much of the previous year. “You’ll read about it in the journal. Please just promise you’ll save your judgments till after you’re done reading?” She pleadingly looked at them.

They regarded her for a moment, seeing how important this was to her. “Of course,” they agreed.

“Thank you.” She hugged them both, smiling. “You’ll find it in the wall between my room and the balcony, there’s a loose brick. Be careful. I love you both. I’ll see you next week.” With that she kissed them both goodbye and faded away as she closed the connection.

She slowly opened her eyes and found Isabel keenly watching her. Without her asking, Liz assured her, “It’ll be ok,” giving her a serene smile. She was starting to believe things may actually get better… that it will be okay.

alienmom, LTL, magikhands, cherie- glad you all found this a sweet part... thought you guys could use a little breather from the angst! And I didn't really consider making the journal that integral to the story... so as Liz believes-- we can trust the Parkers. I may include a reflective/flashback part later on to show their reaction to what they read.

LTL- I was thinking of the whole MITC thing when I came up with my name, but I didn't realize that it would become BITC ...
So anyway, no worries... if you do want to shorten it... BTC or city is fine .

And on with the story...

sigh... not quite sure if I'm completely happy with the next couple of parts I'll be posting, but don't want to leave you guys waiting longer than I have already. So be gentle... and enjoy!

PART THIRTEEN

A week earlier
Art Gallery- Seattle, Washington

It was quiet in the afternoons. The critics and buyers seemed to prefer coming in the evenings or the mornings leaving their afternoons open for meetings. The tourist groups were less frequent at this time of year. Only a few people strolled leisurely throughout the gallery admiring the work, particularly the latest exhibition that had opened two weeks ago.

Presently three people stood in this exhibitory wing, two of them a young couple whispering about the paintings and the mysterious artist. The third was a tall man with black hair and the stormiest eyes one could ever see. Before the couple had entered he had taken his own tour of the show; each painting he viewed causing his gray eyes to seem increasingly cloudier. He had finally stopped in front of the painting titled, “Stolen Childhood.”

This painting had been the last one he created. This was the one that still hurt him the most whenever he saw it. Each painting held pain for him, memories hidden in the strokes, but this one especially wracked him with guilt. Max’s life had ended too shortly and his childhood even more so. Though he had a rough time growing up through the foster system, he finally understood that not everything was perfect about Max’s life either. The child he had painted perfectly captured Max’s intense expression conveying a deep seriousness and unnaturally strong sense of responsibility. Just like in reality the child remained alone, vigilantly watching but never enjoying. Max never had a real childhood. Unlike Michael, Max barely gave himself the luxury to just shirk responsibilities and have fun. Even on their Vegas trip, Max had been on alert. He wasn’t a robot, just a kid that had to grow up faster than anybody else. He had an entire planet counting on him; on earth he watched out for them and was expected to lead them through every crisis. In his short life, he had endured unimaginable pain and had still managed to pull himself together. And twice he died to save another. In every possible aspect, his childhood had been stolen.

Painting all the work that hung on these walls had been somewhat cathartic for him. It helped him to deal with his confusing emotions providing him an outlet to express them. It helped him not miss Maria as much. But once they were done, he was suddenly surrounded by the emotions that had been whirling within him and deep down still did. His guilt was all encompassing and the paintings had become the salt in an open wound. The thing is he didn’t want to stop; it’s as if he felt this was his penance. To never forget. If he had listened, had stayed with them, things could have been different.

As he stood there ignoring the whispering couple he half expected his agent to show up again. Since the show opened she had been after him to sell his paintings. As tempting as the prices she quoted were, it didn’t feel right to him. It wasn’t what these paintings were for.

***** Michael stood nervously in the gallery’s foyer, scratching at his eyebrow and constantly adjusting his tie. Somehow his agent had convinced him to wear a tux tonight; apparently his work had attracted a number of powerful, high-society people. This was his chance of a lifetime. If this turned out as successful as she was predicting he’d be set for life.

He glanced back to where curtains shrouded the entrance of his exhibit. The gallery owner impressed with his work had provided an entire wing for him and granted the paintings to hang for a whole month. The past few days he had set them up, ensuring the right amount of light hit each painting so that none would be over-shadowed by another. Not only were the spotlights aligned perfectly, the paintings were at the right angles to take advantage of the skylight during the day. He wished he were in there right now, hidden by the curtains. Was it necessary for him to be there at all?

When he came to Seattle he had intended to stay as low profile as possible, getting a job as a construction worker. After he got a decent enough place to settle in, he bought a few art supplies for something to do on the weekends, choosing not to socialize with the guys at work so much. Sometimes he would take a walk, sit in a random spot and start sketching. When he sketched he would focus on the subject solely, almost forgetting to keep his guard up for any possible agents. One day when he heard a voice behind him he had thought for a moment that that was it for him. However, as he turned around and saw a slender red headed woman and realized the voice had been friendly and feminine he calmed down. She told him that she was an agent (not government) and was interested in representing him if he ever decided to go public with his work. He declined, but she was rather insistent—saying he had a raw talent she had not seen in long time. As she turned to leave she gave him her card and said to call her when he changed his mind. Her quick, persistent attitude left him in a slight stupor. There was something about her that seemed so familiar that as much as he wanted to say no, he heard himself call out to her, “I’ll come by tomorrow.” His outburst was rewarded with a bright smile and that’s when he realized, she was so much like Maria.

So here he was, greeting all the guests to the unveiling of his exhibit. They milled around sipping at drinks, nibbling at some crackers or whatever small thing being served on the trays; his agent mingling among them. Glancing at them all, he wished he could be eating a burger somewhere or drinking at a bar watching some sports.

Just when he couldn’t take it any longer they finally announced the commencement of the evening. They called him up and he mumbled a short explanation to his paintings and opened the curtains before they could say anything. He seriously wanted this night over with. As they all entered, the crowd was immediately silenced. For minutes no one said anything, all of them wide eyed as they gazed at the paintings. Finally someone breathed out, “Breathtaking.” The soft words seemed to break the spell and they all began to murmur among themselves as they slowly passed by each painting. At this he decided to get some air. He never went back in, but he didn’t leave either. He just looked up at the sky.

Later on his agent approached him excitedly. “Ray, you’re a hit! Just as I predicted, they love it, they love you! You won’t believe the offers for your paintings. A couple of usual high-bidders are looking to take the entire collection!” She continued to bubble out, but he spoke over her.

“They’re not for sale.”

After a few seconds, she back pedaled a bit, then exclaimed, “What?”

“They are not for sale.”

“But Ray, think about all this money. Just consider the offers. I mean, if you’re planning on waiting a bit, have more people view them, no worries.”

“I’m not waiting. I’m not selling.”

“Why?” Her voice was almost hushed now in comparison to earlier.

“I—they’re just not for sale.” He couldn’t explain it to her. No one would ever understand without knowing the whole story and that was not an option. *****

He hadn’t realized he had been staring off into space for so long that he was startled by a voice. “Excuse me, but are you Ray Harris?”

Regarding the couple in front of him, he guardedly replied, “Yeah.”

They glanced at each other with broad smiles. Then the female gushed on, “We love your paintings. Every one of them is beautiful. Whatever inspired you…it’s just, amazing. Anyway, we were wondering if you would mind giving us an autograph?”

He didn’t know what to say. He never expected such a request and he was still reeling from the reminder of his inspiration. “Autograph?”

“I’m sorry… it’s just when we heard none of these were for sale, we wanted something to remind us of this… experience of seeing them. And the fact that we could get to meet the creator of all this… I’m sorry” The woman profusely apologized, blushing embarrassedly.

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised.” He tried to smile to reassure her.

They gave him a book and pen and he signed it with his usual 'insignia' that graced all his paintings. A linked ‘r’ and ‘H’ that looked like an ‘M’, he knew it was risky, but this was art, he didn’t think the agents would think to look there. They left soon after he signed it and he was alone again with his paintings.

He finally tore himself away from the last one and went back to gaze at the others. There was one of a lounge, all tinged in blue except for the black and white singer and the small doorway showing a glimpse of a bright colorful casino where a winning couple hugged in celebration at a table. Another was of a carnival, a group of young kids running ahead of their parents to the Ferris wheel, where couples could be seen holding each other. In the corner of that was a tent, the fortune teller gazing through the flaps of black, illuminated by a white crystal ball surrounded by her laid out tarot cards. Another was a park, where under a tree sat a couple enjoying a picnic. One was of the beach, all teeming with life and color except for two kids digging a moat around a sand castle, one of them being the same boy as his last painting. One showed a girl walking her Dalmatian in a small town, her sneakers gray, but a distinctive Kermit patch of white was on it. Another showed kids sitting around a campfire, lit in color, while the little boy and girl that had shown in many of the paintings ran off into the dark woods. The last one he focused on was an image of a house, similar to the Evans one, a small toddler attempting to walk to his mother whose arms were outstretched, as the father watched their black and white forms from the shadowed doorway.

Each displayed his mistakes, his dreams, his fears, his hopes, his deepest desires and regrets. They were never meant to be sold. They were meant to be seen by the ones he could never see again.

As the sunlight began to dim he finally moved to leave. He stood up taking one last parting look of the mother and child painting. Leaving the exhibition he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. Feeling something odd, he paused, digging deeper into his left pocket. Catching onto something he pulled it out and found a piece of paper. Reading the scrawled message he suddenly tensed and began to search the place, but no one was around besides the security guards; even the couple was gone. Wondering if this was a set up he committed the message to memory then crumpled it up and tossed it away, his hand glowing ever so slightly as he passed a trash can. With one last sweeping gaze of the gallery he left.

Across the street a shadowed figure observed ‘Ray’ turn up the collar of his jacket against the cold wind.

nusta- thank you for posting. Do you mean about Michael not heading back to graduation? Well I created the premise of this story based on the idea that I don't think Michael would really have made the connection that Madame Vivian was hinting at, since he believed her to be a crackpot, nor see the army/unit heading towards the school to return back. And once he found out about Max... he knew it was still far too dangerous to return, so he stuck with his original plan-- to get as far away as possible.

alienmom- you are too funny!! (But I'll have to agree with that comparison ). And behr is fine, I was going to suggest that too along with the others, but wasn't sure if other names were similarly shortened and didn't want any confusion! But if there isn't, go for it!

RoswellScripter- thank you for posting! great to see new readers.

cherie and magikhands- well this part may give you a bit more information about where the note came from... but in terms of what it said, that is for later.

For those of you in the States, hope you're all having a nice memorial day weekend! Since things are going to start getting super crazy in about a couple of weeks, I'm going to start posting a bit more often in compensation. Hope that's ok.


PART FOURTEEN

The Day Before
Seattle, Washington
A Townhouse

It was raining today, the wind howled, loudly proclaiming the entering storm. The streets were wet and deserted among the quiet suburban area of the city. The lights glowed from each house except for one. This one appeared desolate revealing no presence or light through its shrouded windows; however, hidden in the den, sat one man.

He sat before the hearth, gathering the warmth spilling from its flames. In his hand twirled a small white card, one that he had glanced upon often in the past three weeks. A phone number and the letters L, A, N and G were printed on it. He had gotten it three weeks ago; on the day he had been fired.

***** He stayed in the small dark room still shaken by the confrontation with his boss. His mind was thinking of various plans to get his family to safety, but he felt none of them were secure enough to depend on. All he knew was the sooner he left the better. He waited until the noise outside the observation room died down; signaling that the transport of the prisoner had begun.

Glancing through the one-way glass again at the darkened examination room, now appearing bigger than it actually was, he cautiously stepped through the door. No one was there anymore; even the permanently stationed soldiers outside the main door to this secured section had left. He turned to the right toward the locker room where each agent could place any needed belongings, as there were times when they would be there all day and night. He quickly emptied his locker and ensured his gun had plenty of ammunition; just in case. As he vacated the room, he 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?”

The young agent 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.”

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 turned to leave, but after one step looked over his shoulder at the agent, “By the way if I were you, I’d look for help in those you can always depend on and head as far as you can from here—in any direction.”

The agent nodded slightly then placed the card in his pocket. As he looked back up the general had disappeared from sight. *****

He had chosen to go west. His wife had family in Montana so he dropped her and their son there and continued towards the coast, finally settling in Seattle. Every week he called to check up on them, scrambling the line. Each time he reminded them of their emergency plan in their special code. The reason they were so up North was so if need be they could become Canucks. All they would have to do is go up to Vancouver and officially the Unit could not follow. But, if there were any agents that believed they were above the law, he was ready for them.

Still as focused as he was to get his family to safety and be able to support them with his now bank teller job, he was often plagued by guilt. All alone in the house his mind would wander to the young dark-haired prisoner of the Unit. He would always remind himself that the boy was an enemy of the nation, a threat, a genuine dangerous ET. Yet, the last memory of him always brought doubt and would cause him to consider the card once more. “True justice” the man had said. Was that necessarily a better thing than what the Unit was doing to handle the enemy? Would it be to free him, possibly putting the nation in danger? Would it be to kill him, putting him out of misery, but then committing cold-blooded murder? Would he have to be the one to do that? Could he do that? He knew that when he entered the Unit he had to be prepared to be sent out on missions to hunt the enemy down and kill them, but then they had wanted this one alive. All they had to do was aid in interrogation, preparation and transport. Still, the general admired his humane action towards the prisoner. Perhaps the general knew more. Perhaps he had been part of the wrong side all along—nothing about the Unit felt patriotic, just terrifying. Terror was exactly what he had seen in the eyes of the prisoner…

***** He was sent in to prepare the prisoner for transport after the ice treatment. As he entered the white room he saw two agents dressed in the typical procedure decontamination suit drying off the prisoner. The prisoner was shivering between them, trying to curl up, as they roughly rubbed the towel on him. He moved towards them, the scrubs in hand. As soon as they were done he handed them the scrubs and they proceeded to dress the prisoner, which proved difficult in his curled up form. Afterwards they left taking the tub of icy water with them.

He continued to observe the prisoner who could not stop shaking. He squatted down by him seeing how cold he was and checking his pulse. The prisoner’s skin had a bluish tint to it and his eyes seemed unable to focus on anything; he was going into hypothermic shock. They needed to warm him up or he’d die. He signaled to one of the newer rookie agents who had followed him in there with the gurney. “Get a blanket and tea, coffee or hot water—just something hot. Now.”

The rookie instantly left following his orders. He turned back to the shivering prisoner, whose eyes remained downcast. He glanced back to the wall he knew had the one-way glass. He had better do what he was sent in there for; hopefully the prisoner could hold out until the other agent came back. He unhooked the cuffs he carried and proceeded to restrain the prisoner. He thought how unnecessary it seemed in light of their prisoner’s condition, but he was not to question orders. The prisoner did not struggle as the restraints were placed around his ankles, but as the agent moved to gather his wrists, he pushed further into the corner of the room. He tried to wrap his shivering arms around his thin weak body, but the agent easily overpowered him and bound his hands in front of him. By that time the rookie was back with the blanket, which the agent proceeded to wrap around the prisoner. The prisoner glanced at it questioningly, but said nothing. The agent then placed the hot tea in his shivering hands helping him move it to his quivering lips. “Drink” the agent commanded.

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

The agent remained silent, surprised at the gratitude and the fact the prisoner looked at him again. For the most part the prisoner would always stare at the floor in their presence. Though the pain and fear remained evident in his eyes, the sincerity of his broken, softly spoken words shone through too. *****

That look was what continued to haunt him—a look of innocence, even in the depths of great pain and despair. That wasn’t the look of a hardened killer. It didn’t seem to correlate to the numerous pictures of victims with silver handprints, nor the explosion of the army base. He seemed human in every way that counted, so shouldn’t he be granted the same rights?

His fingers stilled at this thought, ceasing its unending twirling of the card. One hand reached out to the phone nearby and dialed. After a few moments the line was picked up, “um… General… Lang?” He stopped speaking as soon as the voice replied, listening intently. He scribbled something down and then as he heard the click in his ear, hung up the phone. He glanced down at what he wrote; wondering what the message meant, but then moved on to the address—looks like he was going to an art show tomorrow.

jbcna- another new reader! thank you, I'm glad you like it! Especially since the angst will continue to come.

magikhands- heh heh this soon enough?

Scottie- Been wondering where you'd gone. Thanks once again for all the kind comments.

PART FIFTEEN

Five months after graduation
Albuquerque, New Mexico
University of New Mexico

Kyle was exhausted after practice today. It was odd, he never seemed to get so tired before, but it could just be the strain of the added stress of his new environment, classes and competition. His roommate wasn’t back yet, so he decided to crash for a bit. He collapsed onto his bed and soon entered a dark dream world.

He was surrounded by utter darkness. Even though it seemed to stretch out in all directions, he couldn’t help the strong feeling of suffocation. Was he having the nightmare where a person wakes up in a coffin? He tried to change the dream, wake up, something, but the darkness remained and the feeling of sheer panic took over. Though he knew this had to be a dream, the fear building within him would not stop. He tried all his methods to calm himself and finally he was able to concentrate past the overwhelming terror he felt. That’s when he heard it. “Somebody let me out. Please, let me out!” No, it couldn’t be. He almost called out his departed friend’s name, but muffled speaking made him stop. He strained to hear, but could not discern a word. He could hear heavy, fast gasps and the same voice continue to plead, “Please, let me out.” Kyle automatically moved forward to help, but found he couldn’t. That’s when he realized, he was extremely cold, and felt something tight around his limbs. Then things got worse. A sudden rush of wetness touched his body and the voice he heard began to scream, “Stop! Please, stop!” The muffled voice came back, but the sound of rushing water made it absolutely impossible to understand. Kyle struggled against whatever held him back, but nothing budged. He thought he heard choking sounds and in between, the words, “Please…let…me…out.”

That’s when he woke up, sweaty and gasping for breath.
_ _ _


The next day
UNM, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Maria’s dorm

“All right, what is it?” Maria asked with slight exasperation over Kyle’s constantly moving leg and avoidance of whatever issue was bothering him.

“I… what do you mean? I just came over to hang out as usual…” He trailed off as Maria slapped a hand on his leg ceasing its anxious motion.

“Kyle. This is me. Usually you want to go out somewhere, but we’re still here… and… what is troubling you so much? I have never seen you so agitated before, except…” She too trailed off, not wanting to mention her and ruin her (already increasingly testy) mood.

“Yeah, I know... it’s just, I’m not sure how to bring it up.” Kyle looked away.

“How’s this for an opening—tell me what happened.” She craned her neck so that she caught his eye again.

He snorted slightly, “I… can we go somewhere first? It’s one of those things… I think.”

“Sure, let me just get my coat.”

~ ~ ~

They had walked for a while in the nearby park. Just as Maria was wondering if Kyle was ever going to tell her what was wrong, he spoke. “Last night… I had a dream.” He took a deep breath, as the fear he felt during the dream rushed back.

“It was so dark and I felt like I couldn’t breathe too well… kind of like I woke up in a coffin.” They had stopped walking now, Kyle staring off as if he was in that dream again, while Maria watched him in concern.

“I was scared out of my mind and it was so weird because even when I tried to calm myself down and remind myself it was a dream, the fear wouldn’t subside, like it was its own force. But I think it actually wasn’t mine at all.” He suddenly turned to look Maria straight in the eyes, waiting for her realization of the implication.

She regarded him uncertainly, “What…what do you mean it wasn’t yours?”

“I heard a voice. He was so scared, begging someone to let him out of wherever he was. It was Max.”

“No.” She shook her head vehemently and took a step back.

“Maria…” Kyle reached out to stop her, but she moved further away.

“No! No, it was a dream. He’s dead! Don’t do this, Kyle… I can’t take it. I can’t.” She was literally at the edge of breaking down.

“But what if it wasn’t? What if…” Kyle looked so lost, trying to plead otherwise, but already faltering with doubt.

“Don’t say it! It’s been months, Kyle, months! It’s not possible.” She whispered out her last denial, a tear already escaping down her face.

Kyle wiped it away, “I’m sorry for upsetting you, it was just so real.”

Maria remained silent for a moment, composing herself. “I know. I wish things were different too… everyday.” Kyle draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. She sniffed, willing herself to not cry. Still holding on to each other, they turned back up the path towards the campus.

Hey alienmom, cherie, Scottie, LTL and magikhands! Thanks as always for the great feedback!

Wow!!! I knew Maria would probably cause some anger, but I never envisioned her being tag teamed! But in her defense it took a lot of convincing to ingrain in her the belief that Max is dead and so she's not going to believe or hope so easily of the opposite.

So yes you're right the investigation of Max's whereabouts among the Roswell gang is at a stand still for the moment.

i hope kyle continues to have dreams (eventhough i know it scares him) and he doesn't give up on investigating them.

You'll just have to see!

riveting psychological portraits of Michael and Max

I like the sound of that! Thanks LTL... even after all the feedback I still am so surprised that people like the story.

What possible "testing" involves putting him in a coffin like thing and drowning him or suffocating him?

I think this part should enlighten you.


BUT... before you read I just want to add a quick note. I realized when I first started writing this last year that since it's a Post Season 3 story I'd actually have to cover the horrible things that were introduced (particularly in SEASON 2... not that I'm bitter... much.) And so about Max and Tess... I'm one of those people who firmly believe he was mindwarped during Second Season... so I hope I don't step on anybody's creativity... below is just one of the scenarios my odd mind came up with.

Oh and as before, this is another part I'm not entirely sure I'm happy with how it's written, I just hope you'll be able to follow. So... italicized parts are present time and in the perspective of the agents, so sorry for all the 'its' used... even I caught myself slipping into he/his/Max when I wrote this.



PART SIXTEEN

A day later
In the depravation tank
(Some quotes taken from It’s Too Late, & It’s Too Bad)

“Max.”

He stiffened at the sound of her voice, startled and wary of yet another confrontation. He turned slowly trying to school his expression, “I thought you were going to Sweden.”

“I realized I was wrong. I… just wanted to know what happened to him so badly. I can’t believe that he killed himself. I’m sorry I took it out on you.”

“I understand. I’m sorry too. I’m glad you came back, that you’re safe. But really Liz, why are you here?” He was relieved that she was giving up on her quest; that she wasn’t running blindly into danger. But so much was said between them, so much had happened to pull them apart. He wondered why she would try to find him out so quickly.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

She looked at him in a way he hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. A look that made him feel he was the luckiest guy in the world; that told him she loved him; a look that would have made him feel complete if he didn’t feel so broken. His trust in her had wavered over the last few months and with their current rift it was hard for him to know what to feel and how to act around her. He wanted so much to keep her in his life, but she had to understand. “My whole life I’ve wanted to be this person, this normal person. Human. My whole life I’ve been thinking that this alien side of me was this bad thing. This thing that made me a freak. This monster. I realize that I haven’t just been hiding from the government and the law all this time. I’ve been hiding from myself. I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I thought I knew, but I don’t. I’ve lost everyone.” He turned back towards her taking in her morose face, “I’ve lost you.”

“No you haven’t.” She moved closer to him, lightly touching his hand and tilting her face towards his. “I’ll be here for eternity.”

He didn’t understand how things were able to progress so fast between them after everything, but this was what he had wanted so badly. He wanted her back. He wanted to be with her. He had forgiven her for being with Kyle. It still hurt, but not as much as it had when he thought he had completely lost her. When he thought their friendship was truly over. He needed her and gave in to his desire passionately. When the kiss ended he gazed into her eyes, barely noticing them flicker to blue before returning to their deep brown. “This has to be a dream.” He whispered out, his doubts at full force with the end of the spell the kiss had cast over him.

“I want you Max. I love you. I always have. Come with me. Trust me. It’s time for this to be more than a dream.” She smiled seductively at him. But then she faltered for a moment, slight concern emanating from her eyes, “Are you ready?”

He smiled down at her, while his heart leapt within his chest, unable to believe this was happening. However, the desire was too strong for him to question it verbally, “I’m ready to wake up now.” He leaned in to kiss her. This time it lasted longer, the force seemingly stronger. He never realized that the connection was nothing like it had been a year ago.

Having been alerted that the prisoner had finally calmed down Agent Felding and Agent Hammers entered the observation room to watch the instant feed from the depravation tank. They saw the prisoner seemingly asleep. Its eyes were closed, but its lips twitched slightly followed by its hands straining against the cuffs that held it tight. The electrodes attached to it alerted the agents to its increase in heart beat and temperature. They also noticed a concentration of heat below its waist.

Agent Hammers sneeringly commented, “My, my, I’m sure we all know what’s it's thinking about.” The others laughed quietly at that, their eyes still trained on their prisoner.

He let her lead him into the observatory, while he trailed kisses up her arm from her hand to shoulder. She smiled coyly, finally ending their journey in the center of the observatory. Though his mind felt muddled under his heightened emotions, he managed to glance around, aware that they were in a very public place, even deserted as it was. “Umm… Liz, are you sure about this? I mean I want this to be perfect. I want our first time to be perfect.” He didn’t mean to imply her first time with Kyle with that and was glad she did not seem to notice and take offense.

“It will be, because it’s us. A blanket is all we need. Do you trust me, Max?”

He didn’t even think, “Yes.”

“Come here then.” She gently brought him upon the blanket suddenly laid out on the floor.

They began kissing again, but something began to nag at Max. He abruptly moved away from her lips, “No, this is wrong.”

“How can it be? This is what we’ve both wanted for such a long time.”

“I…” his argument seemed to die in his throat at her assured gaze. He couldn’t even recall what it was that he had said. “Wait, I… I don’t have protection.”

“We don’t need it.”

That proclamation caused him to stop breathing for a moment. “Are… are you sure?”

She didn’t say anything and just pulled him closer for another kiss. They slowly began to undress each other, but as their shirts came off and the cool air touched his exposed skin, Max stiffened. The nagging in his mind was back, something did not feel right. Liz continued to kiss him, holding his hand, not noticing his rigid demeanor. He couldn’t seem to stop himself no matter how hard he tried, her kisses seemed intoxicating. His eyes remained closed, but suddenly images began to flash in his mind.

The images were abrupt and broken, like random shots. They were outside again, but instead of Liz, Tess came up to him. He heard her say, “I thought I’d find you here.” Oddly he saw himself remain motionless, continuing to stare up instead of turning to her as he had remembered—correction turning to Liz. Tess was never there.

The soft sound of splashing water was heard as the prisoner’s fingers drummed out a random beat. The agents peered curiously at this, unsure if its agitation was returning or if it was something else entirely—perhaps something extra-terrestrial.

She was suddenly closer stating she was there for eternity, her blue eyes staring sincerely at his lost, broken amber ones. He saw them kiss, her hair switching between brown and blonde. He was so confused, *what was happening?*, but before he could react, he heard himself say, “I’m ready to wake up now.” His voice sounded so dead.

His eyes flew open, finding his hands tangled in short blonde curls instead of long brown locks. He tore himself away from her, repulsed by the sight. “No!”

“Max what’s wrong?” He heard Liz’s voice, but all he saw was Tess.

“You’re not Liz. You’re not her.”

“What are you talking about, of course I am.”

He shook his head and pushed himself back trying to distance himself from her. “No,” he whispered out “you’re not Liz. This can’t be real. This is wrong.”

He made the mistake of looking away and before he realized, she was upon him again. His jumbled, hurt emotions and confused mind made him vulnerable and she was in control in a matter of seconds. He tried to fight it, but he wasn’t strong enough, or perhaps he was just tired of fighting. He remained still, while she explored his body. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what he knew was about to happen. Not that it mattered either way, by the night was over, she would have her version of the events planted in his memory.

The prisoner became increasingly agitated. Its fingers caused larger splashes in the water. Its head shook slightly in place, unable to move far with the metal band holding it down. Murmurs were heard from the prisoner and the agents increased the volume. They heard it whispering ‘no’ over and over. More tears flowed down the previously made tracks on its cheeks.

His movements were mechanical, but as the scene played out images of himself enjoying it immensely were interspersed. At times he saw himself smiling adoringly at Liz, other times the petite body would change to Tess’, but no reaction to the change registered on his face.

The scene shifted and he saw sunlight streaming through the observatory windows. He felt lightheaded but strangely at the same time, felt as if he had been heavily drugged. He couldn’t focus well on his surroundings, but he felt somebody lying at his side. The memories came slowly and his first thought was *Liz*. He bent down kissing her gently on the head. But he didn’t breathe in her familiar scent. Before he could say anything he felt something clamp down on his protests.

All he saw now was Tess. His memories of the night flooded his mind, a night of lustful passion with his ‘former wife’. He wanted to feel ill, but he found he couldn’t feel anything. His face was a mask hiding what he desperately wanted to show. He saw her stir and he plastered a smile on his face when she smiled at him. After they greeted each other she went back to sleep and he held her close so that she could not see the tears that stung at his eyes. He didn’t realize that his face remained frozen in its emotionless mask, the fake smile already fading. Inside though, he could feel again and all he could think is that it should have been Liz. But it was too late for that now.

At that thought his mind shifted to another time when he had felt completely broken. The room was the setting of his nightmares and the hell he lived in now. This memory though was when he had betrayed them all—he had given up the location of the orbs. He was terrified that they would continue to use the same threats to get everything else out of him. He knew he’d rather die first, but he was equally scared of how they would kill him and when. His torturer was back showing him the orbs, the satisfied smirk back on his face. But he wanted him to make the orbs work. He wouldn’t believe that he didn’t know how. He knew his end was coming when he heard the cold words, *let’s begin*. He gave up. He laid down bracing himself for the burning pain about to slice through his chest.

As the blade cut into his skin, his mind shifted again. This time it retreated farther back until he found himself in a palace. He laid upon silky sheets, fully clothed waiting for someone. The place felt familiar somehow but he did not have time to dwell on it. He heard crashing outside of the room and was immediately on his feet. His newlywed wife and childhood friend stepped into the room in panicked concern, “What’s happening, my love?”

“Stay back. I’ll handle it.” His hand glowed briefly in her direction placing an invisible energy shield to protect her. Satisfied, he turned to the door, the crashes sounding louder and closer with each passing moment. He strode towards it, ready to face whoever stood beyond the closed doors. But the doors opened before he reached them, instantly followed by a blast driven into his chest. He stumbled back, falling onto his knees and then struggled to get back up. “Kivar.” He called out to his enemy. The rumors of dissension among the planets had been true; they had joined forces with Kivar and were attempting to usurp him. He managed a few blasts towards Kivar, but the one in his chest continued to burn through, weakening him.

Kivar stooped by his knelt form, “So nice to see you Zan and already bowing in acceptance to my deserved position as king. Too bad you won’t be there for the coronation. It’ll be quite an affair with Vilandra and possibly Ava by my side.” He leered towards Ava, who now pounded against the shield desperate to get out and save her husband—her friend.

Rage flowed throughout his body and he raised his hand towards Kivar, “You will never lay a hand on them!” Unfortunately, Kivar was too fast and placed a burning hand upon his chest. He refused to scream, but the pain became unbearable. As he cried out in agony, Kivar just laughed, darting glances at a now wavering energy shield in front of a horrified Ava.

He felt his energy waning, his soul was departing as his body burned internally. Gathering what little strength he retained he uttered a promise, “Let fate show you the same kindness and loyalty you have shown me.” At his last word the end came and his body fell unceremoniously to the ground.

“What was that?” Agent Felding demanded the technician. Flustered, the technician clumsily programmed one of the screens to play back the last few minutes. After a few moments of protests, the prisoner had quieted and then…

“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 turned back to the instant feed and saw no change. The prisoner did not move. Its eyes remained closed. Saying more to himself he breathed, “What the hell was that?”

He turned to the technician, “Continue observation for two more hours. If there is no further response, get it out of there. Apparently it didn’t keep its promise.”

Sorry guys... but I think this will be the last post for awhile... (possibly 2-3 weeks), things are starting to get really hectic. Anyway glad you guys have been enjoying thus far and so I won't be evil and leave you with any real cliffhanger with this part...

(oh... I'll reply to feedback right after this)

PART SEVENTEEN

Six months after graduation
Canada
(Song (w/ a couple of alterations): See the Sun by Dido)

Today was the last official day of classes for the term. Having only two classes in the morning, Liz had the rest of the day to herself. She strolled around town, humming softly to herself, a feeling of happiness and peace that she hadn’t felt in a years emanating from her. This elation did not stem from her freedom of classes, but the promising vision she received early this morning.

I’m coming round to open the blinds
You can’t hide here any longer
My god you need to rinse those puffy eyes
You can’t lie still any longer
And yes they’ll ask you where you’ve been
And you’ll have to tell them again and again

A small part of her doubted it still, but as the rare sunny day remained and brightened the day the more she believed in it. Having concentrated on the images for hours she was sure she had seen her friends with her and Isabel here, celebrating together. She had also seen a large home, warm, inviting and safe. ‘Safe’ had been one of the many missing things in her life here, as doubt and haunting memories held her back from embracing her new life fully. Yet as each day passed and with each dream walk to her parents, Maria and Kyle, she slowly regained confidence that the danger may have passed.

And you probably don’t want to hear tomorrow’s another day
But I promise you you’ll see the sun again
And you’re asking me why pain’s the only way to happiness
And I promise you, you’ll see the sun again

She passed through the town’s market street, admiring the flowers as she breathed in their sweet scents. Spying the latest scrumptious offerings of fruit, she decided to buy some. Perhaps she could make some pie, probably not as good as the ones Maria’s mom had made for the Crash though. She had chosen a selection of the apples and pears on offer, but as she turned to the next stall she stopped cold. Even now the memories were so strong that the mere sight of the red aphrodisiacs could bring her to tears.

Come on take my hand
We’re going for a walk, I know you can
You can wear anything as long as it’s not black
Please don’t mourn forever he’s not coming back
And yes they’ll ask you where you’ve been
And you’ll have to tell them again and again

She wished she could have that time again, things would have occurred so differently. Nothing would have stopped her then, not his insecurities, not hers, not her parents’ disapproval and certainly not a so-called destiny. But that time had passed and even her visions were guiding her to move on. She needed to live, Max would have wanted that.

And you probably don’t want to hear tomorrow’s another day
But I promise you you’ll see the sun again
And you’re asking me why pain’s the only way to happiness
And I promise you, you’ll see the sun again

Even when things were rocky between them he had still wanted her to be happy. He wanted all of her dreams to come true… but the one she wanted most was to be with him.

Do you remember telling me you’d found the sweetest thing of all
You said one day of this was worth dying for
So be thankful you knew him at all
But it’s no more

She almost had it, they almost had it, but it had been cruelly taken away, he had been taken away. She pretended to push a stray hair aside as she brushed a tear away. He may not be physically there anymore, but he would always live on as long as they remembered him. Tonight was a night for embracing a true, new start and he would be there in spirit. She stepped forward to the vendor purchasing a basket of what would turn out to be the sweetest strawberries she’d ever taste; as well as a handful of blackberries.

And you probably don’t want to hear tomorrow’s another day
But I promise you you’ll see the sun again
And you’re asking me why pain’s the only way to happiness
And I promise you, you’ll see the sun again

~ ~ ~

The fruits had begun to weigh heavily on her arms, but she couldn’t leave this area just yet. Something seemed to draw her to this place, almost as if calling her. She walked slowly along the streets allowing the silent call to guide her way. The sense of its pull finally dissipated as she approached the driveway of a lovely house. The structure was not at first eye-catching, rather a simple quaint cottage style. As she pondered why she seemed to have been led here, the scarf in her hair had finally loosened its hold and in a sudden gust from the day’s breeze flew off toward the house’s steps. Placing her bags to the side she quickly went to retrieve it. As she stooped down to lift it she saw the most peculiar sight. Images flashed rapidly in her mind, alternating between an image of some blueprint and an actual house’s interior. The image of the interior seemed familiar to her, spacious, beautifully decorated and homey… that’s when it hit her—the vision. She was standing in the driveway of her new home. Excitement built within her, she could not wait to tell Isabel. As she turned to leave a car drove up to the house. A friendly woman of average height and curly chestnut hair stepped out, pulling a sign from her car. Smiling at Liz, she went to the small lawn area in the front and drove her sign into the ground—‘House for Sale’. Seeing her opportunity Liz expressed her interest in the house and was soon rewarded with a detailed information sheet, the price range and an appointment to view the house the following week.

*tiptoes in to post...*

Hey everyone! I'm back with a new part... but with that there's good news and bad news...

Ok well not really BAD news... it's just a little bit more waiting on your parts; since my beta has now been released from the horrible shackles of school she's helping me with the next few parts-- which I can promise you will be VERY LONG. But since it's so long it's going to take us a little while to go through it and decide how to split it up exactly (you'll see what I mean by that)... soooo in the mean time I'm going to leave you with a little teaser part.

So enjoy!! (and feedback will be in the post after this)

Oh... before I forget my connection acts up a bit where I am right now... so if I can't get on to post my beta, jabker will be posting for me for those future parts.


*Note: The format of this teaser part is slightly different since it doesn't follow one specific scene. Think of it kind of as... a montage of snippets.

PART EIGHTEEN

December 17, 2002
(Song- Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas)

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on our troubles will be out of sight,


“You were right, Liz. It’s perfect. How did you know?” Isabel breathed out as she took in the sight of their potential new home—not house, but home.

“I’ll tell you later.” She replied with a pointed look then went back to admiring the place. “Shall we make it final?”

“Yes. I can already see them here…I…we have to take it. You’re sure it’s safe enough?”

“Positive.” Liz smiled at her sister, for once in a long time she felt confident and secure in her decision. She signaled to the realtor who came forward, forms in hand.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
From now on our troubles will be miles away,

Kyle parked the car in front of his home, smiling at the sight. After his long drive he was ready to reacquaint himself with his comfy bed. Before he could step out of the car though, his dad was already out the door. Just as he was enveloped in his father’s hug, he saw that Ms. Deluca and Maria were standing in the doorway, waving and smiling at him. After the initial surprise of seeing them over, he smiled and waved back. It looked like his nap would have to wait a little longer.

Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore,
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more,

A suited man with scarce graying hair entered an empty room to speak on his cell phone in private. “Yes Honey, I’ll be home tomorrow. There’s just one more thing I have to do tonight, then I can take leave for Christmas.” He nodded a few times, “Yes, I’ll remember to pick up the gifts. Don’t worry; everything will be taken care of.” He smiled, “I can’t wait to see you either. Love you, bye.” Ending the call, he quickly returned to the observation room. He addressed the men there, “Prepare the prisoner. We’ll be starting shortly.”

Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

*incoherent grumbling about internet connection*

Sorry guys... this should have been posted earlier. But yes... I won't start ranting about that here, on with the story and I'll reply to feedback soon-- I see there's a lot for me to read!

PART NINETEEN

December 18, 2002
2:15 a.m. MT

Kyle smiled as he stretched out on his bed. He was dead tired, but the company made it worth staying up. Even after they left just two hours ago, he and his dad still stayed up catching up on news and some football. He sighed; it sure was good to be home. Christmas was almost there and for once he thought he could actually look forward to something. It had been two months since that disturbing dream and he was still ‘green’-free. Maybe it was more than just being healed that caused the powers to manifest in Liz. Either way, he finally felt there was a chance for life to return back to normal, where he could be carefree. As his eyes closed, his face remained smiling, but soon twisted into an expression of horror.

He was in a room…of white tiles. No, not again. Why did he keep dreaming this? He pounded against the wall he faced hoping he could snap out of this dream. But nothing happened, hell, he didn’t even hear the sound of his fist impacting with the wall. What he did hear though was the sound of clicking and scratching. He slowly turned around, “Holy crap!” He clamped a hand on his mouth, but it made no difference. The men ignored him and went about their task. Kyle held his breath as he stepped closer to the center of the room. He saw a machine with metal wires marking lines back and forth on paper, probably brain wave patterns. On the opposite side was another machine, this one with a dial, buttons and a screen for a heart rate monitor. Between these two machines was someone he never thought he would see again—Max. He looked so real, so alive, but his eyes were focused on the machine with the dial. The men around Max placed electrodes on his chest and the heart rate monitor lit up emitting beeps every few seconds. On other various points of Max’s chest, arms, head and…*oh my god* Kyle froze; staring at what he hoped was not what it looked like. He began to chant, ‘Max is dead, he’s not really here; I’m not really here’, over and over. But he still remained in the room. He could not tear his eyes away from his dead friend’s naked lower body, wondering how his imagination could be so twisted and so vivid. Until, that is, he heard one of the men speak. “Let’s begin.” Kyle looked up in horror at the man who began to slowly turn up the dial. Kyle’s gaze snapped back to Max, this time at his face and saw his eyes widen in surprise for a moment before shutting in pain. As Kyle woke from the dream he thought he heard Max scream out his name.

3:31am MT

This time Kyle didn’t bother trying to calm down. There was no denying this dream. This was real, because how could his subconscious come up with all that? He’d never learned what happened to Max in there and those machines weren’t something Kyle had seen before. He only guessed what they were, but for some reason while in the dream, he actually seemed to know their function and that knowledge had filled him with dread. As Kyle tried to remember details of the dream so he could tell his father, the sight that had shocked him to the core finally hit him. He suddenly felt very sick.

He ran to the bathroom and slammed the door, not even bothering to worry about waking his father and retched into the toilet. As he washed up, he heard a light knock on the door. “Kyle, you all right?”

Kyle just stared into the mirror, looking for something, anything to confirm what he knew must be true—he was turning into one of them. Yet, he could not see a green light in sight. “Kyle?” He heard his father ask again.

“Be right out.” Kyle took one last look in the mirror—nothing. He frowned, wondering how he could not have developed powers yet. These dreams couldn’t just be a horrific figment of his imagination, they were just too real. Kyle frustrated and deep in thought came out prepared to just shrug off his father’s concern for now so he could think of what to tell him in the morning. Stepping out of the bathroom he heard his father begin, “Son, what happened? Another—”

“No, it was probably something I ate,” Kyle interjected waving his hand towards his father as he walked back to his room. He glanced at the hall clock, only 3:40. Had he only slept for a little less than two hours? “I’m just going to try and sleep it off.” Expecting a reply, Kyle found it odd that he was met with silence. He turned back to his father and for the second time that night was met with a shocking sight. His father, mouth still open, stood like a statue.

Kyle stepped closer, “Dad?” He held his hand in front of him, slowly moving it up and down—nothing. He then tried shaking his dad by the shoulders—still nothing. Starting to panic, the significance of this didn’t even register in his mind. He frantically looked around for a way to fix this, his eyes settled on the phone—“Maria! Call Maria.” He quickly began to dial.

After a few rings a sleepy voice finally came on, “this had better be good Valenti. It’s 3:43 in the morning!”

“It’s my dad, I… I froze him or something. I don’t know how… one second I’m dreaming about Max, next I’m throwing up and then my dad is playing statue!” As he ranted into the phone, Kyle’s free hand began to wave frantically in the direction of his father.

“—dream?” His father turned to stare at him oddly.

“Kyle? How did you get on the phone so fast? And who are you calling at this hour?”

“Uh…I’ll call you back. I think he’s come out of it.” Kyle hung up the phone still looking at his dad as if he were a ghost.

“Well son? I’m waiting for an answer. What’s going on?”

“Did you…I mean…are you…do you not remember what just happened?”

“Remember what? First I hear you rushing into the toilet and then I see you coming out, but the next second you’re suddenly behind me on the phone?!”

Kyle shook his head. How? Could he actually freeze time? Or maybe just people…He turned to his father, “Dad, we need to talk. But I think we should get some coffee first, this may take awhile.” Awhile was guaranteed, especially when it came to such unchartered territory as alien powers. His dad nodded and headed to the kitchen. As Kyle moved to follow, he glanced once again at the hall clock. 3:41a.m. What the? Didn’t Maria say 3:43…a couple of minutes back? Was hers set a little faster? He’d have to ask her later—just to be sure. Then he remembered his alarm clock was the same time as the hall clock. He ran to his room and brought it out. On his clock the numbers 3:46 glowed back. On the hallway clock, the hands pointed to 3:42.

magikhands- Well I won't deny you guys any longer so here it is... and I'll try and get the part after this out soon, hopefully before your move...

Once again many thanks to Michelle for betaing this part!!

*Note: The timing is a bit confusing since the part switches between two places. So for the first two sections with Liz and Isabel they occur before Part Nineteen did. After that everything is pretty much around the same time.

PART TWENTY

Hours earlier
Canada

“Whew, we got through a lot of packing. I think it’s time we called it a night.” Liz commented as she wiped her brow.

“Go ahead. I’m still too wired to sleep just yet; I might as well pack some more. I can’t wait to move in there.” Isabel replied, excitement dancing from her eyes, especially at the thought of decorating and organizing a new home.

Liz laughed, knowing all too well how and why Isabel was so excited. “All right, goodnight then.” She headed off to her room and after a quick shower; she snuggled under the warm covers ready for a deep, restful sleep. As she drifted off her hand settled lightly upon her stomach—just like it had when her stomach had once been graced with silver.

She saw a laboratory where various scientists were working and looking through microscopes. In the center she saw one talking to a general, smiles on both their faces. The scene suddenly changed and she found herself staring at a bare chest. She slowly glanced up and saw a face, familiar to her dream world now… “Max” she breathed out, reaching a hand out to caress his face, but it remained unseeing, unmoving. Before she could touch him, the scene changed again, and suddenly she was surrounded by men in army fatigues, lined up at attention… men that all resembled…Max. That’s when she woke up gasping in shock.

This had been no wistful dream of hers, this felt like the visions she had received many times before. But instead of the happiness that filled her at the last vision of her, her friends—her family together in the new home, this filled her with fear. Even more so than when she saw them all get killed before graduation… this was something she did not fully understand. She scribbled down the details she could remember quickly, before she could forget anything. As soon as she was done, she went out to tell Isabel. As she passed through her door, she ran right into Isabel.

“Liz, is everything ok?” Isabel asked, arms held out to steady her.

“I…I had another vision. Um… I don’t know what it was exactly or even when… or even how it’s possible…” She babbled on, trailing off as her mind sped on trying to figure out what she saw.

“Liz! Tell me, what did you see?” Isabel’s stern voice commanded ending her incessant babble.

“It was like out of some bad Star Wars movie… I saw an army… of Max. And before that, I saw this government laboratory, at least I assume it was, because a general was there talking with one of the scientists and then I saw Max… after that I saw the army…” She trailed off, starting to feel a little silly saying this, but deeper down where her fear still was rampant she believed it was a vision. Fortunately, Isabel did not discount it so easily.

“An army… of Max clones? I mean, if they could make us, I guess it’s possible… but how? Nasedo destroyed everything they took from him the first time and after… he was buried. They couldn’t have gotten to his body…” She started to become upset as the memories of graduation were drudged up.

Liz placed a comforting hand on her arm, but her voice and gaze held steady, “Maybe Nasedo lied about that too.”

Isabel’s eyes widened at that very possible explanation, “But why now?”

Why wait until now to create clones of Max? Liz’s mind spun with the possible reasons, for a lot of factors could have played into it— technology, financial backing and authorization; but she couldn’t be sure of anything, “I don’t know.”

~ ~ ~

Valenti Home
4 am MT

As his father poured the cups of coffee for them, Kyle continued to just stare at his hand. He had powers. Even with the warning he still couldn’t quite fathom it. Powers. He could finally do all the crazy stuff the others were able to do. But now that he had it, he suddenly understood just why none of the three aliens ever had pure fun with their powers, at least without prodding. It was scary to be able to wield this power. With one wave he stopped time. He. Stopped. Time. He had accomplished the impossible!

As his father took a seat rapid knocking was suddenly heard. Kyle stared blankly toward the door while his dad quickly went to see who it was. Before he could say hello, a whirlwind of blonde strode in, “All right. Spill Valenti. What is this about freezing your dad, and your dream? You said you would not talk about that again!”

Instead of replying, Kyle jerkily waved his hand in Maria’s direction. Nothing happened. Why couldn’t it work when he wanted to? He sighed and tried again.

“What are you doing?” Maria’s ire had reached its limit and she was practically shrieking now.

Jim Valenti, who after closing the door and muttering, “come on in,” watched in confused fascination at the scene unfolding in front of him. However, at Maria’s unleashing anger and tense stance he decided to defuse the situation. Taking her by the shoulders he gently pushed her to a chair and poured her a cup of coffee. While doing so he turned to Kyle, “I’d actually like to know the same thing. What is going on Kyle?”

They stared at him waiting for a reply, but he suddenly felt at a loss of where to begin. “I…” he began to trace random patterns on his cup, “remember the dreams I mentioned to you guys before?”

In unison they blurted out, “Dreams?”

Maria continued, “You had more than one?”

“Yeah. The week before college started, that day when we went to visit…” He had started looking at her as he spoke but quickly averted his gaze downward at the mention of that day. “I told my dad about that one. I didn’t tell him about the one I told you. But now I have to tell you both about tonight’s. There is no way either of you can convince me this was just a dream. Not with what happened after.”

“Yeah, what happened after?” Maria asked. Jim remained silent, carefully listening.

“I stopped…time.”

No one spoke for an entire minute. The ticking from the hallway clock was heard as two people sat in shock, while the other returned to staring at his hand.

“Umm… care to run that by us again?” Maria broke the silence.

“I waved my hand towards my dad and he froze—mid-sentence. When I called you I guess I was waving at him again or something because he broke out of it but had no idea how I managed to get around him and talk to you. After I hung up I saw the time and… Well, my alarm clock and the hallway clock were set at the same time. However, after all that, it’s now four minutes behind.”

“Maybe the battery is running out.”

“No! Look will you just listen to me this time? A life could be at stake here. Actually two, because this could mean I’ve finally turned too.”

Maria’s eyes began to mist up. It had taken her so long to accept the fact that Max was gone and now Kyle was telling her they might have been wrong all this time… she just didn’t want to go through it all again. In her emotional state her words came out harsher than she intended, “Prove it.”

“I don’t know how.” Kyle blinked a little hurt and taken aback at Maria’s reaction. His dad, who had remained quiet this entire time, placed a hand on his arm to get his attention.

“See if you can contact Isabel.”

~ ~ ~

Canada
An hour later

Isabel growled out in frustration. “I still can’t reach them. I think they might still be awake.”

Liz had been pacing the room, after her vision, neither of them could sleep and had been trying to contact the others back home. However, it seemed tonight was the night to stay up. She glanced over at Isabel seeing the strain of the dream walks taking their toll on her. “They are a few hours behind us; they might be out at dinner or something. Why don’t you try and sleep, we can always try again tomorrow. It’s not like they can do anything about it anyway.”

“Liz….”

“It’s fine. I don’t even know what to think about it… It may be a good idea for us to just sleep on it.”

Isabel nodded, too tired to argue.

~ ~ ~

Valenti Home
4:15am MT
(Slight excerpt from Significant Others)

Kyle still wary of this took deep breaths to center himself. When he was calm enough, he closed his eyes focusing on Isabel. Without realizing it he began to whisper her name…*Isabel*.

He heard his voice echo all around him. The edges of wherever he was had a mystical quality to them, soft clouds bordering them. He slowly walked around and then he heard it. Her throaty laugh with the slight lilt to it. He called out to her again and his surroundings suddenly took form. He found himself in an empty theater, a couple sitting near the front. He cautiously stepped down the aisle and stopped short when he saw that the couple was Isabel and Jesse.

“I just love old movies, you know?” He heard her sigh as she snuggled further into the arms of her husband.

“Yeah, where we all get to live happily ever after.” He heard Jesse answer her, leaning closer for a lingering kiss.

“Soon.” She whispered to him a tear starting to form at the edge of her eye.

Kyle was at a loss of what to do. He had somehow entered Isabel’s dream walk of Jesse and neither of them had realized he was there. As things became more intense between the couple he became increasingly uncomfortable and was wondering just how to break out of there. Suddenly, he heard Isabel say his name.

“Kyle?” Jesse echoed, not realizing she had actually seen Kyle and was calling out to him in surprise.

“Umm… Jesse I have to go now, I promise we’ll continue tomorrow night. I love you. She quickly pecked him on the cheek and seconds later his form faded away.

“Whoa, how did you do that?” Kyle asked in awe.

“Actually I think the question should be how are you here?” Isabel countered.

“That’s the exact reason why I’m here. I got my powers.”

~ ~ ~

Outside of the dreamscape, Jim and Maria were watching Kyle intently. At first he had started out whispering to himself, but now he remained silent. He had been like this for at least ten minutes and it worried them greatly. What if he got lost in his mind somewhere?

Then suddenly he opened his eyes, gasping slightly.

“Are you all right?” Jim asked his son as Maria hung back still a little scared about tonight’s events.

“Yeah… I… got through. She told me to try again in half an hour, with you guys with me.”

“What? Is that possible?”

“Yeah, she told me how… but in the meantime there are still some things we need to discuss.” Kyle wearily leaned back in his chair. Unable to shift into a more comfortable position, he grimaced.

“Right.” His father softly responded. With a light touch to his arm, his father gestured for them to move to the living room, where Kyle could have a greater chance of resting in the comforts of their couch. They all stood up and settled back onto the cushioned seats in the living room. Maria sat tensely, clasping and unclasping her hands, Kyle stared out blankly, while Jim watched the two in concern.

“I’m a little afraid to tell you what I saw.” Kyle meekly spoke. The sick image of the torture kept flashing in his mind and he felt queasy all over again.

“Just take it slow. If it gets too much we’ll stop,” his father reassured him.

Kyle nodded back, smiling gratefully at him for a moment then dropping back into a serious expression. He cleared his throat. “I was back in the white room, I was facing one of the walls and I heard this clicking, scratching type noise. So I turned around and I saw… Max.” He spoke slowly, deliberately as if he was forcing each word out of himself, slowly reliving the ‘nightmare’ walk. As he said Max’s name he heard Maria let out a quiet sob. He glanced over at her, but she was looking down at her lap. His dad told him to continue.

“He was strapped down on a table… naked.” He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself to the image he was about to relate to his dad and Maria. Especially after hearing her gasp at what he just said. Even his dad turned in astonishment. “They had him hooked up to these machines, one was to measure brain waves and the other...” his voice faltered, this was getting too hard. “And the other had a heart-rate monitor and…” he bit his lip; his leg was jumping up and down like crazy in his anxiety.

“What? What did it have?” Maria finally managed to spit out, though her voice was low and trembling in its tautness, as if she were bracing herself for what she was about to hear.

“Dials. And these wires with electrodes to… that were… attached to his body.”

“Did they… electrocute him, son?” his dad asked as gently as he could, tears already forming in his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah they did. Just before I woke up, they started.” He couldn’t do this any longer; he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake under his emotions. Suddenly he felt warm arms around him and moving his hands away slightly he realized that Maria and his dad had moved over and had enveloped him in a group hug. A sad smile graced his face as he tried to stop his tears, then he whispered, “I think he saw me.”

Maria moved away slightly to face him, “What? How…?”

“I heard him say my name, he looked at me in there…” he downplayed it slightly, not wanting to upset her further.

She remained silent, her face contorting between expressions of disbelief, sorrow and anger and possibly hope. Somehow under all those emotions she managed to ask, “Does that mean you’re going to try and contact him?”

“I don’t know… I mean I never controlled it when it happened, I don’t know if I can.”

“You can. You were able to reach Isabel. You can reach him.” his father encouraged him, instilling confidence that he still could not truly believe in.

He glanced at the clock; they still had ten minutes before he was supposed to contact Isabel. “Should I try now?”

Maria stared at him wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted in shock. His father just held his gaze and nodded.

He let out another steadying breath, “Ok.” He adjusted into a more comfortable position, closed his eyes and began to whisper Max’s name, trying to ignore the soft cries coming from Maria.

Darkness was all he saw, but he couldn’t give up yet. He was calm, he was in control; he could do this. He tried to believe he could and concentrated harder trying to bring all his memories of Max to mind. When he came upon the memory of seeing Max move his healing hand from his own chest all those years ago in the UFO Center he made the connection; or so he thought.

He saw a flash of white, he could feel another presence there with him—it had to be Max. He tried to shout out, but instantly he felt himself being physically pushed away. Next thing he knew he was blinking back on the image of his living room. He had failed.

Maria and his father watched him intently, not daring to speak. He looked at each of them then shook his head focusing on the rug under the table.

“It’s ok,” Maria said at the same time his father said, “Give it time, you’ll get in.” He didn’t know what to think, should he just give up? Was it already too late? Should he even tell Isabel and Liz that Max might have been alive until tonight? That yet again they were too late to save him? Or was Max just unconscious? Or did he realize he was in his head and consciously pushed him out of it? But then if he did, why would he? Didn’t he want to get out of that hellhole?

He must have zoned out for a few minutes because the next thing he knew his dad was telling him to just rest a bit and offering him a drink of water, before he attempted to contact Isabel again.

~ ~ ~

Canada

“This can’t be good. I can’t even sense him anymore.” Isabel whispered in panic.

“I know your range has increased over the years, but perhaps he had to go somewhere farther and that’s blocking it for you?” Liz suggested earnestly, trying to calm Isabel.

“I guess… but still, what if something happened to him? What if we were wrong Liz, what if it’s still not safe?”

“No. It has to be. I wouldn’t have seen that vision if it wasn’t true. Look lets just meet with the others and it will all end up falling into place. It has to. Everything will be ok,” she tried to assure Isabel as well as herself.

“Ok.” Isabel glanced at the clock. “Ten minutes, we should get ready, Kyle will be trying soon.”

~ ~ ~

On the Road

Michael zoomed down the road, once again running for his life. Ever since he got that message in his pocket, he had been on alert—that is more so than usual. He hadn’t realized until that day just how much of his guard he had let down. Settling down in Seattle and meeting that agent had calmed his fears somewhat, but he had been wrong.

He zipped past several rest stops refusing to allow himself rest. He needed to get as far away from Seattle as fast as possible. The two months it took to leave without garnering extra attention was excessive enough, but a necessary evil. His agent had been devastated that he wanted to leave the state and was not planning on pursuing his art career further. But fortunately she did not push him to confide in her the reason of his sudden departure. She was just glad that he agreed to sell his collection. He finally chose the highest bidder from the group of art connoisseurs that desired the entire collection. Obviously some multi-millionaire, who wanted yet another art inspired party conversation. As long as the paintings stayed together, he would learn to deal. There were moments he wished it could have been possible for him to bring them along, even just one of them. But he had to travel light.

It was almost as if nothing had changed from six months ago, the bag on his back holding his only belongings; however, this time he did bring his Metallica collection—all two CDs. Also, his fear had a new driving force. Over the past two months he constantly muddled over the message, wondering who it was that gave it to him. Long live the King, it said. Who but other aliens would know that Max was King? And why did it say long live the king? Were they implying he was still alive, because that was impossible. Isabel told him that she failed in contacting him. He had felt the severing of the connection, or at least he found out that was why he got temporarily light headed while driving. It couldn’t be possible. But a little part of him doubted that. It was the part that didn’t want to believe the news article, Isabel or Liz. And that was why he followed the second part of the message. What you seek is on the other side, where the sun begins. It had to mean go East, though he had to shake his head at its corniness. It reminded him way too much of those mystical, hidden messages like in Star Wars. He just hoped that somehow he could find his way to Isabel and Liz. But that would be after he was pretty sure he wasn’t being tailed. At that thought he glanced back and pressed harder on the accelerator.

But he was going too fast already. In the dark he did not see the carelessly thrown can on the road. Only after the collision did the motorcycle’s beam illuminate the crushed cylinder in front of Michael’s sprawled body. It was the last sight he saw before he closed his eyes.

A BIG 'Thank You' to Michelle for betaing this part as well!

Timelord31- Thanks for posting here again (just letting you know it's all updated on the DAS board again if you'd like to post there again). On your theory... well whether or not it's right will become clearer as the story progresses!

SweetnSpicyCandy- You've returned to the story! Nice to see your comments again and yes I actually post on two other sites already-- DAS and Memories (which I only recently started so is a little behind here)... so I'm not sure if I could manage another site at the moment.

cherie- I'm here!!

And away we go...

PART TWENTY-ONE

Roswell

After Kyle had composed himself, all three of them had once again moved to the kitchen. They sat around, just an arm’s distance apart between each person. “Ok, before we do this, I just want to prepare you for it. It’s a bit disorienting at first, and well I’m basically trying to create a mental link between us, or I guess just pull you into my mind, so when that happens, just stay with me and don’t go wandering around… please,” Kyle began, turning to look at Maria as he laid out the ‘rules’.

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, “Ditto.”

Kyle ignored her comment, relieved that her highly strung emotions were starting to defuse, somewhat. He continued, “Also, Maria, I think Michael might be there…”

“Well, duh, he needs to know too. Why wouldn’t he be?” she interrupted defensively.

Kyle just held his hands up innocently, “Just wanted to make sure there were no real surprises, that way we don’t lose anyone from the connection. So like I said, I’m going to try and dream walk Isabel and once I get in, I’m going to reach out to you two, so be ready. Just try and keep your minds blank and keep breathing.” Again he looked at Maria.

She glared at him, annoyed, but said nothing this time. Instead his father spoke, “So how much are we telling them?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to decide. I mean… what should I say? I hardly know any more than before!”

His father violently gripped his hand. “Yes you do. Even with the possibility that it may be too late, I will not allow them to have his body if I can help it. Anytime before tonight I would have told you not to give those kids false hope, but now, they deserve to know the whole truth, even if the end result may be the same.”

Kyle and Maria stayed silent at this, trying to keep their emotions in check. Maria tentatively reached out to hold his hand. He turned to look over to her and they shared a small smile between them—hers as a sign of support, and his in gratitude. Kyle then glanced at the clock, it was time. He had planned to hold their hands to help him bring them into the dream walk only after he connected with Isabel, but not wanting to let go of their already linked hands, he closed his eyes instead. “Here we go,” he breathed, followed by his whispered calling of *Isabel*.

The connection formed quicker this time and soon all three of them found themselves surrounded by the mystical clouds. They remained quiet taking in their surroundings and trying to orient themselves in this new scene, but the scene quickly shifted.

Suddenly, they were at the quarry. “Hey guys, hope this is ok, it just seemed fitting.”

They all turned their heads sharply in the direction of the voice and were met with a most welcome sight—Isabel and Liz. Maria immediately shrieked in happiness and ran to her best friend, calling out, “Liz!” The two hugged tightly, while Isabel was embraced by the Valenti men.

“Where’s Michael?” Kyle asked.

“I haven’t been able to get him, I think he’s still awake doing something, he’s not letting me in. I’m still trying though.” she explained, not wanting to worry the others about what she feared.

“So should we wait?”

“No, we can discuss your news first and help you with that in the meantime. Hopefully he’ll be here when we get on to our news.”

“Good I hope?” Jim Valenti asked warily.

“A little hard to say,” replied Liz as she walked up to them and moved to hug the two men.

“A vision?” Maria asked as she joined them.

“Yeah. But first, how are you holding up?” Liz asked Kyle, remembering how scary it was when she first got her powers.

“Kind of still in the shock phase, but I think I’ve passed denial by now.” he half joked. The others smiled slightly at this, glad that the powers had not diminished his sarcastic disposition.

“Does it still hurt?” Liz asked quietly, trying to not dwell in the negative memories the green electricity had given her.

“Actually it hasn’t ever.”

“Then how did you find out?”

“Well I first suspected it when I got these… weird dreams,” he didn’t know why he didn’t just come out and say it but he was still afraid to mention Max to them. “But tonight, I knew for sure when I… umm… froze my dad.” He ended up mumbling the last part.

Isabel not quite catching his last statement leaned closer, “What was that?”

He looked up straight into her hazel eyes, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. After clearing it, “I froze him. I think I can freeze time.”

She stepped back, “Whoa.” She shook her head, the powers that Kyle and Liz had achieved were far beyond her own capabilities… or were they? She had to admit they had never tried to experiment much with their powers. They just played around with the ones that manifested themselves and maybe those were just their base strengths; maybe they were all able to do the various powers. She’d have to look into that later on.

“Yeah that was kind of my reaction too. I still can’t wrap my mind around it, but I saw it. My dad was just standing there, mouth open. He didn’t remember anything that happened around him while he was frozen,” Kyle explained.

Liz began to muse out loud, “It’s like a pattern.”

“What do you mean?” Maria asked.

“Both Kyle and I received unique abilities to control time in some sense, for me it’s seeing into the future, for him it’s actually stopping it. Also, obviously Kyle got Isabel’s dream walking power and I think I got Michael’s blasting one.”

“So you’re saying that whoever gets healed gets one of their powers and something involved with time?” Maria questioned.

“Possibly.” Liz bit her lip as she considered the implications of that—all those children…

“Don’t worry. After you got your powers, Max started thinking that it might occur in those kids, so he asked me to dream walk them. They were all fine, healthy, normal kids. No green. Either the age factor or the fact he healed them of cancer might have played a factor.”

“Ok… so basically if you’re healed from a gun shot wound…” Maria trailed off as she took in Kyle’s widened expression. “What?”

He had swung his gaze to his father, who after a beat realized what Kyle was thinking. “Me? But I…” Valenti broke off in surprise.

“Why not? Granted you were healed a lot later than both Kyle and me, so you probably won’t have to worry about it manifesting until much later, but it seems pretty likely,” Liz commented.

Though he had been through a lot along with these kids, this latest shock was something he just wasn’t prepared for. He shook his head, scratching it lightly with a look of consternation on his face.

Isabel walked up to him laying a comforting hand on his arm. When he turned to look at her, “Don’t worry. If and when it happens we’ll help you through it. Liz and Kyle are ok. You will be too.”

“I know. Thank you.” He held her close, smiling. It sure was good to see his ‘kids’.

“So how much have you experimented with your powers, Kyle?” Liz asked.

“I… not too much, this is the most I’ve done intentionally,” he said as he glanced around the dreamscape. “But there’s something I need to tell you guys… I don’t know how to really put this, but—”

During this Isabel’s eyes had glazed over slightly, “He’s here,” she whispered as Kyle spoke, but it was Maria’s scream that interrupted him.

“Oh my God, Michael!” After a moment they were all crowded around him.

Michael was sitting in absolute confusion. He blinked slightly, how did he get in here? This night was getting weirder and weirder for him. First he had found himself on the side of the road out of harm’s way and after healing himself he just laid down to rest for a few moments and now he was back in Roswell?

“You had me worried sick!” Isabel admonished, “I’ve been trying you for hours. Where have you been?”

With that it finally dawned on Michael, he was still asleep—Isabel had just dream walked him, but why had he heard Maria’s voice? That’s when he felt a hand on his head. He looked up and saw her. She still looked so beautiful and all he could do was stare at her.

“You ok, Spaceboy?” she asked gently.

“Yeah.” he breathed out; surprised she wasn’t chewing him out for the way he left her. Perhaps all that time apart had mellowed her anger. But once again he was wrong.

“Good!” She slapped him hard on his arm which was still relatively sore due to his somewhat lacking healing talent. “That’s for just leaving me like that after all you said. You don’t just do that to a person. You let them have their say! You—” She was starting to huff, but she stopped when she noticed Michael wincing in far more pain then she believed her slap would have given him. “What’s wrong, what happened?” she asked, immediately concerned.

“I kind of got into an accident. I’m fine now, just a little sore. I wasn’t able to heal myself completely, it’s been awhile and plus I’m kind of tired,” he mumbled out. He must be since he felt he could fall asleep in this dream walk.

“Accident?” Isabel repeated her voice a notch higher. “I knew something bad happened.” she murmured to herself. “How?”

“I was driving and I hit a can head on and well at my speed I just went over. I’m fine, really. That’s not what we need to worry about.” he said pointedly as he took Jim’s offered help to get up. He wavered on his feet for a moment, but managed to stay up.

“Would that be the reason why you were driving at such a dangerous speed?” Liz asked quietly behind him. He turned around startled, but nodded.

“Two months ago I got this really odd message in my pocket. I thought it might have been a set up by the FBI at first, but the more I thought about it, the less that seemed likely. It said, “Long live the King”, who but an alien would know to say that? The thing is I don’t understand why they would write that about Max now… it’s just…” he trailed off, his grief and guilt overwhelming him again.

The others remained quiet at this, lost in their thoughts about Max. Kyle was struggling to somehow get the news across to the others about the dreams, while his father watched him, wondering if he should offer to tell them instead.

Maria broke the silence her mind on a completely different tangent, “What if it meant you, Michael? Remember Courtney?” She raised her eyebrow as she said the girl’s name, another blonde alien she would never learn to like, despite her help and sacrifice.

“She’s dead, Maria.”

“Yeah, but she said there were others just like her, who believe you should be king. What if they’ve regrouped and they want their leader now?” She asked the last part a little hysterically, a few moments in his presence and already she felt like she was going to lose him again.

He immediately wrapped her in his arms, “Hey, I’m not ever going to go for that.” he then whispered, just for her to hear, “If there’s a chance that I can come back, I will not leave you. Never again.”

Tears began to roll down her eyes and she held on to him tighter. She never wanted this dream walk to end.

~ ~ ~

Valenti Home

The house was silent except for the ticking in the hallway. The three occupants remained holding hands, nothing around to disturb them. That is until an isolated thunderstorm tore across the sky. The sky flashed brightly, unnoticed by the three in the kitchen, but the thunder would not be denied. Their eyes flew open in shock and Kyle shouted out, “Wait!”

When he focused back on to his home, his face fell. He never got a chance to tell them. And he felt exhausted. He probably wouldn’t be able to do that again for a while. His shoulder slumped further; things were getting more and more bleak.

Next to him Maria wiped slowly at her tears and proceeded to hug herself. She could still feel Michael’s strong arms around her, his whispered heartfelt words still ringing in her ears, “Never again.” She hoped that would be soon.

Jim watched them again, feeling utterly useless. He couldn’t help them with their pain, he had no powers to help the situation and no means but waiting for the dream walks to contact the others. Beyond this room no one knew that Max still lived and he had no idea where to start finding him. He knew he had to do something, but he was at a loss of what and how.

~ ~ ~

Dreamscape

“Where did they go?” Liz asked as she walked in a small circle looking for her friends. Michael beside her stood frozen, his arms now embracing just air.

“Kyle must have tired out or lost the connection,” Isabel rationalized. “We didn’t even get to tell them about your vision.”

“I know,” Liz replied miserably.

Michael seemed to break out of his spell at that point. “Wait, what vision?”

“I saw this government laboratory where a general and one of the scientists were smiling at something, then I saw… Max. He was so still, and his chest was bare. Then it switched to an entire army… of him, all standing at attention.”

“What? But how?” Michael sputtered in shock.

“We’re clones Michael. It’s not too far of a stretch that they could do it too, especially if Nasedo lied to us about that too.” Her voice hardened as she was reminded yet again of their treacherous ‘protector’.

“Lied about…” he halted his question as he realized what Isabel was referring to—destroying the evidence the FBI had on Max. “Shit.” He gritted out.

“We have to tell the others.” He spoke after several moments of silence.

“We were planning to, but they left before we got around to it” Isabel replied irritated.

Always the mediator, Liz calmly spoke, “It’s ok, like I said, there’s not much we can do about it now. Let’s just go get some rest and next time we try this we’ll ensure they know.”

Isabel and Michael nodded at this as she looked at each of them. She looked at Michael last, “So where are you headed now?”

“East. I’m not sure where, yet.” He shrugged, slightly, so as not to strain his sore arms.

“Well if you can, swing up north. It’d be good to see you in person,” she told him affectionately as she gave him a light hug, wary of his hidden injuries.

“I’ll do my best.” he smiled.

“You take care ok? Slow down, Liz still believes it’s safe for us. I want to believe that too,” Isabel said tearfully as she hugged him tightly, her palms pressed against his back.

“I will.” With that Isabel and Liz were left alone once more in the dreamscape.

~ ~ ~

Highway

*I will.* He was about to say something more, but he soon awoke to the sound of the blaring horn of a loud carrier truck. He rolled his eyes and attempted to get up. He was still sore, but better than before. He stretched gingerly and moved to survey his bike’s damage. Surprisingly it was ok except for a few dings, which he quickly remedied.

Once he was done, he 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.”

What the hell? He was not in the mood for these messages and 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.

~ ~ ~

30 Minutes Earlier
That same road

“Shit!” The young man hit the top of his steering wheel hard as he parked in front of his quarry. He had been tailing the artist for hours now, keeping enough distance so that he would not become suspicious. However, the crash certainly put a damper on that plan.

He quickly got out of the car and went to check on the artist. He was still breathing, but one of his arms was bent awkwardly. He knew he should call for help, but before he automatically dialed 911 he remembered the general’s words, *If anything happens, call me first.* He pulled out the card again and dialed.

“What happened,” the stern voice answered.

“There was an accident. He… he’s not moving. Should I call the ambulance?”

“Is he still breathing?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll be fine. Just get him off the road.”

“What? You just want me to leave him out here?”

“He’ll be fine. Just do it.” With that the general hung up leaving no room for the ex-agent to argue with him.

He didn’t understand it, but he did as he was told. Apparently joining this general was almost like being with the Unit again, no questioning orders, but at least everything he’d done so far was not harmful.

He gingerly hooked his arms underneath the artist’s ones, his tall frame proving quite a challenge to move. Even though the two men were of relatively equal height, the artist had a broader build. After laying him well off the side of the road, he went to move the motorcycle too. The guy was lucky, the machine was scraped up and had a few dents but overall still looked workable. He placed it by the artist and checked once more on his breathing. It seemed regular enough. Just as he was debating if he should really leave even though he was told to not let the artist see him, his phone rang.

“Hello?” He whispered, even though he knew the artist could not hear him.

“One more thing. It’s time to leave another message.”

The ex-agent nodded as he searched his pocket for some paper and a pen. Fortunately he found a scrap. He quickly scrawled out the words after hanging up and then got into his car and drove off to the next closest rest-stop to wait.