Roswell Fanatics

oh yea.. and just about done rereading all of it again..

Yes!!! I'm BACK!!!!! Feels darn good to hit the Submit button as well

Thank you, thank you, thank you all for still coming back to read. As Timelord pointed out, it's been a long ride Alas, the next chapter is betaed and ready to go out in a few days, and the next after that is almost done. So things should speed a bit more now



Chapter 8
Worth It

January, 2006 – Upstate New York


1 : Jade

Extreme cold had not been a welcome surprise. Earth had so many temperature variations it wasn't even funny, especially during Guard duty. He was well beyond the point where Antar's climatic control was sorely missed, and as tiny snowflakes began to drift his way, he swore. If he didn't see snow for the rest of his life, it would be too soon. He was frozen to the depths of his every cell, and no matter what shape he took, he just couldn't shift out of cold.

At least His Majesty looked thoroughly happy.

Laughter echoed in the woods as Liz yelled, "No powers!" while she aimed a well-compacted snowball and hit right on target. Zan kept coming for her.

They'd been like this for the past three days.

Free.

Since the Guard had arrived on Earth, all they had read about their charges was that they moved together. How much they stuck to each other and, even now when they were allowed to travel, they didn’t venture too far, much less alone. Today, though, today it was all about Zan and Liz, a fact that the two of them were taking advantage of. Jade had never seen a couple so in love. He wondered if Zan and Ava had been as happy, too.

The house they were staying in tried to disguise itself as a cabin, but nothing that size could be called that. It tried to say with its wooden exterior that it was rough and uncivilized, but one look at the fireplace, the plush rug and the kitchen—not to mention the bedroom—and that illusion quickly disappeared. The only true thing about its appearance was that it was isolated.

It belonged to Susseth, that redhead who made Luke nervous because she dealt with matters close enough to the king to be a liability. It had been a gift from Dave three years ago in an attempt to convince his assistant to take vacation time—and do something with it besides work—but it still looked brand new. It was one of Ray's emergency shelters in the area, as well, which meant it was secure. It was one less worry for Jade and his fellow shifters.

They were rotating their duty hours, with three shifters guarding at all times. Somewhere, out there, Jet and Ash were sharing this view with him. In a hidden room in the basement, Violet was sleeping.

"Sometimes, I wonder if it's worth it," Jet said behind Jade's tree, taking a human shape, his clothing and skin the color of bark. From this distance, he was virtually invisible to the Royal pair.

"He's worth it," Jade said with absolute confidence, his eyes following the couple as they went in circles around a small tree.

Out of all of them, Jet was the pessimistic one. It was as if a dark cloud were always around him. The fact that he'd been working in Khivar's army still made everyone nervous. They had all been engineered for that, Jade reminded himself, they had all been designed to be soldiers. Except Jet actually liked it, he thought uneasily as he took human form as well. It was nice to stop pretending to be a tree-trunk, that was for sure.

"Not him, but this. We're going to take this from him," Jet elaborated, "the snow, and the laughter and the freedom."

And Liz, Jade thought privately.

No matter how hard he tried to picture it, Jade couldn't imagine a future in which Zan would allow his wife to go into a war-torn planet, where he was a wanted fugitive, where a rebellion would blow out in all directions once he arrived on Antar. No, in Jade's mind, when the time came for Zan to make a choice, he would go alone. He would go while hoping she would wait for him.

"What would you have us do?" Ash asked, shifting on the opposite side of the tree. "Snatch him right now, lock him up in a spaceship, and hope he wants to rule after overthrowing the usurper?"

"He won't stay," Jet said quietly, his breath condensing in the cold air. "Because of her, he won't stay on Antar."

Jade's heart ached. They were guarding Antar's future King, risking their lives, keeping their hope alive, but none of it would matter if, at the end of all things, Zan was still thinking of himself as Max.

"He'll remember," Ash argued back. "He'll remember his people, and he'll fight with us, and he'll understand. He'll choose us."

Jet remained silent. That black cloud of his drifted over Ash and Jade as well as the three kept their watch on their King and, for all intents and purposes, their Queen.

"He's worth it," Jade repeated a minute later, as Zan finally caught Liz at the waist and spun her around, her laughter ringing too loud in their ears. "And this is worth it. He'll need these moments to sustain him when Earth won't be anything more than memories of the past."


2 : Max

He'd been dreaming of Antar again. It was disorienting to wake up out of those dreams into the peaceful quiet of his bedroom, with Liz resting on his chest. She said his heartbeat helped her sleep. The sight of her helped him stay calm. Anchored him to his present self.

Sometimes, he would wake up in the middle of the night, just like tonight, and he would grieve for Zan, and all he had lost. A kingdom, a planet. His family. Max couldn't regret that, exactly, because all that had happened had led to Liz sleeping in his arms tonight, but he recognized that a lot of people had lost their lives to get Zan here.

It would have humbled Zan to know that. He hadn't thought he was worth it.

And for the longest time I didn't think I could have this, Max thought, absently caressing Liz's back, her hair falling on her side. He loved that hair. He loved knowing he could touch it whenever he felt like it. Antar with its palaces and guards and power had no lure for him.

Sometimes, he would wake up and think that he was still dreaming. That he'd never left that white hell and his mind had taken refuge in this make-believe life. Or maybe he'd died and this was what Heaven looked like for him. With all the craziness and strangeness of his life, this was what he wanted. This was his dream come true.

Zan would have gone crazy waiting here. The thought of Khivar on his throne, ruling his people… This exile would have been the worst kind of torture. And Max was not stupid. There was a very distinct possibility that someday he would be faced with the fact that an entire world was counting on him to come back. For him to play Zan.

In some bizarre way, it was as if he'd been Zan's twin, and now he was asked to take on his brother's life, piecing it together from what little he knew, while everyone was fooled into believing he was the real deal.

No, if anything, the fact that Antar felt distant while Earth felt his home should be proof enough that Zan did not lurk in the back of his mind. That he dreaded the day when he would be expected to return certainly was proof enough for him. To know the differences between them kept Max sane, and helped him cope with the vivid hallucinations that came from time to time. They were memories, but not his memories. Not his life.

And yet… he couldn't find the right moment to tell Liz all of this. That she would doubt that he was Max despite Zan's memories sent a chill down his spine. He'd been lost for so long trying to define what was human and what was alien about him, that going through all that again kept bringing up unwanted memories and feelings better left buried. He didn't want to feel 17 again, or have Liz thinking that after all that had happened between them, he still had a duty to his destiny and the people who had brought him here.

He didn't think he could survive that a second time.

She stirred in his arms, probably sensing his turmoil and despair. Quieting the doubts in his mind, Max watched her as she murmured something and then settled in again. He sighed inwardly. Letting these thoughts eat away his peace of mind was not healthy, and certainly not fair to Liz. He knew he was not Zan, and that certainty would have to be good enough for both of them.

One day he would tell her. One day when none of this was weighing on his head, when he no longer cared about Zan's past. One day he would share with her the wonders of another world, and the royal intrigues of the palace. One day, surely, but not today. That he loved her and she loved him back was all that mattered now.

If there was any lesson at all in Zan's life, it was to seize the present, because no matter how wonderful it was, there was no such thing as a certain future. Not even for kings.


3 : Jake
February 23, 2006 – The Compound

"Aaaaand that's a new record, ladies and gentlemen," Jake said as Max's green shield disintegrated, pressing the stop button on the watch in his hand. Max faintly smiled as he let himself fall on the couch. He was sweating and breathing hard, and in obvious need of some water.

"It didn't feel like a new record," he said while Jake opened the mini-fridge, fishing for a strawberry Gatorade.

"Two whole minutes more than last time," Jake explained, throwing the Gatorade in a nice arch. Max caught it without a problem. And that's a 100% in reflexes after exhausting yourself, too. These tiny details he didn't say out loud. Max might appreciate the little tests Jake kept doing without their knowledge, but Michael wouldn't. So it was easier to keep his mouth shut, than to be telling Max one thing and Michael another. “You reached eleven minutes of a consistent force field, and about 20 seconds of declining strength.

“I wouldn’t know, after the six minute mark everything becomes a blur,” Max said between drinking the first half of the bottle, and drinking the second part. He trashed the empty container by throwing it to the trash in another display of perfect aim.

Jake sat down on the table in front of Max, handling him a towel. “Make sure Michael knows that.”

Max chuckled. “I did. He said if he hasn’t gotten us out after six minutes, we’re as good as dead.”

“Charming,” Jake mused.

“Practical,” Max corrected, using the towel to wipe out the sweat from the back of his neck. “Ray certainly agreed.”

“What about you?” Jake asked.

“What about what? If I can’t improve my timing in a meaningful way, they’re right. I’ll become a liability if I can’t keep up with the escape plan. I have to get better.” Max sighed in a tired way. “I gotta admit, it was better when I had a full guard of shapeshifters and they had to worry about this.”

Jake’s heart skipped a happy beat. It was the first time Max brought the subject about his past memories with humor.

“Your time off did you good,” Jake said with approval. Max nodded, smiling slowly.

“We needed to get away for a while,” Max agreed, his eyes going to the monitor that was showing his light-blue signature. There had been a time when none of them liked that screen at all. Now it was an accurate measure of how much energy they were using. “They haven’t stopped—the vivid memories,” he confessed. “But I’m not as disoriented when I come out of them. I’ve been dreaming about Antar a lot, though. Not about the war or how we died. Just… glimpses of it. Everyday things. Makes me feel sorry for Zan, actually. That he lost so much.”

"For what is worth," Jake said, "he had an extraordinary life, sure, but no one beats yours. Being an alien and all," he elaborated when Max frowned.

"First contact and special powers, huh?" Max said with half a smile. Being an alien was not a happy part of being Max, Jake knew. Just like being a genius had robbed much of Jake's life as well. It did make them unique, and with the right perspective—like Dave's—it could make one feel special in a good way.

"I can't imagine what being king must feel like," Jake said, thoughtful. In so many ways, Jake's and Dave's lives had been so out of the norm they were as much in an exclusive club as kings were. But there was no comparison, really. To be born for the express purpose of ruling, of having people's lives in one's hands…

"It wasn't as much fun as I would have thought," Max said, standing up. "Do you have any ideas how I can improve my awareness after six minutes?"

And that was that. Something about talking about Zan always made Max uncomfortable, which Jake could understand. There was good reason why Jake and Dave never talked about their past—and they didn't have to deal with half-remembered identities in another planet.

"Besides training? Not really," Jake said when Max nodded. "If anything, maybe you should start training with Ray with the assumption that six minutes is all you've got."

Five years later, trapped in a car in the middle of Manhattan, Max would remember those exact words.

I'm so happy to see you back with another part! I'm always excited to read this story and it's great to hear that more is coming soon.
The opening of this story made me smile. Poor Jade, adjusting to life on Earth has been hard for these shapeshifters, and getting used to snow is just one more hurdle for them! Max and Liz free of their usual stresses and just having fun. It's a wonderful moment, but seeing it through the shapeshifter's eyes really changes its emphasis. Their belief that Max will one day choose Antar over Liz and that moments like this will someday exist only in his memories makes their happiness seem very fragile.
It's fascinating hearing the shapeshifters talk about their own hopes and fears. and they all centre around Max. Watching him with Liz, they know what they're going to ask him to give up, but they have to believe that in the end he'll act as they believe that Zan would act. They only refer to him as Zan, as if they can make him into who they want him to be by sheer force of will. It just brings it home more than ever that the question of who Max is, where Zan's memories fit into his life and what influence they'll have on him is crucial for everyone around him, not just for Van and the shapeshifters, but for Dave and of course, for Liz.
Max's fear of telling Liz about his memories of Zan is understandable, but feels dangerous.
What would his memories of Zan mean for her, would she really want him to follow a destiny that led him back to Antar? I somehow think we`re going to find out before the end of this story and Max won`t have the luxury of telling her at a time of his choosing. In any event, hiding what's happening from her when it's important enough to make him question his own identity doesn't seem likely to end well. It makes me wonder how that omission will play into the present timeline.
The shapeshifters' longing for Zan is a great lead into Max's thoughts about Zan's resurfacing memories. It just underlines how difficult this question of his own identity is for Max. I love the idea that Max looks at Zan as a brother whose life he`s being asked to take on. It`s a great way of looking at it, and also, in a very real sense, Van is going to face Max with exactly that choice. As Max`s actual brother, he`s asking Max to take on, in effect, the life that Van`s led, leading the fight against Khivar
These scenes also bring home how constantly Max (and I guess Michael and Isabel) are observed and analysed. Even in a moment of apparent freedom, like playing in the snow, he`s under constant observation, the shapeshifters taking apart his every action to try and find meaning in them. in the lab with Jake he knows he`s being studied and has agreed to it, but even Jake who he`s come to consider a friend is devising tests that study him in more depth than he realises. But even with all these careful observations and constant study, none of them can tell what Max will do when he`s faced with making the choice between Liz and Earth and Antar.
.

Misha wrote:Jake's and Dave's lives had been so out of the norm they were as much in an exclusive club as kings were. But there was no comparison, really. To be born for the express purpose of ruling, of having people's lives in one's hands…

Dave may not be a king, exactly, but contrary to what Jake thinks, isn`t this exactly what Dave`s made his life into? He`s had all of the Roswell group`s lives in his hands for eight years, and not just their lives, but the lives of a whole host of people who work for him or have accepted his offers. Dave has much more in common with Zan than Max Evans does. When they finally have that discussion about what Dave`s been doing these last eight years, will he be talking to Zan or Max?
As ever, there's lots to think about! Now I can`t wait for the next part. What will happen in the car to make Max remember Jake`s words? And who was shooting at who down in the subway? I'm so looking forward to jumping back to the present time and finding out what will happen next. Thank you for this great update, Alix

Couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the update, but I am so pleased.
Max is really confused with these memories of Zan's........I'm worried about how it will all turn out.
Thanks for thenew part,
Carolyn

a little short then usual but we did need a chapter. Really hope more is coming soon

As promised, here's the next part

Thank you all for coming back to read, and special thanks to those who reviewed! You feed the Muse!

xilaj, I think I love you. I'll come back tomorrow to discuss your review in detail, but THANK YOU!! The Muse approves

keepsmiling, I know! I knoooow! The Muse keeps feeding plot bunnies of all sizes and colors and she loses the main stories! Alas, here we are

Timelord! May the length of this chapter suffice





Chapter Nine
Diversion

November 2nd, 2011 – New York


1 : Dave

Someone came for him. He’d honestly thought McKay was going to leave him in that room with two chairs and a metal table—at least until he started to fall asleep. Instead, not even half an hour had passed since the head of the Special Unit had left him alone, leaving Dave not knowing if Max was dead or alive.

The Agent who came to collect him was tall, thin, and young. He deftly opened the cuffs, grabbed him to stand up, and replaced the cuffs, securing Dave’s wrists behind his back. Dave gripped the inhaler, wondering if it was going to be taken. Instead, the agent didn’t say anything, and neither did Dave. This was business as usual. Had this boy known that Dave had had a hand on disappearing all the senior staff, he might have treated him differently.

The door opened with a buzz, and out into the hall they went.

The facility wasn’t exactly state of the art. The walls were made of concrete, and the security panel that closed the door to his holding cell behind them was laughable at best. Because this place was in the heart of Manhattan, it was probably more of a temporary holding facility than an actual prison. Safety would be a priority, yes, but it seemed funding hadn’t been one.

Black balls on the ceiling along their route told him he was being watched through security cameras. With their ongoing mission of apprehending Max, Dave knew he was not a priority right now. The thing was, how could he use that to his advantage? Ray had taught him well, he just had to wait for the right opportunity.

First things first, Dave thought, the handcuffs biting into his skin. He tripped accidentally-on-purpose and awkwardly fell to the floor. Tall-Thin-Young Agent tried to break his fall and failed, the asthma inhaler shattering on impact right below Dave. The agent grabbed Dave by the arm, and roughly hauled him upright.

Stalling and stumbling, Dave grabbed the tiny, metal spring out of the broken pieces, thinking it ironic that the inhaler kept saving his life in more than one way. He leaned on the wall, getting the metallic piece blindly into position in his hand.

“Keep walking,” the youngster ordered.

“Give me a sec, that hurt,” Dave said, panting, his hands masterfully positioning the broken piece into the lock and using it to open the handcuffs. In his early training, he would take under 8 seconds to open them. He wasn’t as fast now—he hadn’t been practicing as he should—but his mind remembered all the turns and twists. It was his wrist that didn’t want to turn and twist as much as he needed it to.

“Keep. Walking.” This time it was a threat.

He felt the handcuff opening, and almost let it fall. He was getting too old for this kind of thing, he decided, as the Agent gave him the evil eye. Dave started walking again, the remnants of the inhaler left behind, lying on the floor.

They arrived at an electrical door with a touchscreen, and the Agent made him stand looking at the opposite wall. He punched in the code, and waited for the door to open. And waited. And waited. Cursing under his breath, he punched it in again. The tone of each individual key gave Dave the exact code, and he wondered for the millionth time why people would assign key tones to password keypads.

There was a beep, and the light changed from red to green but the door didn’t open. This time, Dave did turn to look at the control panel. It could very well be a malfunction. It could very well be his cue. The agent punched in the code a third time—5 3 0 5 0 2—and finally the door opened.

Dave’s eyes went to the camera on the ceiling as the agent grabbed his arm once more and then, glancing at the panel, Dave saw a message displayed on the touch screen:

Now Dave.

He didn’t think it beyond that. With his hands free, he grabbed the agent and smashed his head against the wall. The kid retaliated with an elbow to his ribs, while Dave kneed him on the stomach. On and on they went, for what felt like hours but in reality was less than three minutes. His jailer lay on the floor, unconscious, and Dave fleetingly thought that he really wasn’t that thin.

He expected to hear alarms any moment now, but they never came. He went back to the screen and it was blank. You couldn’t say something more useful? Dave thought, looking once more up and thinking the cameras must be either down, or controlled by someone on his side.

There were two other checkpoints, he remembered, and had no idea how he was going to get through. He started typing away on the control panel before thirty seconds had gone by. Codes were a piece of cake if only he had enough time to get into the system. If someone was sending him a message, maybe he could try to get more information that way.

He didn’t exactly find his mystery texter. Instead, he found the security protocols for all the entries and emergency exits. Bingo.

Before another minute went by, Dave’s plan was in motion. Alarms started to blare all over the place, the ones that ordered all non-essential personal out. Bending over the unconscious agent, he took the ID card and a second later, he took the jacket off. It wasn’t a perfect match, but it would do. Dave was already wearing black trousers and a white shirt, so all he needed to do was to not look like an escapee.

He arrived at the second check point, where another control panel waited for him. On the other side of the glass door, people walked in an orderly manner, all leaving the building. All thinking that no prisoner would be able to pass the door without knowing the codes. Well, he did know them now, and he was just about—

The door opened on its own. He hadn’t even so much as glanced at the panel. That someone was helping him escape out was no secret by this point, but for just a fraction of a second, he doubted how trustworthy that someone was.

Ray, he thought as he started walking, looking as orderly as the personnel leaving the place. Ray was the only one who could move this fast, though Dave had to give Ray credit. This was way faster than Dave would have anticipated without guiding the operation himself. He briefly wondered how many Network Keepers Ray had enlisted to get this done.

He went through the last checkpoint by swiping the Agent’s ID card. Somewhere, he was sure McKay knew this was all because of Dave. He grinned a cat’s grin when he reached the street. Looking right and left, he didn’t see any obvious escape routes, so he started walking to his right, wanting to get lost within the crowd.

He hadn’t walked even ten paces when someone blared a horn. A black, classic Porsche approached slowly, and a window came down. Dave expected to see Ray, but instead, a twenty-four-year-old Daniel was waiting for him. This was the one and only hacker who’d ever broken into Dave’s deepest domains. This was the kid who’d played cat and mouse for months until Dave had finally turned the tables. This was the only known Keeper who had voluntarily given up Dave’s codes and left the Network Keepers.

Of course, Dave thought, moving to get into the passenger seat, this explains the speed those doors opened. Daniel had freed Dave. Dear old Daniel who had wanted nothing to do with him after years of working under his shadow. He wasn’t just the only one who had broken his codes, he was the only other person who had had access to the Antar files, and although Daniel had denied he’d ever really gone farther than just breaking the codes, it was just too much of a coincidence that on the day Antar’s rebel leader was here, Danny had decided to pop up.

“You know,” Dave said, closing the door. Daniel just smiled and, pressing the accelerator, left the Unit—and McKay—way behind.


2 : Max

He hadn't been followed in a long, long time, and although the feeling that he was being watched had persisted all these years, knowing his enemies were out there—human or Antarian—paralyzed Max for a moment. The shapeshifter who had taken his form in the seat in front looked as worried as Max felt. It was the most bizarre mirror he'd ever had.

In front of him, Van and his other self exchanged grim looks. Their small limo was standing still in the middle of traffic, leaving them easy targets.

"How many?" Van asked, his calm demeanor gone, his eyes turning to Zan, maybe to check he was as unharmed as he'd been ten seconds ago. His eyes became darker, harder.

"Five," the other Max answered. "Unit men. They might be setting an ambush not much further away. Maybe on the next block."

Cold invaded Max's body at the sudden mention of the Special Unit. He was ready to accept that the Skins were probably back in his life as much as Khivar was by now, but this… How is it possible that I fear humans more than aliens? he fleetingly thought, getting a grip on himself. He'd been training for this for eight years, and the first lesson was "don't panic".

"We have to get Zan out of here," Van said without skipping a beat, his aura of authority growing exponentially as he took the role of leader. "Four Guard shifters and the two of us are in this car,” Van explained, “This is Ash, who will keep your form at all times. Violet will take Liz’s. We'll use the interdimensional shifter to cover our exit. The shield will be good for a fifteen foot radius, Zan, but once we're out of its range, we'll become visible again in this time-dimension space. Three of the Guards will take the right with you, one visible, two camouflaged. Jet and I will take the left, creating a diversion and protecting your retreat."

In his mind, Max pictured the car, suddenly empty from their hunters' perspective, just for the occupants to reappear in the sidewalk out of thin air a minute later. Fifteen feet was not that much, though.

"I can help with the diversion," Max started, turning to look at the cars behind them through the tainted window.

"I know you can, but I won't risk you," Van answered.

"Where are they? The tails?" Max asked, directing his questions to the shifter in front, Ash. he looked at Max surprised, and Max realized that this shifter had never been ordered by a king, never had the compulsion to do as Max said. Max didn't want this kind of power, he'd already abused it once with Langley, and that was a lesson in humility if there ever was one.

"The black sedan four cars to your right and behind. And the white van, three cars in front of us, my King," he answered, for one moment looking at Van, and then back to Zan, waiting.

"Be the decoy, Ash" Van interrupted, impatient eyes looking outside. "Go out, see if they follow you. In thirty seconds I'll activate the interdimensional shifter. A minute after that, we'll abandon the car. Violet?" he asked, making a new shifter appear beside Max. One who took Liz's form as Van had said. Max’s heart slammed in his chest.

"Yes, sir?" she said in perfect Liz's voice.

"Get ready. You'll leave with Zan once recognition is achieved. Take him to headquarters by the fastest route available. If all else fails, that's our best defense."

The two shapeshifters looked at each other—a perfect replica of Max and Liz—nodded once, and then the door opened, and out his doppelganger went. Violet took the vacated seat, getting a better view of what was happening outside.

"Be ready," she whispered to him, both watching Ash casually walk to the sidewalk, going against the traffic. They were all holding their breath.

Max saw them then, right where Ash had told him: One man got out of the black sedan, and one more came on foot from the other side. That left the sedan driver accounted for as well. Three, and the fourth and fifth ones up front in the van.

A group of Japanese tourists were between "Max" and the feds, enthusiastically chatting while their cameras flashed non-stop.

"Ten seconds," Van said.

The tourists passed the shapeshifter and then… he was gone. The unit men were as startled as Max felt, and soon they were running towards the store where the alien had last stood.

The three agents converged in the same spot, and then turned as one to look at the car. Max's heart skipped a beat, cold sweat going down his back. If they caught him—

"Now," came Van's voice, along with a shimmering green field, very much like Max's own. The whole city went eerily quiet as they were left inside the dimensional bubble. For a moment, Max felt himself relax. In here, he couldn't be trapped.

"If only we weren't vulnerable to the Skins," Van muttered, following Max's own line of thought. That must be the reason why they selected the Empire State building, higher ground is easier to defend, Max thought, the sound of the door opening catching his attention.

"Your Majesty," Violet said, waiting for him to step out first. Yet another thing he did not like about being the king: the title, the deference, the importance. At least back in the real world, his family, friends and Dave treated him no differently than they would treat each other.

Van opened his own door and stepped outside as Max did. How come he doesn't get addressed any differently?

"We'll be waiting for you," Violet said to Van, and then turned to look at Max. "This way, please."

"What are you going to do?" Max asked Van, not yet following Liz's twin.

"I'm going to light things up. Now go."

Max frowned, but started walking all the same. Fifteen feet was barely distance enough to get his mind in order and get ready to escape. Violet took a hold of his hand with the same familiarity Liz would, whether for authenticity or to make sure he was not going to be left behind, he couldn’t tell

"Are you sure we're not going to walk into the middle of someone?" Max asked as they reached two parked cars.

"Yes," she said, walking straight ahead as another flash of green greeted them, New York City once again filled with life, noise and people. To say it was disorienting was an understatement.

One of these days someone is going to explain how exactly this thing works.

He felt it then. Liz. For one second, it was a crystal clear connection that made time slow down. He automatically turned to look ahead, following their bond.

In front of him, the shifter's brown hair was flying in all directions as a cold gust of air hit them. She had been instructed to go right, and she pulled him in that direction. He could either follow Van's plan, or go straight ahead and follow his own heart, but not until he knew for certain where all the Unit men were. Violet turned to him, feeling his turmoil, and smiled Liz's smile.

"We need to hurry," she said playfully, though the meaning was not lost to him.

"Do you know what Van is going to do?" he asked as they walked down the sidewalk, firmly holding her to his left, protecting her from the open. She walked a few steps ahead, turning to look at him as she walked backwards.

"He's probably going to blow up the car."

"What? "

"That's how he usually does it on Antar. Now, if you don't mind, we have to move this way before the men in the van notice us."

Max's heart sank. The white van was between him and his wife, who was probably coming out of the subway entrance. He brought Violet close. "Liz is coming this way, from the subway exit."

Her smile barely faltered as she understood he wasn't kidding. "Well, my King, that seems to be a problem, doesn't it?"

There can't be two of you, Max quickly thought, walking towards the underground stairs. If he was fast enough, maybe he could catch Liz before she came out. Get her out of danger. His hands tingled with barely controlled power.

In public, the use of their powers was risky, to say the least, but not entirely ruled out. With thousands of potential witnesses and hundreds of cameras rolling in a busy street in New York City, the risk of exposure was exponentially higher. Never mind that, Ray had said once, leave the cleanup to Dave. He's good at it.

Now was a good time to test that theory.

"Ash," she said, as if the shapeshifter was right in front of them. Maybe he was. "Go intercept our lovely queen before—"

She never quite finished.

Before Violet yanked him towards the wall and the scant shelter of a building entrance, Max got a glimpse of Liz, coming out of the subway exit as he'd thought, followed by another someone who looked remarkably like himself.

"Sniper! " Violet hissed, grabbing him and placing herself between him and the threat.

Max extended his hand, his green shield looking eerie with the orange light from the sunset. Bullets started to bounce against it before any onlooker had time to ogle his display of alien fireworks. Four, five, six bullets ricocheted, the echo of the shots being half-drowned by the traffic noises, but not enough that people wouldn't notice.

Men and women froze in place for one instant as their flight or fight instinct kicked in. It was when the car exploded that all hell broke loose.

Years of studying escape tactics had set in stone the need to keep calm, but Max’s heart was torn in two as he first turned to look at the flames coming out of the car he'd vacated not two minutes ago, and then to the subway entrance people were fleeing into. Liz!

She wasn't in sight.

Yet Liz's twin had other ideas. She was pushing him quite strongly through the door where they had taken shelter. She was stronger than Liz ever would be. Someone opened the door of the store beside them, either to look or to help, he didn't know. Violet didn't stop to ask.

She pushed the older man wordlessly, and practically dragged Max inside, the second-hand clothing store being almost empty. Two teenage girls were scrambling to get past them, phones already out, eager to record the events outside.

The store was virtually deserted by the time Max turned around, the smoke of the car clearly visible through the window.

"Wait! What about Van?" he asked, his heart racing a million miles per minute. She had no option but to obey his command, standing still as her eyes both pleaded and were frustrated with him.

"Van left the car a minute after we did, you just didn't notice. That," she answered, signaling with her left hand the car while her right one was still holding him tightly, "is our diversion. We cannot waste it."

Of course. Max had been taught how to do this, but never had actually needed to do it. Van, on the other hand, had been doing this his whole life. And so had his shapeshifters.

Sirens started to sound, people running and shouting. The blast had shattered windows, and as Max looked outside, he saw Van walking away from the explosion. For one second he felt relieved. The Unit, the Skins, the whole thing would make sense once they had time to sit down somewhere safe. He felt relieved Van hadn't been harmed. His hopes died a moment later when he saw where Van was going: towards the Agents.

"Sir, I really need us to keep moving," Violet said, trying to be both respectful and urgent. She followed his sight and frowned. "What is he doing?"

Nothing short of suicidal.

Silently, she still pulled him out of the window. Somewhere, nearby, he could feel Liz's fear rising. He had to go to her. It wasn't safe here, not with the Unit and soon police coming to the area. Van had provided the perfect escape, and that was all that mattered.

"He's well-guarded," she argued in Liz's logical tone. "And it's not him they want."

Max was already moving, but hearing those words, so harsh yet so true, left his stomach feeling empty. It was him they wanted, who they would always want. The reason everything happened. The reason why Van was walking towards his pursuers, with ideas of retribution and justice in his head.

Violet didn't leave him much time to think. They went through the store's labyrinth of back doors, until they finally came out into an alley. She was walking in front of him, cautious eyes looking at everything at once. It was so bizarre to see Liz doing that, even if he knew it was really a shapeshifter. It was stranger still to look at her and feel the real Liz further away.

Shots started again, and both he and Violet stopped.

Liz!

His heart was in his throat as he yanked Violet back towards the street they had just vacated.

"Zan!" she said in astonishment, obviously not understanding his desire to dive back into danger. He was unstoppable, even when his second Guard materialized in front of him, wearing his same face and trying to block him. Max didn't have the heart to order him away, but he was more than willing to do it when it came to Liz's safety.

"Move!" he all but shouted, a dizzy spell hitting him hard enough to slow him down to almost a standstill. The shifter took it as a sign that he was willing to wait and listen.

"Zan," he said, grabbing him by the shoulder, "Van has just been shot."

Wow.....packed with action and danger!
It's funny that Max feared the humans more than aliens......
Violet, the Liz look alike saved him.......
But will Liz be safe..??
Hurry back.
Carolyn

great chapter..

All caught up again...and what an update

Kate

Thank you guys for your reviews!

Timelord, glad this one was to your tastes

keepsmiling, nothing like a good explosion to keep things moving

katydid, thanks for catching up! It's always nice to see familiar names

xilaj, one really has to wonder what do the Rebels expect from Zan, and how would the shifters rationalize their hopes with what's clearly in front of them: that Max loves his life here, and has little reason to want to go back. They have to believe whatever necessary to not abandon their post and head home.

We know Max's fears are unfounded -Liz will love him no matter what- but we also know that Max believed that back in season 2, and how it all crumbled down. Better safe than sorry, and keep this whole thing with Zan's memories to himself. They don't mean anything in his relationship with Liz. Yet at the back of his mind, he knows something's wrong.

Van's been preparing himself for a long time to have Zan in his life, but he doesn't really know what to expect. Zan hasn't lived in war-torn Antar, and all Van has are other people's accounts of who his brother was. I think like Tess, Van is in love with the idea of Zan, despite of who Max might be now.

I think the difference that Jake sees between Dave and Jake is that Max was born a king, and will have a planet under his rule, regardless of how good or bad he is. Dave chose his path, and chooses who he's willing to help or leave behind. And the moment Dave wants out, he can just disappear. Max doesn't have that luxury.