Roswell Fanatics

Well Liz just needs to keep fighting! Maybe just maybe those idiot aliens will get it through their thick heads that Liz is never going to do what they want! Philip it seems is breaking some rules to try and help Liz. Feeding her energy and giving her news about Max. But she really needs to get away from them! Don't they know that if they don't give her more then a little bit of bread that she could die. If Liz has been their prisoner for ten days where does her father think she is? I don't think that Alex could lie to him for that long.


Helen

Do you think an AK-47 would be over kill for Sean, his father and those other aliens?

What she did to Sean was AMAZING! If she would have killed him, she would be certainly dead, at this time but she stopped b4 it was too late
and I really hope there will be some more changes because what they did to her showed how little respects the aliens have with the humans...

And especially the sergeant, who acts obviously only for his own good... Sean will more careful with her; He saws what she can do and will repeat it with him, if he tried again... hopefully!!!

EVE

Ashley (Morning Dreamgirl)

I'm glad that we seem to be on the same wave length as far as punishing Sean goes. He was given warning after warning when she threw him. He's just too thick headed for his own good.

Sean really needed to learn his lesson and you (and Philip) are probably right; Sean won’t be too inclined to approach Liz after this.

I'm actually surprised that they (apparently) healed Sean in the same room where Liz is being held. I can't imagine he'd go back in there and be sitting down if he had left. So he was healed in the room making me believe that he wasn't in any kind of condition to be moved. Which also means that Philip would have had to get there quickly. So he couldn't have been too far away.

He was healed in the room, because he was really really badly off. To badly hurt to be able to move him (just the pain of someone actually putting hands on him to move him might have been enough to send him into life-threatening shock). Good deduction about Mr. Evans’ possible close location to where Liz is being held. Or maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe Philip just happened to be around at the time. Or maybe - even - they had put everyone on high alert, considering that they had immobilized Max just for the purpose of (once and for all) trying to get through the bond through Liz, so more people than usual were ”viewing” the whole thing. Which is awful in and of itself - a group of adults idly watching while a young girl is about to get raped.

Liz is obviously being kept in someone's "basement room." I'm thinking the Sgt's because it would make it easy on them to visit her so often. But she could be in another council member's basement. But for the amount of time they spend trying to break her it makes more sense that she would be housed by them. Which means that it would be difficult to get Liz out. And given the fact she's watched 24 hours to be kept from sleeping long there has to be more than just the Sgt and Sean involved in torturing her. Even if they're the only ones she sees.

I can tell you this much; yes, Liz is in someone’s ”basement” room. There are no windows and she can’t hear any sounds from the outside and she can’t be heard from the inside. So it’s specifically built to keep people in for whatever punishment is required. Which is the purpose of the alien private ”prisons”. Couldn’t tell you who the room belongs to though

Philip has to know that Liz really doesn't want to be alive any more. (So what in the world is taking so long? *Sigh*) You can't force someone else to stay alive. So I'm surprised that it didn't concern him more that she would say that. It's Liz. He knows what a fighter she is. So to hear those words come out of her mouth - he didn't look as shaken as I thought he might. Even with the Sgt and Sean in the room.

Philip still has his role to play. Hence, he doesn’t show much when Liz announces that she wants to die. But maybe that’s also because he (in a horrible way) is starting to anticipate her feeling that way, considering how many days it’s been. Sarge has his head so far up his own ass that he can’t tell that Philip is just jerking his chain. They don’t think very highly of Philip. He’s just a doctor. Not the least military. So even if it looked bad at the meeting, it seems as if they’ve let it slide - whatever Philip might have done/not done to help Max. Because what threat could Philip pose to them anyway? He’s - again - just a doctor.

I wonder just what "fine" means in reference to Max.

Philip telling Liz that Max is fine is essentially just telling her that he’s alive. ”Fine” is just his way of trying to calm down the girl that would rather be dead and give her something to live for. I don’t think it would be motivation enough if Philip just stated ”He’s alive”. Even if Philip must know that Liz doesn’t quite believe him - that she must have some insight into the true state of Max, because of their connection.

Speaking of reaching out - why is Max finally/just now able to reach out to her? I get that it could be because their bond is getting stronger but there has to be a balancing out for the shape that they're in. Otherwise it seems too far out there. So *how* is is able to reach her and why not before now? Color me curious.

The connection is still developing. Even though they might be separated by some distance and they are both in weakened states, the connection should gradually be getting stronger. So maybe that's why Max can "suddenly" reach Liz. Or... maybe there's someone there helping him...

What's their back up plan? They won't be able to wipe her mind. They'll have created a weapon against themselves. The thought has to be crossing all their minds by now. It has to be making them more afraid and even more desperate for the bond to be broken. But they keep seeing Max's powers becoming stronger (I assume) and Liz doesn't break and gets stronger as well.

The council’s ”back-up plan” is coming up… Kinda… Well, some clues are given. *Ahem*. And seeing that you’re a smart girl, you’ll probably be able to figure it all out. The council is still counting on that their laws and years of putting fear in their ”people” through those threats of punishment will serve them well in the end. They think a bit too highly of themselves to be deemed healthy, I suspect.

You do realize that as of the next chapter she'll have been captured for 10% of the chapters you've written. And 23% of the "days" in your story so far. So I feel completely justified in stating we need 20 happy chapters at the end. In fact I should probably raise it to 30. Three for each day in captivity. (So Max, Liz and their bond each have a day to heal for every day they've been separated so far.)

*laughs* You do realize that you just made statistics out of my story? But you’re right. I’ve probably never skipped so quickly ahead in the days in this story as I’ve done while they’ve been in captivity.

See? I am so nice. Without me pressuring you (I mean asking you) so nicely you might let all your poor readers suffer with them being separated and tortured for lord knows who long. And then you'd have go write 100 happy chapters just to calm everyone down and make everyone sigh happily at the end.

Hmm... What would you do without me?

Thank you for sorting it all for me. I now need to write approximately 100 happy chapters. Oh gosh… And Josephin who can’t stay away from angst. Will you at least let me have them arguing over laundry?

Thank you thank you thank you!!


Helen (roswelllostcause)

Well Liz just needs to keep fighting! Maybe just maybe those idiot aliens will get it through their thick heads that Liz is never going to do what they want!

Exactly!

Philip it seems is breaking some rules to try and help Liz.

He's putting himself in a lot of danger for doing that...

Don't they know that if they don't give her more then a little bit of bread that she could die.

The sick thing is that they have a healer (Philip), who can just replenish her life energy (essentially bring her back to life - as long as it's not done past actual moment of death) and then they can start all over again.

Liz has been their prisoner for ten days where does her father think she is? I don't think that Alex could lie to him for that long.

Explanations are coming up concerning all of this...

I think AK-47 might do the trick...

Thank you so much for your feedback, Helen!


Eve (begonia9508)

What she did to Sean was AMAZING! If she would have killed him, she would be certainly dead, at this time but she stopped b4 it was too late

He really needed to get his hands off her, so I guess that did the trick... But yes, it's a good thing that she didn't accidentally kill him. It might have ended badly for her.

Sean will be very cautious to approach Liz from now on... Getting burnt like that hurts - and it's not a pain you forget very easily

Thank you so much for the feedback!


From SIXTY-FIVE:

But the voice in my head was persistent, even though it was very far away.

Liz?

"Max," I mumbled, opening my eyes slowly. I stared into the white wall, pulling my scattered thoughts together and reached for that safe place at the back of my mind.

Focusing on thinking my question, rather than speaking it, I thought; Max?

There was a pause before his reply came through, wavering in intensity, but relatively clear even in its softness.

Don't give up.

There was no mistaking that it was Max. Maybe my mind was starting to play tricks on me, but I honestly didn't care. The relief and love which that one sentence created was enough on its own. Even with the risk of it being a mere hallucination.

I love you.

A harsh sob ripped out of my chest and I pressed my feverish cheek against the cold floor. I concentrated really hard and thought, I love you too.

I knew that I had managed to 'get through' when a wave of love and relief flooded our connection. I imagined his body curving around mine, spooning our bodies together in a prolonged hug, as I drifted off to sleep.

SIXTY-SIX

I was roughly pulled back into awareness, my body stiff and cold from laying on the bathroom floor, by the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Adrenaline instantly sharpened my senses and before my eyes were even fully opened, I had scooted my body to the furthest wall away from the door.

It was amazing how quickly your body would become accustomed to instinctively react. To flee.

I was struggling to pull my weak body together, my arms folding around my knees as I pulled myself up into a tight seated position, trying to make my body as small as possible against the wall. The dark figure of a man became visible in the doorframe as the door swung open, and there was an immediate shift in the atmosphere.

The air became thick, more sinister, as the figure blocking my only exit seemed to devour light.

"Good morning, Ms. Parker," the shadow spoke in a dark monotone tone.

I would have recognized that voice anywhere. I had only encountered it on one occasion, but it had been enough to be forever imprinted into my memory, as means of survival.

The white-haired man, surrounding by black color, with an air of oppressive respect and impassion was standing not more than three feet away from me.

Command.

The one in charge of the alien community in Roswell.

The one who I had been unable to read.

The one that insinuated that Max would be punished; no matter what the counterargument.

I hadn't seen that man since the meeting. Since he had told me to go to sleep.

My exhausted mind briefly wished for Sean or even the Sergeant to take Command's place. For them - with their acidic insinuations and angry attempts at controlling my mind - to be the ones to stand in the doorway to the small bathroom instead of the blank version of a fake human being.

Anything was better than the vulnerability and exposure I was feeling right now. The fear that was pressing down on my chest; the fear that he was here to not only deliver my verdict but maybe even execute it.

When I didn't respond, the shape of Command continued forward, taking a step into the bathroom, into the stark bathroom light. He stopped in the middle of the room, his back straight, with the white light making the whiteness of his hair sting my eyes. His blue eyes were transfixed on my face, slowly moving across my features.

If it weren't for his expressionless face, I might have thought he was sizing me up. Almost as though he was hungrily observing a meal. I don't know where that feeling came from, considering he wasn't giving me any indication of his feelings (if he had any...), but it made me press my back further into the cold tiled wall behind me, feeling so scared that I could barely remember how to keep on breathing.

"Are you going to kill me?" I whispered, my own fearful voice making my eyes tear.

This was it. They were fed up with me. They had reached their maximum level of patience.

I thought I would be relieved at the thought of them ending my life - ending my misery - but when actually faced with that reality I realized that I didn't want to die. I had my whole life ahead of me. I wanted to live.

I wanted to live.

"We are quite perplexed by you, Ms. Parker," Command stated without addressing my fear. "Even with efforts of weakening the bodies of both you and Max Evans, your connection has remained. The reports have shown a weakening due to the physical distance between you, but the distance alone has not been enough to facilitate in us breaking the bond."

Physical distance? my tired mind slowly considered. Which meant that Max might (geographically) be very far away for them to consider it a factor in trying to weaken our connection. Where was he? Where was Max?

"Curiously," Command continued in his eerily unemotional voice, "attempts at immobilizing Mr. Evans - in the hopes that he was the one keeping the connection alive - were only semi-successful."

I hated to think of what immobilizing meant.

"Actually, it seemed to only strengthen your part of the connection, Ms. Parker."

The burning. He was referring to me being able to burn Sean - even without Max's 'assistance'.

I had been right then. Max had been 'immobilized' (as they called it) while Sean had almost succeeded in 'copulating' with me.

"Something we haven't seen before," Command finished.

I wet my dry lips and blinked slowly against my fatigue. I would have felt vulnerable in either case, but considering my seriously weakened condition, I was certain that Command would be able to do anything he wanted to me.

But for some reason, I suspected that he was not interested in killing me. He would not be divulging all of this information if he was.

"What do you want from me?" I whispered.

I barely reacted as I felt my body being lifted off the floor. I had entered an odd phase of my existence where their treatment of my body had reached a state of apathetic resignation, bordering on a state of normalcy. Making me not only expect, but also accept, their presumption that they could treat me however they wished.

Command was still in the middle of the room, several feet away from me, as I continued to levitate. I felt pressure across the front of my shoulders, across the top of my chest, as if some invisible hands were grabbing me and pushing me upwards. My back was sliding along the cold wall, my arms and legs hanging limply downwards in response to gravity.

"It surprises me that your body remains so easily manipulated even when your mind is closed off," Command continued.

"If you can't access my mind, how were you able to make me unconscious at the meeting?" I whispered, the pressure over my shoulders, over my chest, imitating the pressure of an anxiety attack which made it hard for me to breathe. Made it hard for me to focus.

"You are quite inquisitive," Command said. "I've been told you are, but perhaps your hunger for knowledge is adding to your strength in the bond."

I failed to take the deep breath I needed and swallowed instead, my breaths fluttering insufficiently at the top of my lungs. "With all due respect, sir, you've firmly displayed your power. Now, please, let me down."

Command smiled.

Smiled.

I instantly regretted having wished that Command would show some emotions, some feelings.

The smile was the technical result of pulling the corners of the mouth north, letting the lips stretch over the teeth. It made him look like a madman; the smile as wide as that of the painted one of the Joker in a Batman movie. But there was no spark in his eyes, no connection between what his mouth was attempting to say and what his eyes were saying.

My body grew cold. Even if I had no voluntary control over my body, I could feel the goosebumps explode across every inch of my skin.

I had heard once that people could die from fear. If so, would I be one of them?

"I do not need to access your mind to make you unconscious, Ms. Parker," he spoke in a light breathy voice, the smile remaining on his face, strained and unnatural. "Your human mind needs oxygen to function, which is delivered by your blood. I only need to momentarily cut off that supply to shut off your brain."

Oxygen deprivation.

Even if I unconsciously already knew that a large number of the aliens probably could kill me without laying a hand on me, it was terrifying to actually hear it. That he could possibly stop my heart right now if he wanted to.

"Why would you need to be able to shoot energy at each other if all you have to do is think someone should die and they would?"

The smile stretched larger on his face. Was he amused? Amused by my questions?

I guessed in a way it probably was out of the ordinary. I was suspended in the air, my back pressed up against a wall with no control over my body, and I was asking questions.

But it was the only way I could stop myself from disintegrating by fear. Denial might be my sole savior under these circumstances.

"I believe that young Mr. Evans has informed you of my stance. Of my abilities. They are not the same as the rest of the community. My mind is far stronger than theirs."

I struggled to get another breath in. "How about you use that strength of yours to do something good?" My body was shutting down due to me being unable to take full breaths, but despite the lack of oxygen I added quickly, "Sir," not wanting to unnecessarily piss him off. Who knew what that man might do to me if I were to awaken some unpleasant emotions in him?

He looked at me in silence for a couple of seconds before he turned off the smile. That's what it looked like. Like turning a switch.

"We are attempting something new, Ms. Parker."

Oh no...

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a syringe. It was small and contained a clear fluid.

No... my mind protested weakly.

"Some things can't be done without access to your mind, however," Command continued and I felt myself slide down the wall until my feet almost touched the ground.

The tips of my toes brushed against the cold flooring as he slowly closed the distance between our bodies. I could only look forward, which forced me to stare at his chest as he towered up in front of me.

"Let's put this directly into your blood for a quicker effect," he said slowly. Even though I knew it was fruitless, I tried to will my body to respond. To struggle. To show my objection to this.

What was in the syringe? Something that would change how I saw the world? Something lethal? Something that would make me lose control over the bond? Make it easier for them to break it?

I felt the prickle against my neck as the syringe was fed into my jugular vein and the effect was immediate as the fluid was injected into my bloodstream.

His control over my body was released as the injection started to spread through my system. I slowly sank to the floor into a weak mass of limbs. The room was spinning around me and my vision was turning blurry, then clear, then blurry.

His voice sounded off-key and wobbled with the air around me as he announced, "We are going on a journey, Ms. Parker."
I had been transported by car. They hadn't blindfolded me or made any attempts at preventing me from seeing where I was going, but they probably knew that I wouldn't have been able to keep track of it anyway. Whatever I had been injected with was swirling through my blood, making me weak and slow in my movements. My mind was too muddled to be able to accurately think through what was happening or analyze what they had given me.

My legs were not holding me up as I was dragged along a long dark corridor, after having been pulled out of a four-wheel-drive and roughly maneuvered into a building. It was dark outside. That's about all I could discern with my eyesight cloudy and unstable.

After what seemed an eternity at the same time as an instant, I was roughly shoved into a dark room. My weak legs folded as soon as their hands let go of me and they didn't even bother to move my feet out of the way before they pulled the door closed behind me. The door collided with my bare feet, the impact resonating up the bones of my legs and shooting pain up my spine.

My cheek was to the floor. The floor was moving. At least in my world.

I was fighting sleep. I couldn't sleep right now. I needed to find out where I was.

I pushed my fingers into the concrete flooring and tried to pull myself closer to the door. I was intending to scream at them, but my "Let me out," barely passed my lips before my cheek fell heavily back to the floor.

"Please, let me out," I whispered against the floor.

Even in my drugged state, I could tell that this room was a lot worse than my previous accommodation. This was not a room one lived in. The floor was cold and hard, the hollow sound from the door closing earlier, echoing off the walls, and the magnification of the small rustling sounds my own body made, informed me of the bareness of the area.

The suffocating darkness was not helping the least.

A tremble went through me, my body trying to convince me to give in. Begging me. I was so tired. I pulled on my strength to move an inch forward and put my mouth against the small crack between the door and the doorframe, weakly speaking through the hole to the outside, "You can't keep me in here."

Then something touched my arm and when the scream of deep fear failed me due to lack of energy, a frightful gasp bounced off the oppressive silence in its place.

"Liz?"

I froze, my weak slow pulse rushing through my head while my sluggish mind was considering all the possibilities of who would be impersonating him this time. Who was occupying this dark room with me?

Because it couldn't be Max.

The floor wobbled under my body, the rush of adrenaline through a semi-sedated body having pulled on the last piece of its resistance, and I could feel myself losing the grip on consciousness.

"You're here," the voice whispered, but the touch against my arm remained frozen, as if the person could sense my fear and my suspicion towards his true identity.

The tears running down my cheeks were warm against my cold cheeks as I let my eyes close and whispered, "Don't pretend to be him. Please."

A (warm) hand brushed down my cheek ever so tenderly and my body sighed in hopeful relief. My body was a lot more inclined to believing it was him than my mind was.

"Turn into someone else. Anyone. Please."

Behind my closed eyelids, my world was dark and muddy. Confused and frightened. But slowly, colors were lighting up before my inner eye. Red that turned into blue, that swirled into warm yellow and quickly exploded into white. A bright white light that obliterated any darkness in my mind.

My eyes flew open, blind in the darkness of the room, but no longer blind to who was next to me.

There was no longer any chance of denying the increasing sound of the connection, the very present aggravated and fearful thoughts and feelings that were not only my own.

"Max?" I sobbed, my voice breaking.

"You're here," he repeated, in that voice that I had missed so much. Emotional and warm.

My eyes grew accustomed to the darkness and I searched out his face, the emotions in his eyes visible even in the meager light, before he recognized the permission in my eyes, scooped his hands in my armpits and hauled me up onto his lap.

A tremble rocked me as my numb body sank into his, his feelings shooting straight into my heart like rays of life while his arms tightly encased me. I whimpered as he pressed his face into the side of my neck, whispering fervently, "Thank God."

His embrace was so tight that I could hardly breathe. But when choosing between air and Max, I would choose Max. Every time.

It was him. There was no doubt in my mind. Not a single thread.

It was not like my hold on him was any lighter. My arms were tight around his waist, as were my legs around his hips, as I longed to crawl inside of him. Longed to merge into his body through osmosis. Or something.

He was kissing my neck - small, hurried, kisses - his hands traveling to bury in my hair as my resolve broke and I started crying. My sobs hitched on my breaths and I clenched his sweater into my hands at his back.

"Baby," he whispered brokenly against my ear and my tears flowed harder. I felt his tears hitting my neck before he pulled back and started kissing the tears on my face away.

Everything was hitting me at once. Every beating I hadn't let myself cry over, every beating that I had. The fear that had nestled itself into my heart like a permanent parasite. The visions of my mom and how she had been abused. The mind games both Sean and his father had played and the constant fear of what would happen to Max. If they would eventually give up on trying to reform him, decide that it was not that important to have a healer if he was going to be rebellious, and consequently decide to kill him.

I cried about that he was finally here with me. Not just a buzz in my head, a stream of faint feelings and bittersweet memories, but here with me - in person. Warm, gentle, passionate, worried, strong, beautiful Max.

His fingers brushed at my hair, brushed it away from the tears wetting my cheeks, and kissed my eyelids. The franticness of his movements had calmed and he slowly kissed the sides of my mouth before kissing my lips. Softly. Reverently. As if he was afraid that I would disintegrate if he was too hurried, too forceful.

I bathed in his feelings, in his thoughts. At the moment they were all focused on me, on us. Except for his fear about what had happened to me, there were no signs of what he had been through during our separation. And I was happy about that. We needed us right now. Not the painful ghosts of what we'd been subjected to.

That was bound to come later.

I heard his thoughts whisper about it being too dangerous this close to the door, before he lifted our tangled bodies off the hard cold floor and walked us over to a corner. The darkness was suffocating around us as I clung to him, my legs wrapped around his waist, not intending to ever let him go again. He seemed happy about that arrangement, because he wouldn't even let me go in order to sink down in the corner of that room.

My tears were rapidly wearing me out. I hadn't had a proper meal in eleven days and with my jailers' schedule of constantly waking me up - as part of their torture - meant that I had no energy left.

Max must've felt me fading away, my body growing limp in his arms. He quietly lifted me, giving me a fright at first, having to deal with a small freak-out on my behalf about me not leaving him, before he had calmed me down enough to seat me back on his lap.

Only now my side was to his front, my legs draped off his thighs and his arms around my upper body as he pulled his legs up - capturing me in a protective fortress made of Max.

"Sleep," he whispered when he felt me resisting.

Even if I hadn't been injected with something, it would have been difficult for me to continue resisting the intruding sleep.

"No," I answered faintly, barely managing to voice that one word.

So tired. I was so tired.

But also very used to not letting my guard down. And deathly afraid that Max would disappear while I was asleep.

"I'm not letting you go," he said fiercely, his grip automatically tightening. "I'm not letting you go."

And even though I didn't want to waste any seconds on sleeping that could be spent on being awake with Max, my body couldn't resist that natural (and pharmaceutically induced) pull any longer and I submitted to unconsciousness.


TBC...

Great Chapter!!!! Please please please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to read what will happen next for Max and Liz. All I will say about command, Sargent, Sean and other Aliens like them need to go to hell and rot on a high voltage electrical wire by their dicks. Finally Max and Liz are together. Poor Max and Liz and everything they are going through just to be together. What the Hell is Command, Sargent, Sean and other Aliens
like them up to? Is Liz really with Max or is it a trick? Will Max and Liz's bond and Love stand everything command, Sargent, Sean and other aliens like them put Max and Liz through? Will Max and Liz be together after all this?

From:
L-J-L 76

I am not sure that I truly believe that Max and Liz are together again. I want to know what those stupid aliens are up to. Something is just not sitting right. I know they are up to something and when it comes to Max and Liz it can't be good! What the hell was that drug that Command gave Liz? Are they still trying to play with her mind?


Helen

Getting that AK-47 ready to go alien hunting!

Really great part!

And I am so happy that even Command discovered that they couldn't manipulate Liz the way they wanted! After having fast killed Liz ( And I don't know how many women were treated this way?) They found a gaea who could fight them and was strong...

So I am hoping that things finally, will go better for both our lovers...

Thanks EVE

not sure that is true, they just drugged her

L-J-L 76

All I will say about command, Sargent, Sean and other Aliens like them need to go to hell and rot on a high voltage electrical wire by their dicks.

You don't sugarcoat, do you?

Is Liz really with Max or is it a trick?

Hopefully the next part will answer this...

Thank you for the feedback!


Helen (roswelllostcause)

I am not sure that I truly believe that Max and Liz are together again.

Apparently, you're not alone in this doubt. With all right. She has been tricked before. Hopefully the next chapter will shed some light on that question.

What the hell was that drug that Command gave Liz? Are they still trying to play with her mind?

Thank you, Helen P.S. Did you find any aliens on your hunt?


Eve (begonia9508) - Let's keep our fingers crossed that the worst part is over for our dreamer couple. Although, you know my writing by now, Eve, so maybe it's just not that "simple"

Thank you for the feedback!


Natalie36

not sure that is true, they just drugged her

Hopefully you'll be more certain after the next part. Thank you for the feedback!



From SIXTY-SIX:

Max must've felt me fading away, my body growing limp in his arms. He quietly lifted me, giving me a fright at first, having to deal with a small freak-out on my behalf about me not leaving him, before he had calmed me down enough to seat me back on his lap.

Only now my side was to his front, my legs draped off his thighs and his arms around my upper body as he pulled his legs up - capturing me in a protective fortress made of Max.

"Sleep," he whispered when he felt me resisting.

Even if I hadn't been injected with something, it would have been difficult for me to continue resisting the intruding sleep.

"No," I answered faintly, barely managing to voice that one word.

So tired. I was so tired.

But also very used to not letting my guard down. And deathly afraid that Max would disappear while I was asleep.

"I'm not letting you go," he said fiercely, his grip automatically tightening. "I'm not letting you go."

And even though I didn't want to waste any seconds on sleeping that could be spent on being awake with Max, my body couldn't resist that natural (and pharmaceutically induced) pull any longer and I submitted to unconsciousness.

SIXTY-SEVEN

I didn't sleep for long, my rest fitful even in the soft and warm human-alien bed I was in.

The last two weeks had completely fried my nerves and even with the constant connection feeding love even into my dreams, I couldn't let myself relax.

So it was no wonder that I awoke with a startled scream, with the phantom feeling of Sean kicking me in the back - projected from my memory - turned into a nightmare.

"Liz." Max's voice was hushed, regretful, as he tenderly brushed the tears from my nightmare away with the pads of his fingers.

Slowly I became aware of my new reality. When I was no longer woken up by my tormentors, but instead being woken up cradled in Max's embrace. Our connection was soothing my mind, preparing me for his presence even before I fully awoke. Helping me to not react in panic at the fact that someone was holding me.

The room was still dark and with my increasing level of awareness, I started to take in my new surroundings.

Is this where Max had been this whole time? In this darkness?

Yes, he whispered in my mind.

I blinked up to his face, documenting the changes to his features. There were dark circles under his eyes, his face was thin, his cheekbones were protruding and he had a beard. Almost. The facial hair cast shadows on his face that made him look not only older, but also darker, more haunted, and accentuated his weight loss.

I brought my hand up and brushed it slowly through his hair. I swallowed back the urge to cry anew.

"What have they done to you?" I asked sadly.

I could only assume that they had treated him worse than me, since he was part of their society. They didn't have to consider cover stories when it concerned Max. At least not to the same degree as they would with me.

"It's nothing," he murmured, covering my searching hand with his and bringing it to his mouth to adore it with a soft kiss.

Even the anger that usually burnt so hotly through him that it should be exploding through our connection with intensity, was subdued. He was not himself. Not by a long-shot.

His anger about how I had been treated was tinged not only with fatigue, but also guilt and self-hate.

He was blaming himself.

I crushed my body closer against his, pressing my nose into the curve of his neck and screwed my eyes tightly closed. I could feel his life force pulsate against the tip of my cold nose and hear his breathing against my ear. His smell was all around me, giving me the illusion of safety and a sense of home. Even when our situation was far from it.

My arms were around his waist and I pushed my hands up underneath his shirt, up along the taut and tense muscles of his back, my heartbeat throbbing through my chest at the implied strength of his body as well as in response to the small tremors that betrayed his ever-present guilt.

My short escape to sleep hadn't been enough to alleviate my chronic fatigue, but had helped to clear my head of the blurriness that whatever I had been injected with had created. My thoughts were a lot clearer, even though they were slower than they would have been if I hadn't been running on so little sleep.

"I love you," I whispered against his neck, feeling the tightness in his throat and how his arms contracted around me.

His voice was strained, as if he had trouble getting the words out. "They haven't given you any food."

My shaky breath brushed against his skin. "Enough for me to stay alive."

Because starving me was not the worst of it. And he was reading it all in my mind. Seeing it, like some horror motion picture in his head. But my thoughts jumped so quickly back and forth that it became an incomplete account of torment.

He stopped breathing and I tried to stop thinking. Tried to will the images of my mom's abuse and of my own abuse away. I even attempted the blocking thing that I had succeeded with on a blanket in a dark desert not too long ago.

But I was pathetically unsuccessful.

I felt his fingernails dig into my back as his fingers slowly curled into my sweater. I felt the tremors in his body intensify and grow more uncontrolled. The fire I had looked for earlier was quickly igniting in him now as he saw what Sean had done to me. Witnessed what Sean almost had been successful in doing.

He inhaled sharply before a loud dull sound made me jump in his tight hold.

Ghostly pain spread through my hand as he tensely said, "Sorry. Sorry." He had slammed his fist into the floor.

He was taking deep breaths, controlled breaths. But even when his anger was overriding the connection, making me feel like I was almost on fire, he didn't scare me. It would have scared me before, but I knew that he would never hurt me. Consciously or unconsciously. I knew that his love for me was the reason for his anger.

So I just held on, trying to push my love through the connection, make it blend with the anger and guilt in an attempt to cool the overwhelming fury.

"Kiss me," he choked, barely getting the words out in the midst of his harsh breathing. In the midst of his efforts to control himself.

I lifted my face from his neck and looked at him in confusion. Why, when I could tell that he mostly wanted to put his fist through a wall, did he want me to kiss him?

I barely had time to open my mouth to ascertain that he had just said what I had thought he said before he basically attacked me.

His lips were warm and hot against mine. Desperate and unrestrained. His breaths harsh in the short fractions of seconds when he would change angle in how he would taste me. His hands were underneath my shirt, running up my back, fingers pressing into my shoulder blades, making the front of my shirt strain against my breasts while he used his hands to press my upper body tighter against his.

My tears were melting into our kisses and I was using my own hands on his back to reciprocate his need for proximity. Our need for proximity.

Until I realized that I wasn't the one crying. I was too caught up in his emotions, in him, to react to anything within myself.

It was Max's tears, Max's desperation that was seeping through our beautiful bond.

"Max," I got out while locked in his frustratedly passionate adoration of my mouth.

"Fuck," he mumbled as he let my lips go, only to kiss down my jawline, down my neck, his hands moving inside my sweater, up over my shoulders and tightening over my protruding collarbones.

"Max, stop," I whispered, my lips sore from his despair.

When he didn't, his first audible sob ripping painfully through my heart, I put my hands between our bodies and pushed at his chest.

Gently. Carefully. Trying to get through to him.

The distance separated his mouth from my neck and I gasped as his teary eyes met mine.

"Max..." I repeated, my love and concern for him breaking through that simple voicing of his name.

He let out a shaky breath, a tear rolling down his cheek, before he lifted me off his lap and pushed himself to his feet. I felt the coldness of the floor seep into my seated body as I worriedly watched him quickly approach the door and slam his fists into it.

"You bastards!!"

His bellow ripped through me and I flinched in the bareness of the room. I watched the thin lines of his back, the tension of his neck and the anger in his assault upon the innocent door, and felt like I was watching a wounded animal. A betrayed, wounded animal.

"You fucking sons of a-" His voice cut off abruptly as he swirled around and walked up to one corner of the room, looking straight into the top of the corner as he yelled, "She had nothing to do with this!! She's human, you fucking cowards!"

Adrenaline was shooting through my veins and I knew that I probably should be frightened by his violent behavior, but the camera situated in the top of that corner - a red blinking light indicating that it was recording his 'message' - was scaring me more than Max's loss of control ever could.

He took a deep breath, fisted his hands along his side, momentarily dropping his head in what seemed to be an attempt at trying to collect himself, before he slowly raised his face to the camera.

I immediately recognized the more familiar controlled version of Max. The public Max. The one that was barely fazed by anything.

His demand was leveled. Even. Almost cold. "You will bring us some food. Right now."

My eyes flickered to the door on reflex, almost anticipating the door would open immediately. His demand had been authoritative enough for me to believe it.

But of course, the door didn't open.

Instead, Max added for whoever was watching, "I don't know what you're planning to do now, with us together, but I can promise you this - we won't make it easy on you. We might have been willing to cooperate before, but not anymore. Not anymore."

I swallowed, hugging my knees to my chest.

He must have felt my chill through the connection, because he looked over his shoulder at me, our breath catching as our eyes met.

He held my eyes for a long moment, making my eyes teary with the look, even though the darkness made it difficult for me to see him. His feelings across the connection were filling in the blanks.

Turning his head back to the camera, his next announcement was not only a threat. It was a promise. "And Sean? You're dead. You hear me? You won't ever lay a hand on her again."

His threat made my tears run over, a sob ripping through my chest, and he was a blurry figure through the wetness in my eyes as he turned and quickly closed the distance between us.

I didn't really know how to handle the feelings. The feelings brought about by him defending me. By being prepared to break his personal ethics of never doing harm and absolutely never killing anyone, to keep me safe. To avenge me. Knowing that I must look horribly damaged for him to react this way, as though they had already killed me.

He sank down on his knees in front of me and his eyes burnt through me. The anger was being pushed back, he was reclaiming the control over his feelings, and all I could think about was:

What if they already did? What if they had already robbed me of my ability to ever feel alive again?

"They're idiots," he mumbled, his hands brushing through my hair before wiping at my tears. "They're stupider than I thought." He kissed me gently on my cheek, just below my right eye, before adding, "Why would they bring us together? When there's the possibility that we might present more of a danger to them together?"

"Why?" I whispered with a snivel, watching his face closely as his eyes skittered across mine, as if he was tracing the details of my face, the faint reminders of my physical injuries.

My thoughts echoed his musings, Why would they bring us together?

His flickering gaze stilled, locking with mine, and after a prolonged pause he said slowly, "It's another experiment. Another test."

I was holding my breath. He looked down at his finger as it slowly brushed over my bottom lip.

There was a frown between his eyebrows as he tried to solve the puzzle. Tried to get into the minds of our captors. "They figured out that the bond can't be broken so they want to see what we can do together. If our bond can be an asset to them." He looked up at me, looking worried and angry all at once. "That must be it. That's the only thing I can think of."

It didn't frighten me. Not even the thought of more time in captivity. Of being part of a test.

It didn't frighten me because I wasn't alone anymore.

He shook his head slowly, trailing the pad of his thumb along my right cheekbone, warmth creeping into his haunted eyes as he mumbled, "You're so reckless. And brave. Stupid, really."

I frowned. Stupid?

But before I could comment, he clarified, "Thank you for saving my life."

Me jumping in front of him. Taking the hit from Sean. Of course Max hadn't been happy about that. He must have been furious with me at some point, risking my life to save his.

What had he said? That night in the desert? That life wasn't some kind of romance novel. That there was no such thing as sacrificing yourself for someone else.

And to his 'dismay', I had gone straight ahead and proved him wrong.

"I still owe you," I said.

He had healed me twice. Saved my life twice. And that was ignoring the numerous acts of keeping me away from Sean.

Fear rippled across his features and shook our connection. "I hope you never will be faced with the opportunity to repay me in full."

I slowly nodded, biting my lower lip to control my tears, "Me neither."

He leaned in and used his lips to nibble my restrained lip free from my teeth, gently caressing my mouth with his before letting the words whisper across my lips in a caress, "But it could never be about some weird life-debt between us."

No. Of course not. All that mattered was that we were both alive. That, for whatever reason, they had put us back together.

"I know," I agreed solemnly. It didn't matter who saved who and how many times. What mattered was that, in the end, we both survived.

He lifted his hands, where they had been resting on the top of his thighs, to flutter them across my face. His eyes traced the movements while my own fluttered close at the caress. At the love in his touch, the tenderness that was second nature to him.

"I want to heal you," he whispered sadly when his hands reached my shoulders, moving down my shivering arms.

You have to save your energy, my mind told him. He was exhausted, just like me. He needed to save the energy he had. Who knew what might happen if he took the healing too far (which he had a tendency to do), and he would fall unconscious and I-

My eyes snapped open and I flinched back from his touch. I saw the fearful confusion in the line between his eyebrows and I gasped, "Don't heal me. No."

If he would empty all his energy into me, losing his own grip on consciousness, he was not only in danger of not waking up, but he would be completely at the mercy of our captors. And so would I. Without his powers (however subdued they might be), I would be completely at the mercy of those evil men. Just like before.

"I'm fine," I added hurriedly, capturing his hands in mine, interlacing our fingers, and pulling them away from my body. Signaling that he shouldn't even attempt to try.

But I knew that he wouldn't do anything like that against my will.

"I can't," he said slowly, his fingers tightening against mine. He pulled our entwined hands towards his chest, pressing them up against his heart, making my body pull forward so that he could kiss me.

What did he mean?

As his lips traveled over mine, his voice was clear in my mind, They've done something to my powers. I have no powers.

My fearful gasp drowned in his mouth and the fear froze my body.

Don't be scared, he begged me soberly, his lips kissing down my jaw.

Don't be scared? Don't be scared?

Tremors started in my shoulders and moved out through my whole body.

We had no protection.

They could still do whatever they wanted to us. A horrible thought flickered through my mind, born from the sadistic nature I had seen in our captors.

What if they would torture Max in front of me?

He let go of my hands and brought his arms around me, pulling me up on his lap and hugging me close. I breathed in his smell and tried to will myself to let go of the fear. Otherwise it would immobilize me.

Our connection is our protection, he told me, nuzzling his nose against the thin sensitive skin behind my ear. Our connection is still alive.

He was right. I hadn't thought of that.

I frowned, putting my arms around his waist and inching closer. How?

I don't know, he replied. But it's our leverage. They might not even be aware of it.

That's why he was speaking to me telepathically. In case they were listening. In case they thought they had managed to silence the connection as well, if it had been connected to Max's abilities.

Apparently it wasn't, since the connection between us was still very much alive and kicking.

Max pulled back and pressed his forehead against mine. Looking up through his eyelashes at me, his mental voice was concerned as he stated questioningly, They did something to you.

His right arm left my back and ghosted over the tender injection site on my neck. How could he tell?

He used that same hand to brush my hair back and replied, You were almost unconscious - should have been unconscious - when they brought you here.

Of course. Of course he hadn't just assumed it was because I was tired or frightened.

"You smell different," he whispered.

A small tentative smile moved over my lips - the first one in days - at his clarification. It almost felt odd to smile, to have it play in the corners of my mouth as I narrowed my eyes at him. "I haven't showered in a couple of days."

His matching smile was just as wobbly as mine. "I don't mind that." His eyes brightened with the glimpse of life that they had been lacking. "I love how you smell."

I brought my hands up to have them run over his face and slowly trace the contours of his features. His cheekbones, the straight line of his nose. Letting the ends of his eyelashes tickle my fingertips. I had lost hope that I would ever be able to touch him again.

The playfulness I had only just started to experience around him - before we were taken - was slowly awakening. It was odd in the midst of our current situation, but I welcomed it. It was a piece of normalcy. I slowly dragged my right thumb along the partition between his lips and he pursed his lips around my thumb, kissing it slowly as I asked, "Buuut...?", my eyes fixed on his mouth, my body growing warm while positioned on his lap.

The smile that had hesitantly lingered on his face disappeared and he turned serious. "You smell like chemicals."

I swallowed, my own smile dying as quickly as one would blow out a candle.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes sad and deep. "And your colors are all wrong."

With his thoughts brushing through my mind, I consider what he was thinking, and my own previous observations and reflections, before I slowly reached a (slightly mind-blowing) realization.

"They were afraid of me."

My declaration was subdued and surprised, but his expression told me that he had reached the same conclusion.

"They drugged me because they were afraid of me."

He nodded and I frowned at the inconsistencies with that action. "But why wouldn't they just knock me out like before?"

He frowned, deep in thought, and I concentrated while trying to catch onto his mind process. After a lengthy pause, he hypothesized, "Maybe they've reached the conclusion that whatever you can do - through the connection - cannot be controlled by whatever is controlling my powers right now. So they needed a more human way of subduing it."

Silently, he added, They needed to suppress the connection from both sides. Mine, by turning off my powers. And yours, by pharmaceutically affecting the parts of your brain that might be involved in the connection.

It doesn't make sense...

What doesn't?

If they really reunited us to see what the bond could do, why would they attempt to repress it?

I think it's temporary. To be able to move you without the bond facilitating an escape on your part. He smiled weakly. To make sure you didn't hurt them.

I swallowed, thinking of the injection. "And it's still in my system?" Even though I felt fine now?

He nodded. "Yeah. It's there."

"So I can't utilize the connection anymore?" I frowned. Before he had a chance to answer, I added secretly, But why can we communicate like this then?

He gave me a knowing half-smile. Almost a triumphant one. Maybe they are wrong. Completely wrong. Because they think that they have 'turned off' not only your side of the connection, but also mine. Just by turning off my abilities.

This gave me some hope. That we might know something that our captors didn't.

I traced the blue beneath his eyes and felt the sadness run through me. But also the tendrils of hot anger.

"Please tell me," I said quietly. "Tell me what they did to-"

I didn't get any further than that. There was a metallic sound from the door and Max was pulling me to my feet before I had a chance to react to the instinctive adrenaline saturating my system.

Stay behind me, he ordered sharply while he took my hand in a tight grip and directed me behind his body. And don't even think about getting in front of me.

His command brought forward some of the Elizabeth Parker I had been just two weeks ago. The one that wanted to object and prove that I was standing on my own two feet. The one that couldn't accept that someone would order me around. Even if it was 'for my own good'.

I had a chance to reflect on his ability to speak to my inner nature, even when he didn't plan to, before I acquiesced to his directive. It was not a difficult thing to do, considering that the memory of me stepping in front of him and taking an alien 'bullet' for him, my dead weight falling back against his body, was being broadcasted in his mind (and mine) right that second.

A ray of yellow light created a line from the opening door to our feet. The light seeped more and more into the dark room as the door slowly opened.

I held onto Max's hand tightly and stepped closer to him, looking around his upper arm at the door. Without blinking.

It didn't come as a surprise that it was the Sergeant and his son who walked through the door. But it did come as a surprise - or rather, a shock - that the Sergeant was holding a gun. A black gun made by the human population. Aimed at us.

The light coming into the room from the open door, creating shadows across our visitors' faces, did nothing to hide the slow malicious smile that spread across the Sergeant's face as he announced, "You rang?"


TBC...

OK so maybe Max and Liz really are together. But I don't understand why. Something isn't adding up. Now the Sargent and Sean show up with a fricking gun! Max and Liz really must have these dumb ass aliens scared shitless!


Helen

Sorry first hunt only turned up a couple of aliens from Krypton trying to protect people. So on to the next hunt.

Great Chapter!!!! Please please please please please please please please please please come back and post more really really really really soon? I can't wait to find out what Max and Liz will do next. OK first off sorry for saying wanting to have Sean, Sargent, command and all evil Aliens like them hung by their dicks on a very high voltage electrical wire. That is how I really feel about Sean, Sargent, command and all evil aliens. Love the way Max and Liz are being together. And how protective Max is with Liz. Oh hell no what is Sean and the Sargent doing with a gun? What the hell is Max and Liz going to do now?


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L-J-L 76