Roswell Fanatics

Title: No Rhyme or Reason
Author: Me Kippy1932@aol.com
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the show, actors, writers, producers, network, or characters in Roswell. I only wish I did. The songs used in Part Eight are "Without Letting Go" by Laurie Sargent and "What Do I Have To Do?" by Stabbing Westward. The song used in the end is "You're Gone" by matchbox twenty.
Summary: Max's life begins to fall apart as Isabel and Michael's starts to come together and something happens that threatens to wreck all six people's lives.
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: TEEN
Authors Note: Fifth installment of my series ("Not So Secret Admirer", "Get in the Game", "The Walls Come Crumbling Down", "Walking Away" – following this are “Learning to Live Again”, “Choices”, and “Gone ‘til November”)



He still couldn't believe he had done it. It was 7:30 in the morning but Max had done anything but close his eyes. The moment he closed them he saw Liz's face, stunned and hurt. He hadn't even given her an explanation, he had just left her. He thought about Liz showing up on his doorstep doing the exact same thing to him. He wished there were some way for her to understand what he was going through - the confused way he felt inside about everything.

He sat up on his bed, a quiet numbness about him. He was numb to everything, oblivious to everything, even his mothers shouts up to him from the kitchen.

"Max! I made pancakes," her voice sounded but Max didn't hear it. He heard something, but he processed nothing. The door flung open suddenly.

"Max!" Isabel's voice called from the doorway, but Max didn't budge, he didn't even acknowledge her presence. "Max," she called again, then angry yet at the same time worried, she walked over to him and called again. His facial expression hadn't changed at all, he had the same blank look on his face, the same dead look in his eyes. "Max, answer me!" she yelled, growing concerned and Max just blinked his eyes slowly, staring off into space.

"I'll be down," he uttered slowly and softly yet he wondered if he actually had the strength to get up from where he rested on the bed, whether he had the energy to walk downstairs, face his parents, have them ask about his night with Liz last night. It seemed so long ago that he had gone out with Liz, so long ago that they had both been happy. The night had just started on a simple dinner date. Liz had been happy, he for the most part had been happy. It was when he returned home and he began to think about everything that the doubts and the horrible thoughts crawled back into his mind.

"Max - look at me!" Isabel cried again, his soft response not doing anything to assuage her concern and fears.

"I'll be down," he replied again but didn't stir from his position on the bed
and he glanced to his sister out of the corner of his eye and it was then that Isabel detected the emotion that had been absent from his face in his eye. It was something with Liz. Something bad. "Just leave me alone."
Mrs. Evans set down the stacked plate of pancakes in the middle of the table as Isabel pulled out her chair and sat down. Both she and her husband looked to their daughter. "Is he coming?" she inquired and Isabel just nodded her head.

"He said he was," she merely nodded, leaving out the part about his appearance and the way he had ignored her until she was screaming into his ear. No sooner had she sat down then Max came trudging over to the table. His feet felt like dead weight, just picking them up took so much energy.

"Max isn't that what you wore yesterday?" his mother broke the quiet silence as they all watched him walk slowly over to his chair and sit down. "Were you up all night?" she questioned again, then looking at his still damp jeans continued her interrogation. "Were you outside in the rain?" Max couldn't deal with this right now, being under attack from his mother, the stare he was getting from his father.

"I went for a walk," he nearly whispered placing his napkin on his lap. Neither parent reacted to the comment at first and Isabel just kept her mouth shut. She knew something was amiss with her brother, more specifically with her brother and Liz but she left the issue quiet. If Max wanted to talk he would. It seemed both parents felt the same way because Mr. Parker immediately shifted the topic of conversation to Isabel.

"So Izzy? Who is this Alex character who keeps calling?" he asked as he poured syrup over his pancakes, smiling broadly. He and his wife were both used to taking messages for Isabel from boys, Alex was a bit more persistent however, he called much more frequently. Not to mention the fact that when they told her Alex was on the phone she actually took the call. Isabelle blushed slightly.

"No one..Alex is, he's just a friend," she attempted to dismiss, pouring orange juice into her glass.

"Isn't he the boy who picked you up for school the other day?" Mrs. Evans
questioned and again Isabel's cheeks began to flush. The conversation immediately turned to Isabel, about her life and no questions were steered towards Max, who sat with an untouched pancake on his plate and was in much the same manner he had been when he came to the table. He looked blankly across the table, and though they tried not to, both parents found themselves looking at Max worriedly. At the way that out of nowhere his face would tighten up and his mouth would begin to quiver. He swallowed suddenly, as if to be suppressing a cry, all the while staring out at nothing and sitting upright in his chair.

"Max is everything okay?" his mother finally couldn't help but question and he glanced to her out of the corner of his eye, just as he had to Isabel. And just like Isabel his mother could detect all the pain in that tiny glance that he wasn't revealing on his face. He swallowed again, and the look on his face almost seemed to be one of discomfort.

"I'm fine," he managed to say weakly and he shifted his eyes back to the emptiness he'd been staring at before. "I'm fine," he lied.



It took Liz hours to fall asleep and when she had it wasn't even a peaceful sleep. She had fortunately not had any disturbing dreams at least not any that she remembered, but she'd woken up so many times throughout the night. She did remember that she'd gotten the feeling that she'd been watched last night. Sometime around daybreak she'd awoken with the all too familiar feeling of someone's eyes on her. It had taken her a while to fall asleep but after a while the feeling became somewhat comforting. Almost soothing.

She sat awake on her bed now. It was close to noon and she'd just woken up less than a half hour ago. She never slept this late and when questioned by her parents about it she merely responded that she had gotten in late last night. Out with Max? her father had kidded her and at the comment she was unable to even fake a smile. Before he could even get around to asking what time she'd gotten in, Liz excused herself back up to her room. And that was where she remained.

At this point she was confused as to how she should feel She felt like she had cried more than she thought it had been possible to cry last night. At first her overwhelming instinct had been to call Maria and cry over the phone to her, but she had simply sat alone in her room and hugged her knees to her chest crying to herself while thousands of thoughts raced through her head. Should she be upset at Max? Angry? Should she be depressed? Should she have given in so easily last night? Should she have tried to kiss him one last time, have tried to make him remember all that he'd be giving up? Should she have chased after him? Should she be over there right now pleading with him to reconsider instead of sitting in her room with her knees pulled in to her chest? Was this going to be a continuing thing for her now? Was this how her life was supposed to be now without Max?

She simply sat and stared and the thoughts raced through her mind. Her eyes rested on the plastic bag of chocolate covered Gummi Bears Max had bought for her only three days ago. She remembered her reaction when he had first given them to her. He had delivered them to her out of nowhere Wednesday afternoon after basketball practice. She had made a face when he told her what they were. She liked chocolate and she liked Gummi Bears but the idea of them together didn't appeal to her too much. In fact it sounded absolutely disgusting. He insisted that they were delicious and had actually had to feed it to her to make her try them. Max had taken the chocolate candy between his thumb and forefinger and held it up to her mouth. Giggling the entire time she had lingered a bit longer than necessary taking the candy from his fingers. A smile played on her lips but it was quickly shed as her memory was broken up by the entrance of Maria.

"You okay, Liz?" Maria repeated and Liz snapped her head up to look at her friend.

"Ye-ah..." she drew out the word.

" 'cos your uh - your parents said you seemed kinda.." Liz looked at Maria awaiting the completion of the sentence. Seemed kinda what? What did her parents think was wrong? "That you slept 'til like 11:30 and I mean - the latest I've known you to sleep is nine, so..." her voice drifted as she looked at Liz. Her parents had every right to be concerned. Liz didn't look okay. "So you okay?" she finally asked, and she couldn't help but notice a picture of Liz and Max resting next to a damp spot on Liz's pillow. Liz was quiet.

She wanted to confide to Maria, she needed someone to talk to, but at the same time she didn't. She couldn't help but notice that over the past weeks the snide remarks Maria shot to Michael were being accompanied by flirtatious glances and actions. And that Michael returned them. She didn't need to burden Maria with her problems. Not like she wouldn't the minute she and Max were in the same room. She didn't even know if she could be in the same room as Max right now the way she felt. She didn't know if she were to see him whether she would just break into tears and throw her arms around him or simply ignore him completely. Right now she knew she was leaning towards the former. She knew right now that she couldn't so much as look at Max right no without becoming catatonic.

"No..." Liz admitted looking up to Maria and she couldn't help the tear that fell down her face. "Not really."

"Liz, talk to me - what's, what's -" Maria stumbled.

"Max..." was all Liz was able to make out. She couldn't bring herself to say the rest. To recount to Maria what had happened. Her eyes focused on the picture of she and Max and Maria saw it.

"What happened with Max, Liz?" Maria asked worriedly, "is he - is he okay?"

"I don't know," Liz mumbled and paused as two more tears dripped down her face and she stifled back a sob, " 'cos he kind of broke up with me."




"What do you mean broke up with her?" Michael bellowed down in the Crashdown as Maria recounted to Michael what Liz had told her earlier in the day. Maria raised her eyebrows at Michael's response, he himself was surprised with his reaction. Out of everybody it seemed he was the person most upset by Max and Liz's relationship. He said that it made Max vulnerable, that it put his life at risk, his life too, Isabelle's life. But as he sat at the booth of the Crashdown and talked with Maria, something he found himself almost uncontrollably doing more and more often, he began to see why Max behaved the way he did around Liz. He began to understand.

"I mean Liz said he just showed up and told her that it was over," Maria told Michael and he seemed dumbfounded by the statement as well. That didn't sound like Max at all. Max who spent every waking moment thinking about Liz, Max who always told Michael how he couldn't live without her.

"That doesn't sound right..." was all he could say and Maria just glared at him.

"Right, like Liz just made it up," she groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I'm just saying that doesn't sound like Max," Michael raised his voice.

"Way to state the obvious," she sighed, "maybe you could - I don't know think of a reason as to why he'd do that? Maybe since you talk to him a little more than I do?"

"Maybe if you stopped attacking me once in a while I could," Michael retaliated a bit defensively. He couldn't tell Maria he had a slight idea as to why Max had done what he had apparently done. He and Max had had a conversation last week that Max had seemed to be more than troubled over. Max had been unable to dismiss a comment Michael had made weeks ago about the ridiculousness of the idea of he and Liz together.
Because of his other-earthly status. Michael remained quiet however, he was careful to reveal nothing to Maria. He had almost let his tongue slip three times already this week while he had been talking to her. When she'd questioned him about his use of Tabasco, he'd nearly responded with the truth. And he began to understand why Max had told Liz the truth. Because if he hadn't there would be a strain on his relationship, there would always be that element of secrecy, of distrust. And despite his attempts to push the feelings he had back, Michael wanted to trust Maria.

The minute Isabel entered the Crashdown, Michael soon shared the news about Liz and Max with her and she quickly shared it with Alex. And everyone had the same reaction. The words just didn't go together - Maz, Liz, break-up.

"All he ever says is how she's his entire life," Isabel shook her head in disbelief as her meal sat untouched in front of her. She looked over at Alex, who was looking intently at her. His meal remained equally untouched, though she was sure his reason was a bit different. "I mean really it's enough to make you gag - I have to live with it, she's all he ever talks about." She paused briefly, sadness seeming to grow over her a bit. "And Max is like - he's my brother and the fact that he didn't tell me this, any of this...the last time I checked in on he and Liz they were going out to dinner, he brought her...God, he bought her bubble bath," Isabel said it with a disgusted, but at the same time confused face.

"Well then why would he..." Alex was equally confused, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand and not Isabelle Evans spilling her guts to him while they were alone in a booth in the Crashdown. He still had yet to get over this. He was still recovering from the time she had come over and sat next to him at lunch last week. That had sent the gossip mills working. "Liz and Max..." he repeated bringing himself back down to what had made Isabelle so distraught. He had to admit he was perplexed by Isabel's brother's actions as well. He saw the way Max was with Liz, they couldn't bear to be separated when she went to Spanish and he went to Government in the hallway. Not to mention the fact that he knew his best friend's heart was probably broken. "I mean what would make him...what in his life..." Alex stumbled over question after question and the more he questioned the more Isabel began to come up with answers - well more like one answer. Because to every answer Alex had, the answer in Isabel's head was always the same. *Because he's an alien.*


Max's weekend went by in dull sameness and routine. He was either up in his room, at the kitchen table, or outside in the driveway at the basketball hoop. His parents were relieved when he went outside Sunday morning for the first time. For all of Saturday he had been like a walking corpse, his eyes were dead to the world and his responses to his parents questions were short, brief, two word phrases.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Right before he had headed out into the driveway Sunday morning they had delved into his personal life a bit more, in an attempt to find out what was so wrong with their son.

"Are you okay?" They had asked for the umpteenth time.

"I'm fine," he had responded the same way every time.

"Is it something with Liz?" his mother finally interrogated and looking straight ahead and revealing next to nothing on his face he responded again with, I'm fine, and had marched outside.



That's where he was now, outside shooting baskets. The weekend was winding down and Sunday afternoon was rapidly turning into Sunday night as street lamps began to glow and the sun hovered over the horizon. Max stood in the driveway tossing the basket at the hoop. More often than not it bounced off the rim or the backboard. He had been in his room, listening through one wall his sister blaring U2's With Or Without You, and through the other wall to his parents discussion about him.

"Phillip, something is wrong," his mother had stated definitely and the concern in her voice was overwhelming.

"I'm aware,” he nodded his head, “Okay, but Max'll tell us if something is so wrong in his life."

"But you know Max, he's always so secretive, he always has his guard up -"

"If he wants to tell us he will..." Mr. Evans repeated but the words sounded like he was assuring himself more than he was assuring his wife. "If there's something that important in his life, he'll tell us."

"I can't ignore it, this is two days he's been the same way - look at him," his mother had cried. "Look at him at dinner, look at him at breakfast - he hasn't even eaten!" His mother had paused. "We're losing him, Phillip -do you realize that? The less he tells us, the less included in his life we are? And it's like he's dead inside and I want to know why," she suddenly said. "And I can't let him slip away like this - I can't." The discussion had continued and between that and Bono on the other side of the walls in Isabelle's room crying *I can't live with or without you* , Max had grabbed the worn basketball from it's resting spot in the corner and run outside.

Not one of his baskets had gone in so far, he'd even had a couple of airballs. And with the semi- final game for West Roswell coming up on Tuesday, his head was spinning. Shot after shot he took, responding the same way to every missed one. He would hustle under the basket to retrieve the ball and step back out to shoot; and then the ball would drop down and he would repeat it over and over. Each time, his mouth trembling just a bit more and his eyes growing a bit more moist. Isabelle was on her way outside to finally talk with her brother. All weekend he had avoided her and everybody and had simply shut himself in
the room. She looked outside the front window as she neared the front door, Max was retrieving a ball and jogged back out only to have his shot bounce hard off the rim back to him.

"...dammit!" he yelled through gritted teeth and with all his might he suddenly hurled the ball into the newly painted garage door. Isabelle stopped in her tracks as she saw her brother's outburst go by in slow-motion in front of her. The ball had left a dark black scuff on the white door and was now rolling slowly down the driveway into the gutter. She spun around quickly and headed back into her room. That wasn't her brother. None of this was her brother and whoever it was she couldn't deal with it, with him. She simply ran into her room, to the phone and called Alex.

She didn't see Max slump his back against the pole of the basketball hoop. She didn't watch as he slowly slid down onto the ground. And she didn't see him as he put his head in his hands and cried. He cried like he hadn't since he was six years old. Max rested his face on his knees and covered it with his hands but the sobs continued. He couldn't help it, he couldn't have stopped them if he wanted to. He couldn't live with Liz and he couldn't life without her; Bono was right and the lyrics kept ringing in his head. And then his mother's voice sounded in his head. She was right, he was slipping away. Not just from his parents. His whole life was slipping away. Five words to Liz and his life was unraveling in front of his eyes. And he sat in misery, the tears running down his face and the sobs continuing. And it was his fault.




Seven forty-nine rolled around, Max's alarm had gone off almost an hour ago yet Max remained face down in his bed. He knew what time it was, he knew that there were fifteen minutes until the start of school, but he rested in the bed. He didn't want to get out of bed, he didn't want to go to school. He just wanted to stay here alone - alone with his thoughts, with his misery. The clock changed to seven fifty and Isabelle suddenly stormed through the door. Max didn't move and she stormed towards him and grabbed his arm.

"Get up," she jerked him upright, "get up - get out." He sat up on the bed. "You're going to tell me what's going on," she ordered and he just collapsed onto the bed.

"I can't go Iz...I can't face her," he confessed. Or at least that's what he wanted to do. Instead he tightened his jaw and got to his feet, trudging along towards his closet. Isabelle seemed surprised by his compliance.

"Max, talk to me - to us," she pleaded and Max knew who she was talking about. "You think I don't know what's..." her voice drifted and Max just grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweater from his closet. "We all know what happened," and her tone softened slightly. "We just don't believe it."

"It doesn't matter," Max dismissed dryly, walking towards the bathroom and before Isabelle could respond he closed the door.



Luck seemed to be on Max's side for the majority of the schoolday. So far he had gotten through the first half of it undisturbed. Undisturbed by Isabelle, by Michael, Maria, Alex and best of all, by Liz. He hadn't seen her at all. Not by her locker and not in the hallway when he usually did. That was a lie actually. He had seen her at the start of third period, but when he had he had just turned the other way. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, his heart was breaking because he wasn't, he just didn't think he could handle seeing her since Friday’s events.

It didn't help that as he walked through the hallway with all these thoughts flying through his head, that at least one person had to come up to him and mention something about the semi-final game tomorrow. As if he could have more pressure on him. They were already playing last years state champion. He thought he would be used to it by now. People knowing his name, acknowledging him. It started with Mr. Parker, then his teachers and now he could hardly walk through town or the hallway without someone mentioning his game. He had yet to get used to the popularity, not as if it had effected his social life much. He just wasn't used to people recognizing him and knowing his name. And with all this pressure, God he needed
Liz in his life more than ever before.

He sat at their bio table and his heart began to beat loudly within his chest. He knew the inevitable was coming. She would have to come and would have to sit down next to him. They would have to talk to each other and go over their lab results. They would have to say something and at this point he didn’t think he could form phrases around her other than I'm sorry or I still love you. And that was the last thing he wanted to say.

Max sat sullenly on his lab stool, barely able to keep his head up when suddenly Liz walked through the door. His head snapped up immediately as she seemed to walk towards him and the lab table in slow motion. The awkwardness between the two was overwhelming. They avoided each other's eyes and the only thing she did to acknowledge his presence was to give him the making of a forced smile. The look in her eyes told him it was the only thing keeping her from crying. He knew that feeling all too well. It was the look he had given his parents all weekend. She took more time than was necessary taking out her books, and didn't lift her head up to face him again. No words were exchanged, but her face said it all.

This wasn't the way Max wanted it. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be. He couldn't deal with Liz not looking at him, not speaking to him. The bio period passed by quickly and more than once he had opened up his mouth to say something to her but no sound came out. All period long her eyes focused on the blackboard and the notes Ms. Hardy was writing on it. Not once did she even look down at her paper, nevertheless over in his direction. But his eyes remained on her all period long.

The bell sounded and she quickly packed up her books and began to walk out of the room as fast as she could.

"Liz," his voice suddenly called urgently from behind her and she spun around at the sound of his voice calling out to her. *I’m sorry, I want you back, I can't live without you.* They were the words Liz so desperately wanted to hear. The words Max so desperately wanted to say. "You forgot your pencil," he said lamely instead, picking up the pencil from the lab desk and handing it to her. She dismally walked towards him - her eyes still avoiding his - and held out her hand, taking it from him. Their hands met briefly, but it seemed too much for Liz. She withdrew her hand quickly and returned out the door and down the hall.


That was how the day went. How the remaining three classes with Liz went. He didn't try to talk to her again. He had to explain himself to her, but he had no idea how. Because he didn't even know what he was running from. And he couldn't tell her that whatever it was it had something to do with her. He was scared of her and the way he felt around her. That was all he knew. Yet he sat in every single class, his eyes penetrating the back of her skull, looking at her like it was a necessary life function for him. The way he always did.



Upon a decision made in a group meeting sixth period in the courtyard, Alex, Isabelle, Michael and Maria came to the conclusion that they should go about their lives as normal. Asking Max questions wasn't going to get them anywhere, nor was pestering Liz abut something she clearly wasn't too keen on reliving either. So when Maria spotted Liz walking slowly down the hallway at the end of school, as tempted as she was to ask her about how class with Max had gone, she instead told Liz the most important thing on her mind at the moment. The thing that she felt almost ashamed by because she cared about it as much as she
did what was going on with Liz. Her and Michael.

"And so then I was like - 'that's theft buddy' - and he just gave me like that look that he like always gives me, and he just stuffed it in his pocket," Maria recounted the story of last night's events in the Crashdown to Liz. Liz didn't appear to be listening too intently to Maria's story, she just stared blankly off into space as the two began to head towards the exit and over to the Crashdown. "So Michael owes you a bottle of Tabasco sauce," she informed Liz, who still didn't seem to acknowledge her friend however. Maria decided on her better judgment not to question Liz, they just continued walking.

Liz was listening alright. As she heard Maria ramble on about story after story about her and Michael - about the time she had been having difficulty with the school’s soda machine and he had come up and hit it: the soda subsequently falling out for her, about the time he had come to the Crashdown alone after school last week when she had been waitressing alone, and of course about the constant bickering the two consistently shared back and forth every day - Liz suddenly realized that Maria was in the dark about Michael. Just like she had been in the dark about Max. Maria had no idea about Michael's 'other-wordly status', or Max's or Isabelle's for that matter. And Liz couldn't help the thoughts that entered her mind. It was cruel. The way he and Michael did this. The way they led her and Maria on. Was Michael ever going to tell Maria? Most likely no. And then Liz felt something that nauseated her. She could hurt Max. She could hurt him like he’d hurt her. She could tell Maria, she could tell Alex. She could reveal his secret.

Maria blabbered on and on, but the same thought remained in Liz's mind. She could tell Maria. Hell, she should tell Maria. It would save her the heartache. She would really be doing Maria a favor. Then she saw Max walk towards the gym on his way to basketball practice. He had his gym bag slung over his shoulder as he walked innocently towards the building. He had the look of innocence and loneliness he always had. And Liz felt sick by what she had just been thinking.

"Has he said anything?" Liz suddenly asked, her eyes fixating on Max as he walked quietly through the school courtyard.

"Who Michael?" Maria asked obliviously, "yeah I talked to him last period."

"No umm..." Liz faltered. She didn't have to say his name, Maria knew who she was talking about. She turned her head around, looked to Max and just shook her head slightly. Liz bit her lip and nodded her head and Maria could tell that she was somewhat hurt by the comment.

"But I mean, he hasn't even talked to Michael or Isabelle...he hasn't talked to anybody," Maria confessed. So much for not talking about it. "Liz, I can talk to him if you want.." Maria stopped in her tracks and looked towards Max. Liz seemed to actually think about the matter for a moment, but she quickly shook her head.

"No, it's fine, he's fine...I'm - I'm fine," she rushed quickly and began to walk on, tearing her gaze away from him and leaving Maria standing there.

"Liz!" she called chasing after her friend, but Liz continued walking. "Liz, let me talk to him," she pleaded and again Liz continued to walk. Maria finally forced herself in front of Liz. "I can't take it Liz - I can't have one more day like today!" Maria exploded. "I can't deal with you being like this, okay? Seeing you so miserable, seeing Max so miserable..." Liz pretended like she didn't know what her friend was talking about. "You have to talk to him -"

"-no, I'm not talking to him," Liz reacted immediately.

"Someone has to - none of this makes any sense, why the two of you have to be...like this -"

"Look, believe me," Liz's voice wavered, "I didn't choose to feel this way." She held up her trembling hands and Maria looked more than confused.

"Then why -?" she began to question, but Liz just cut her off again.

"I don't...I don't know. okay? I..." she stopped midsentence to calm herself, "I know that..that I can live without, without Max" she paused again and the last phrase rang in her ears more than she would have liked.



Life without Max. Liz sat up in her room Monday night and that was all that she could think about. About the realization of it all. Max was the reason she got out of bed in the morning. Even before she had gotten to know him, he was the guy who made high school - high school. He was that person that no matter how much she denied it she found herself staring at, the person whose conversations - as small as they might be - brightened up her day. Tiny comments he mumbled softly, sometimes under his breath sometimes not. "But you're good at everything", "She's perfect". Comments about her proficiency in Spanish, her success at geometry proofs. Would he ever say anything like that to her again? Comments like those?

She remembered everything he had ever said to her. "You're good at everything" - that had been in response to her comment in Spanish class about how bad she was at conjugating the future tense. "She's perfect" - he had mumbled that under his breath in gym freshman year after Paulie McKinley had laughed to the rest of his jock friends about Liz's volleyball skills (or lack thereof). And Liz's eyes welled up with tears. He had always been that way with her, always treated her like that. Like she was the only person that mattered. Quickly she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. No more crying. Maria was right. She wasn't going to cry anymore. Not over Max.




Max never could have imagined in a million years that he would be playing basketball in a televised game in front of a crowd of five thousand. But indeed, with everything else in his life falling apart, this basketball game was the only thing left that he could hold onto. That he could succeed at. He had trouble focusing, as his eyes scanned the massive crowd and he was unable to locate Liz's face. He tried to clear his mind as he warmed-up with the rest of the nervous West Roswell team. A camera was focused under the basket on him as he went in for the layup and took shots from the outside.

There had been a feature on him and the West Roswell team earlier today on the local television station. His parents had taped it, already made tons of copies and mailed them out to relatives. Max had yet to watch the full thing in it's entirety. It had started out with a shot of the mysterious 1947 crash, followed by an eery one of Roswell's main street around dawn, the UFO Center and alien paraphernalia. "The only thing that used to put Roswell, New Mexico on the map was rumors of a supposed UFO Crash in 1947," the voiceover had sounded and Max had already been uncomfortable as the screen flashed with all sorts of pictures of alien autopsies and newspaper articles. "But now a different kind of visitor is putting this small town on the map," and a picture of Max scoring in last month's game against Artesia flashed across the screen. He fidgeted from his standing position in the corner. "Only sixteen years old, Max Evans was a stranger to high school athletics when he joined the West Roswell Comets just two months ago," they showed a clip of a Comets practice session but the camera focused on Max. "His effect," the camera panned to a shot of newspaper clippings about the Comets playoff and end-of-the-season victories, "has been out of this world." And Max had walked out.

He had not been too enthusiastic about the feature to begin with and had declined from any sort of interview. The local station had promised it would be more on the team's transformation and not his direct effect on the transformation. His palms were sweating more than usual as the clock signaling the start of the game winded down. He looked to the Truth or Consequences squad they were playing. They had won the state championships last year, been runner-up the year before that, and won the year before that. Max looked from his spot on the bench to Mack, Archie, Kyle, DJ and Ray. The Comets starting lineup that was far from used to playing in college basketball arenas in front of TV cameras and thousands of people. His eyes again scanned the crowd for Liz. But he couldn't find her.



It wasn't as if they weren't trying and it wasn't like they were playing bad. But West Roswell continued to trail by more than fifteen points and with the third quarter winding down the players began to lose hope. After going on a seven point scoring run, Truth or Consequences called a time-out and the weary West Roswell team got a breather. Sweaty and more than fatigued Max rested his hand on his knees as he gathered around their bench. He looked to the tired Seniors faces. To Mack, to Archie, DJ and Ray - the Seniors who had worked for four years for this game. For four years to experience something like this. Nothing was even said on the West Roswell bench. The players squirted water into their mouths from their water bottles, wiped their faces with towels, breathed deeply and just looked at the scoreboard. He wasn't going to let them lose. Max tightened his jaw. His life was spiraling out of control, he was making enemies at every corner - the look Maria had given him in the hallway was far from friendly and Kyle still had a price on his head - here was one thing that he could do. That he could take control of.

He converted three points on their first possession after the time-out, but Truth or Consequences scored right after him. So he drove back down the court and scored three more points, and Truth or Consequences scored two more. And it was the way it went. Max worked and worked and worked and scored and scored and scored. But the score didn't change. No matter what he did, Truth or Consequences was ahead. He looked to Mack and Archie's depressed faces as the clock read 11:32. He wasn't going to let this be their last game. He wasn't going to let these Seniors down. He could give this to them. He wasn't going to go down without a fight. But nothing he did helped. He played harder than he had all year. He sprinted up the court faster than he ever had, drove towards the basket harder than he ever had and by the time the clock read 5:01 he was dripping in sweat. He was playing desperately and it was evident.

There seemed to be more on the line in this game for him than there was for the Seniors. They were playing hard, his diligent play had energized them, but the way he wore the pain on his face and the way that every point by Truth or Consequences seemed to drive a dagger further and further into his heart made them realize that this was more than a basketball game to Max. That for some reason he carried more on his shoulders in this game than any other. The clock continued to dwindle and the anguish on Max's face was heartbreaking. To see someone work so hard for something, to truly leave everything out on the court yet achieve nothing made the game that much more painful to watch. He was trying as hard as he possible could to no avail. Liz watched it all from her seat - and as she knew West Roswell's incredible season was coming to an end, that Max's incredible season - the thing she knew brought him so much joy - was ending, a solitary tear dripped down her face. Because down on the court, although no one else could see it and though no tears were shed, she knew Max was crying.


Disheartened by the 78-63 loss, Mack, Archie, and the rest of the team walked dismally around the locker room, while Max just sat alone on a chair with a wet towel resting on his head. He seemed in a state of shock and Archie finally approached him. For some reason Max was taking this loss worse than he and the rest of the Seniors were. Sure they were upset, but to even be considered a threat against a team of this caliber, to even be here was incredible. And they'd tried to talk to Max but he simply sat there, alone with the towel on his head. He had the same dead look in his eyes that he had yesterday at practice. Except if it was possible, there was more suffering in his eyes now than there had been before.

"Y'okay, man?" Archie asked genuinely concerned and Max just shrugged.

"I just..." he paused, "I wanted to win it for you guys." And Archie just laughed at the comment.

"Are you kidding me, Max?" Archie laughed. "You got us here," he stated simply, "we wouldn't even have made the playoffs if you hadn't been on the team. Don't be sorry, man," he laughed again. "God - I mean we made it to the semi-final game. We - we put up a fight against Truth or Consequences! God, I never would have even imagined..." Archie paused and then licking his lips he looked to the weary and clearly upset Sophomore. "What you did for us..for the team, the Seniors - four years without making the playoffs..I mean you're one of the most incredible people I know." He paused for a moment, "You're like a
miracle, Max."



It was hard to believe that this was what his life had been like for ten years. Life without Liz, without basketball. The bus-ride back to Roswell had been long for him. Nearly two hours he spent alone in his seat with his headphones drawn about his head. He hadn't even been listening to anything he just had them covering his ears so none of his teammates would disturb him. It hadn't worked. When an hour and a half went by without a word to anybody Mack sat down beside him. Max had his head out the window and attempted to ignore Mack until he actually yelled at him.

"I know you can hear me, now quit bein' a prick, man," Max was startled by Mack's harshness and he lifted the headphones off of his head and turned to the Senior.
"Look I know you got shit goin' on," Max looked at Mack almost wildly. He was the first person in the past two days to mention he and Liz. And 'he and Liz' was quite noticeable. They had been noticeable when they were together so the separation was ten times more noticeable. It was like taboo however and no one brought it up or talked about it. "I know you an' Liz were..." Mack paused, this wasn't exactly his type of thing, but everyone on the bus had nominated him as team captain to say something to Max. Archie explained how he had tried to say something to Max, but he had seemed pretty unaffected by it.
"Pretty serious....an' I don't know what happened with you two...you know, but you're a good guy - you don't deserve this." Max was quiet and he just looked to Mack the same way he'd looked at Archie. This wasn't like his life before. He had friends now. He had people other than Michael and Isabelle who cared about him. "Why don't you go out with us tonight?" Mack proposed. "We're gonna have a little celebration party at Rich's," he smiled.

"But we didn't even win," Max laughed, but at the comment so did Mack.

"Yeah we did."




The entire basketball team, all the cheerleaders and the majority of West Roswell was packed into Rich's house. It was really nothing special, there was a keg, there was music, there was dancing, there were drinking games at the table. Max walked in, flanked on one side by Mack and on the other by Archie and surveyed the party. It was the first party, first social event other than the basketball games, he had ever attended, and Archie seemed to sense it.

"Relax, man - just loosen up," his eyes scanned the crowd quickly, "she's not even here." And Max looked towards the lanky Senior who knew exactly what Max was afraid of. Max looked around the room as well. Everyone seemed surprised by his presence at the party and a group of Junior girls suddenly began to walk over from their spot on the stairs towards him. He knew they were walking towards him, and he wanted to get away, but his feet stayed rooted to the spot. Max knew he was beginning to sweat and the long blonde-haired one approached him and flipped her hair flirtatiously.

"Good game tonight, Max," she smiled.

"We lost," he said mechanically and his feet began to back up. All of this felt wrong. It felt too wrong. Him at a party, with strange girls, not even knowing where Michael and Isabelle were. Where Liz was.

"You still played a good game," the one in the short black skirt stepped closer towards him and again he took a step back, stumbling over a corner of the rug.

"We lost," he repeated, walking backwards across the floor, and before the girls could swoop in after him Archie came to his rescue.

"You know what, Michelle? Paulie was lookin' for ya," he stepped in front of them and Max retreated to the other corner of the room.

Archie had to give them a slight shove in the other direction, but the girls finally relented and walked over towards Paulie, Rich and Kyle who were gathered around the keg. Archie returned to the other side of the room where Max was and just laughed at his behavior.

"You don't have to run away from them, Max. They don't bite," he shook his head.

"Look just because I'm not..." Max faltered,
"just 'cos we're not.." he stumbled over what he wanted to say again. "Just because Liz and I aren't...together," the words seemed almost painful for him, "anymore...it doesn't mean that I -" he began to gasp for air now, like each breath was a struggle.

"Look Max, Max, relax -"

"Look I don't want to be with anyone but Liz," he finally spit out what was on his mind, what had made his palms sweat and his head spin. "I mean she's the only person who I'd ever - "

"Max, Max - I get that, you don't have to explain." Archie raised his hands apologetically. He didn't want to delve into Max's personal life, he just wanted to loosen him up. "I didn't send 'em over it must have been Kyle or Ray." Max just nodded his head, seeming to attempt to regain his composure. Archie just leaned against the table and looked at the nervous sophomore. "But it's a party, man - go have a drink."



Max sat slumped on the couch in the middle of Rich's living room. Archie was seated at a chair to his left, Mack in the chair to his right and the rest of the West Roswell basketball team was standing behind the couch where Max was finishing his fifth beer of the night.

"I mean, I don't - I don't need her," he stated matter-of-factly despite the semi-slurred speech and they all raised their glasses in agreement. Archie was drinking his fifth beer, Mack was on his fourth but neither of them were as far-gone as Max was. No one was. "It's not like a biological function," he added laughing, "...I don't *need*
Liz," he stressed.

"That's right," Kyle suddenly added enthusiastically from behind Max, "you do not need Liz. Liz is..is bad for you," he said with a smile. Kyle too was a bit more drunk than anyone else in the room, though still not as bad off as Max was.

"She's bad," Max nodded his head in agreement and before he knew it Kyle was plopped onto the couch next to him. "She, she - did you know," Max raised his hand and looked towards Kyle. It was the first time he had spoken civilly to him in over two months. So what if they were both inebriated. "That my grades have..." he made a diving motion with his hand, "-sucked..since I started going out with her."

"There you go...bad," Kyle tipped his bottle towards Max's and they both took a drink.

"And, and now - she's all mad at me, and she's got..all her friends mad at me.." Max got a disgusted look on his face.

"Well did you...break up with her?" Archie suddenly inquired from his chair. Max shrugged his shoulders, seeming to be dismissing the matter.

"...yeah, but.." He paused as his mind suddenly began to recall that horrific, sleepless night. "I had good reasons."

"What exactly were they?" Kyle inquired and Max got a far-off look in his eye like he was trying to recall some long-lost event.

"You know I don't..I don't exactly - remember at the moment," he paused and took another sip, "but they were good - they were good reasons." He held the can of Natural Light a bit tighter in his hands. "I didn't just...end it for nothing - I had reasons," he repeated but it sounded more like a self-assurance than a positive statement to the intoxicated members of the basketball team.



While Archie, Rich and Ray tried to teach Max how to play Quarters Liz was sitting up in her bed, sleepless as normal. She had gone to the game, watched Max play, watched Max lose. She hadn't yelled out for him like she had the past six games. It was either "Go Comets!" or

"Let's Go Roswell!" but no comments directed towards Max. She couldn't let him know that she had been there. It would only distract him. After the game, she had thought Maria and Alex were going to go into the back of the Crashdown and gorge on ice cream like they always did whenever one of them felt miserable. But Alex had walked Isabelle home and Michael had walked Maria home and Liz found herself alone at the Crashdown. She had seen lights on at Rich Rungden's house, and knowing there was a party going on, had been tempted to go in. It was a school night. She told herself. As if that had ever stopped her the past two weeks when she had gone out with Max. No, there you go again. Thinking about Max. She scolded herself. This has to get better, I can't be like this forever. Maybe she should go talk to Kyle. After all she had broken up with him. Maybe he had some tips.

KROZ was having an 80's flashback countdown and Cindy Lauper's "Time After Time" began to play from across the room. *Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick, and think of you* Maybe getting over him wasn't the problem she suddenly began to think. She never could get over him. The way she felt about Max, something inside her told her that would never change. *Caught up in circles, confusion is nothing new. Flashback, warm nights, almost left behind. Suitcase of memories, Time after* So why should she just relent and let Max walk away from her. For the past two weeks Max had called all the shots in their relationship; including when it began and when it ended. Maybe she had to be the one to initiate when it started up again. And slowly Liz reached for the phone. Max's phone rang and rang and rang. With each ring her confidence began to slowly drip away and by the time she got his answering machine she was tempted to hang up. "Hi Max, it's um - it's Liz...I umm.." she faltered, not knowing what exactly what she wanted to say and at the same time pretty sure she didn't want to say it over the phone. "I uh just wanted to talk to you - I know it's late, but I've...I've really been thinking...just call me back as soon as you can...I'll be up all night."

Liz layed awake in her bed for hours. She sat in the same position waiting for the phone to ring. By the time one o'clock rolled around she began to lose hope. Maybe Max didn't want to talk to her. What if he had heard her message and just chosen to ignore it. Before Liz's thoughts could grow anymore disturbing, the shrill ring of the telephone awoke her. It was Max. She knew it was Max. Who else would call at one in the morning. For some reason she didn't run towards the phone however. She wanted to, she wanted to talk to him. But she didn't lunge for the phone like she had expected herself to do for the past two hours. She didn't even pick it up. Her answering machine sounded and sure enough Max's voice sounded on the other line. His voice sounded different however and there was a distinct noise in the background: laughter, other voices.

"It's Max, Liz," his voice sounded unusually upbeat and it had a tone to it she had never heard before. "I'm just calling to tell you..that I..am...over you," he drew out the words. "And that I.." he hesitated for a moment, seeming to be whispering in the background.

"He doesn't need you!" a voice came thundering and Liz thought it sounded like Kyle.
"I don't need you," Max echoed, "and I - I don't need you," he repeated and laughter sounded in the background.

"You said that, man," someone laughed.

"So...I just..I thought you should know, that I don't need you." More laughter and someone else in the
background yelled into the phone.

"He doesn't want you!"

"I don't..I don't.." Max stumbled over the words, seemingly unable to get out the last words.

"Say it, man!" various voices called in the background and Max hesitated for a moment and almost seemed to gasp for breath before saying the next four words.

"And I don't want you."

The sunlight streamed through the window and shone onto Max's closed eyelids. They twitched slightly, opened with a start and through groggy half-closed eyes he read the clock by his bedside - 7:56.

"Oh my God," he mumbled and immediately swung his legs over the side of the bed. Max stumbled to his feet and dragged himself across the room, and only then did he feel the splitting headache between his temples. His clothes still reeked of alcohol and he held his throbbing head in his hands - trying to recall last nights events. He vaguely remembered a party and a group of girls coming on to him, he remembered talking to Kyle and he remembered beer. Lots of beer. "Oh my God," he groaned again at the memory and hastily pulled a clean pair of boxers out of his drawer and jeans and a shirt out of his closet. He glanced quickly out the window - where was his jeep? Where had he been last night? He heard his mother call to him and the sound rang in his ears so deafeningly that he covered them with his hands. It was then that he noticed the blinking on his answering machine. He hit PLAY and began pulling on his jeans, glancing down at his watch. He had less than three minutes to get to school.

"Hi Max, it's Liz," her sweet voice sounded and he didn't have to hear another word. He remembered his message. He remembered all the words he had said.

"Oh my God!" he yelled a third time to no one in particular and raced all but two steps forward before falling on his face - his jeans only drawn up to his knees. He jerked the pants up hurriedly and raced out the door. His head was spinning, he felt more than sick, but all he could think about was the message - that horrible hateful message.

He came thundering down the hall, all the while gripping his head in his hands, and the noise prompted a shout from his mother.

"Max, honey - slow down you sound like a herd of elephants!" she commanded but he all but blocked it out. He didn't respond, didn't call back, he didn't even tell his mother he was leaving. She heard the door slam, looked out the front window and saw her son racing down the street. Confused, but aware that school began in all of thirty seconds, she shook her head and was about to dismiss his actions when she realized that not only had he not picked up his bookbag, but that he was racing in the opposite direction of the school.



The Crashdown was open for breakfast and quite busy, as was the rest of Main Street, and Max was more than careful as he began climbing up her balcony, clutching onto the bars as tightly as he could - his head was still throbbing furiously. He threw his arms over the ledge and his head was peeking over - making sure no one was on her balcony or, as much as he could see, in her room. He looked down briefly, nausea beginning to sweep over his body, and quickly heaved himself onto the balcony. Usually he got up with ease, but this took all of his energy and all of his strength to keep from passing out. Liz's shades weren't drawn and he peered through the window quickly. Finding it empty, as expected and hoped for, he opened it up as quietly as possible and climbed through. Her bed was neatly made and everything in her room was in proper order. Just like he'd expect it to be. Perfect. Glancing around again, taking in his surroundings - Liz's room - he saw that the only thing out of order was a picture frame lying face down on her bedside table. When he walked over and picked up the picture his entire body was crushed with the realization that it was the picture of the two of them in Artesia. He stood there, rooted to the spot and there was something in the simple knowledge that Liz had put the picture away like that, that struck him. What exactly had he said in the message that was so horrible? He remembered Kyle and Paulie cheering him on and shouting things into his ear, but what exactly had come out of his mouth?

His eyes quickly scanned the room for her answering machine. Did she even have an answering machine in her room? What if he had to venture down the hall to get to the machine? Max glanced down at his watch quickly, homeroom had already started fifteen minutes ago. His mind raced with thoughts and he looked wildly around the room. There it was. The blinking, flashing red light. ~ You have one new message~ sounded the answering machine and he turned down the volume on the bellowing machine ~Wednesday, One Oh Five AM ~

"It's Max, Liz," his voice sounded and already at the tone of his voice Max felt sick. "I'm just calling to tell you that I..am...over you," he shuddered and his knees actually felt weak at the thought of poor Liz receiving the message last night. The message played on - the shouting in the background, the laughter and Max felt sicker than he thought he ever could. He thought back to the message that Liz had left for him - 'I just wanted to talk', 'I've been thinking' 'call me back anytime tonight'. And then in response he had left a message like that. Max clutched the side of the dresser to keep from collapsing. He didn't think he could feel any more pain than he had the past four days but he replayed the message and the feeling in his heart, in his head, in his lungs, in the pit of his stomach was overwhelming. The message played again and he covered his hand with his mouth, bile actually rising in his throat and a feeling creeping up on him that made him want to race for the toilet. That's probably what Liz had done.

Voices suddenly sounded and Max heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. He hesitated in front of the machine, wondering if he should delete it. What if she had already heard it? Then she would know he had come back? Before he could make a decision he heard voices outside and dove onto the floor next to the bed. He recognized the voice as Liz's mother.

"Where did you say Jeff? Did you say it was in Lizzie's room?" the voice came closer and he knew she was standing in the doorway. Max hugged his body to the edge of the bed and held his breath. He heard the floorboards creak towards him and his heart stopped. "I don't see it," the voice actually began to drift away as did the footsteps and only until it had vanished did he lift his head and begin to head towards the window. He lifted his leg to the window looking back into the bedroom one last time. He lowered his leg, walked back over to her bedside and lifted up the picture of the two of them that was face down. He propped it right side up and turned it in to face her bed. Then, with homeroom half over, he crawled out the window, down the balcony and ran to school.




Max ran breathlessly through the doors of West Roswell with only five minutes left in first period. His head was still aspin and the feeling of nausea remained as the spiteful message still rang in his ears. He wandered aimlessly through the hall - not to his locker, not to Liz’s locker - he just walked. And all he could think about was the message. He had severed all hopes of patching up his relationship with Liz with that message. If he thought the past two days were bad - he feared for what today would be like. It was odd, he didn't even know he wanted to patch up their relationship, he knew he didn’t want it the way it had been for the past two days - he wanted to talk to her again - but the feeling of desperation that swept over him now at the thought of losing her - to the fullest extent of the word - was new.

The bell rang and students began to filter out of their classrooms, crowding the hallway. Students began to bustle around, brushing up against him, knocking him against a wall as he simply stood there in oblivion. He saw Liz walking down the hallways with Maria - she seemed well off enough and actually cracked a smile. Max quickly turned the other way. Maybe she hadn't even heard the message. He began walking towards his second period class. Even if she had, if she was okay, then so was he. It was a lie. He wasn't okay. He was far from okay. He couldn't let her onto the fact that he felt this way though. He slowed down his step and looked over his shoulder to her. She and Maria were both stopped in front of her locker and her face had a touch of sadness to it. However she felt, he wasn't going to let on to the fact that he was hurting. That life without her was ten times worse than he could have ever imagined. That as much as he felt he needed to be alone - he was regretting his decision.


He could already hear Ms. Hardy blathering on about photosynthesis and the lab activity of the day, but Max stood with his back against the wall outside of the bio room. He took a deep breath, and peeked around the corner. Liz was sitting at the lab table, taking out her notes as usual, waiting for class to start. She didn't even seem to mind that his stool was empty. He took a deep calming breath and stepped into the classroom. His life without Liz started now.


If Max thought the period went by slowly, it went by even slower for Liz. She had cut out of the first two periods of the day to talk to Maria. To recount to Maria every agonizing word of the message. She hadn't cried. She couldn't have cried if she had wanted to, because she was past the point of crying now. And so as she retold the story of the laughter in the background, and the hateful final four words Max had spoken, Maria's mouth just dropped open in amazement. Her reaction was similar to Liz's as minutes went by and she didn't respond. Liz just nodded her head at the silence, knowing that Maria knew there were no words she could say to ease the pain that she felt. And then it was Liz who spoke first.

"So I'm just going to...to show him that I don't need him either," she said weakly and Maria didn't believe a word of it. 'That I don't..that I'm over him," she said it with a bit more confidence, " 'cos - I mean, I lived without Max before...it's not like - not like I was in love with him," she lied to herself. "If he can.." her mind said *If he can do it, I can*, but she cut herself off. "I am fine with - just being - with not even being friends, I'm fine with life without Max," she stated definitely and she thought back to the spiteful message he had left her. "He has to know that...that I don't want him either. The last statement rang in Maria's ears, and though part of her wanted to scream out that it was impossible for Liz and Max to stay apart, she thought of the past five days, of all that Max had done to her best friend. And she folded her arms and nodded her head. If Liz was willing to attempt to be strong, then she would support her one hundred
percent.



For the first time in months, fifth period lunch Max spent with just Michael and Isabelle. The past two days he hadn't even eaten lunch. Isabelle and Michael, though a bit surprised, when he sat down at the table, didn't comment on the fact that it was the first time he wasn't off with Liz this period in nearly two months. They didn't comment on the fact that he hadn't spoken to either of them in over four days. He simply dropped his lunch down onto the table and plopped down next to them. This was the way it was going to be now; just him, Michael and Isabelle. It was going to be like it was before. Before Liz.

Michael and Isabelle looked at each other awkwardly when he first sat down. Isabelle stopped pouring the Tabasco sauce onto her pizza slice and just looked at him, Michael stopped moving his pencil and stared. Max acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He unwrapped his lunch and looked across the table to them.

"Michael, are you doing homework?" he asked, actually cracking a smile.

"Yeah, so?" he shot back hostily. Isabelle had already asked it about him earlier.

"I just didn't know you were into doing homework now.." Max responded.

"Yeah well there's a lot of things you don't know about me," he said, with a touch of resentment in his voice. Max seemed about to respond to the statement, but kept his mouth shut. There probably was a lot he didn't know about Michael that had happened in the past few months. He had been so busy with matters in his own life he hardly knew what was going on in Michael's. But that was all going to change now. Things were going to go back to how they were.

"So Max where were you last night?" Isabelle asked casually, attempting to steer the conversation away from Michael and instead towards Max. "I mean I know you were probably upset about the game and all.." Max's mind immediately drifted, and his eyes rested on the giant banner strung up in the courtyard.

Congratulations to the Regional Champion West Roswell Comets!
#45, Mack Bradley named to All County Team
#15, Max Evans, named to All State Team

He had forgotten about the game, in all of this morning's events. The only recollection he had of last night was leaving that horrid message on Liz’' machine. But his mind snapped back now. Basketball was over. Liz was over. "Mom and dad were really worried," Isabelle continued and Max was hesitant to reveal where he had been last night. He had known his parents would be worried when he accepted Mack's invitation last night on the bus. He never went out, never went to parties. And on a school night nonetheless. "Actually - I heard Karen Fisher saying you were at Rich Rungden’s house last night?" Isabelle looked her brother in the face, and there was something in her voice that made him realize it was less of a question and more of a personal attack. Max looked down at the table and not at his sister. Isabelle continued. "And Jenna Greenfield said you were walking down the street with...Kyle Valenti?!" her voice was filled with more confusion than it had ever been but still Max didn't answer. "Why do you keep lying to us?" Isabelle finally stated angrily, but Max detected more than a slight bit of concern. "Why do you keep hiding things?" Michael picked his head up from where he was copiously copying something down for a moment, awaiting a response from Max.

They both sat there, looking intently at Max, waiting for him to lift his head. He licked his lips and ever so slowly raised his head.

"I was at Rich's last night" Max admitted quietly, "it was kind of an end-of-the season thing." The statement didn't seem to satisfy Michael or Isabelle all that much and they both continued to look at him. "What do you want?" he asked defensively, feeling a bit like he was under interrogation here the way the Michael and Isabelle's eyes piercing him. Neither said anything. "What?" he asked again and the stares persisted. Isabelle opened up her mouth like she was about to say something but closed it quickly. "Okay, I ended things with Liz - is that what you wanted to hear?" he snapped and Isabelle's expression finally changed from the blank stare she had been giving him.

"You're okay with it?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows, knowing the answer was evident in the way that he had just said those first six words. Max took a sip of the Coke that rested in front of him and hesitated before responding.

"Yeah...I'm fine with it," he shrugged, "I mean - why else..why else would I have - would I have.." his voice drifted and he seemed unable to say the words again and he skipped over them, "..if I wasn't." Michael and Isabelle didn't buy it, but it was a large enough step for Max to have revealed that much and so Isabelle returned to her lunch and Michael returned to copying Maria's History homework. Neither expected him to continue talking. "It was...fun - being with her," he suddenly stated,
"but.." he got a hopeless look in his eye, "it's..I mean it can't be - we don't - we don't belong together, so you know - I moved on. I'm fine." Max said the words like he was assuring himself and before he could make another statement, Maria plopped down next to Michael and Alex stepped next to Isabelle.

"I'm gonna get a soda, anyone want one? he asked to the group at the table.

"I'll come with," Isabelle responded immediately, stepping up and walking over with him to the soda machine. He stopped midway to the machine and looked over at Isabelle. Isabelle who he had been spending increasingly more time with each day that passed. He took a deep breath, and lifted his eyes to meet hers as he shoved his change into the machine and pressed his selection.

"Look, Isabelle - there's this, uh, Fellini retrospective at the art house theater this Friday night, and I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to, uh, go?" he rushed the words quickly and closed his eyes, almost seeming to be praying. The soda made a loud bang as it fell to the bottom of the machine.

"No, I'm not really into that," she responded casually, bending down to retrieve the soda that he wasn't getting.

"Okay," Alex pretended not to be crushed. He had finally worked up enough courage to ask her out, only to be rejected so coldly. So unlike the Isabelle he had been getting through to the past few weeks. The one behind the cold and icy exterior everyone else saw.

"You want to just see a regular movie instead?" she picked her head up to meet his and a smile spread across his face from ear to ear.

"O - okay," he stumbled and Isabelle just smiled as she unbuttoned the top collar of his shirt like she always did. Max watched it all from the table and he finally turned his stare away from them and instead to the two people in front of him.

"You done with my homework yet?" Maria inquired, leaning over Michael's shoulder.

"I *really* hope you didn't copy it word for word, you didn't did you?" She ripped the paper right out from under his pencil and Michael bit his tongue to keep himself from retaliating to Maria's actions. He looked across the table to Max, who seemed a bit confused by Alex and Maria's presence, a bit surprised, and more than anything a bit hurt.

The first day was the slowest for Max. Walking around the school with the mentality that things were going to go back to the way they were before. When it was just him, Michael and Isabelle. He got through the day however, hour by hour. And then day by day he got through the week. And week by week he got through the month. And he watched his life go by. He watched as the life he had been building up for himself, the life he had worked so hard for ended. He watched as Michael and Isabelle began to be the one's with the life. He watched as he spent every Friday night alone in his room and Michael and Isabelle went out with Alex and Maria. He felt tempted to ask if Liz ever went with them, but he never did. He couldn't let anyone onto the fact that he might as well have been dead inside. That it felt like there was a gaping hole in the middle of his stomach and each day, each hour that went by without her it just got bigger and bigger. No, he couldn't let on to any of that. He especially couldn't let onto the fact that he was missing Liz more than words could ever describe. He didn't even talk to her anymore. She didn't talk to him. She didn't so much as look at him. And the ache inside, the breaking in his heart was unbearable.

He was no longer a zombie at home. Well not as much as he had been before. He talked, he went out occasionally. The look in his eyes remained the same however. They were dead to the world. And Isabelle knew why they were. The one thing that Max had truly had in his life worth living for was no longer a part of it. And so while Max sat alone in his room for the fourth Friday in a row, thinking Isabelle was out with Alex, Michael, and Maria, she was walking to the Crashdown. Walking to Liz.

*He doesn't talk about you.
That's how I know.
That he'll never last without you.
This Romeo said goodbye without letting go.

He says there's nothing wrong here,
but he paces to and fro.
And he thinks that I believe him.
But that's how I know
He said goodbye without letting go

But if I have to live with only half a man,
would you please just take him back?
I ain't gonna settle for half a man,
who just keeps on looking back.

Because I know he said goodbye without letting go
I know he said goodbye without letting go.*

Liz was more than surprised by Isabelle's presence alone in the Crashdown. She had walked through the doors, seemingly on a mission and instead of taking a seat at the booth, she and Michael frequented - Max had barely set foot in the Crashdown, when he had it had been as soon as her shift ended - and walked straight to the counter.
"Isabelle, what's uh...what's wrong?" Liz could only think of two reasons why Isabelle would come to her. There was something wrong with Alex, or there was something wrong with Max. She thought about Alex for a moment, it still hurt her to know that her two best friends were in the dark about Michael and Isabelle. The thought had crept up on her the past few weeks, but she had dismissed it. As much as Max had hurt her, it wasn't her place to reveal something like that.

"We have to talk..." Isabelle immediately stepped behind the counter and grabbed Liz by the arm. And Liz knew it had nothing to do with Alex.



Max rested up in his room, with KROZ blaring from the clock-radio at his bedside. This was how it was every Friday. Laying on the bed while the hour session from 8-9 played. The dedication session. The time when the people called in and dedicated songs to their mothers, or their best friends, or more often to their girlfriends. Mostly pleading for forgiveness, pleading for another chance. It was the horribly sappy music Max didn't have the energy to turn off. The radio waves were littered with pop songs during that hour time period. The kind you always changed the channels for, yet Max always seemed to stay on. He began to know the usual callers, the guys who called in dedicating a new song every week - there was John from Hagerman, Lucas from Apodaca, Matthew from Heatherford. Max began to sympathize with them - one week it was All by Myself by Celine Dion the next it was Please Forgive Me by Bryan Adams and then Back for Good by Take That. He began to sympathize because as he layed on his bed every week the thought had crossed his mind more than once to dedicate a song to Liz. He thought about that Bryan Adams song, Everything I Do (I Do It For You) - that got called in a lot. Maybe Bush's Letting the Cables Sleep, that echoed all his sentiments - *Silence is not the way. We need to talk about it.* Or maybe he would go with a harder song, a more desperate song - maybe Ziplock by Lit. He liked that song - *Would you show me what I need to do before you hate me. I could never live with that so tell me before you're better off without me* It was exactly what he felt, contained everything that he was afraid of. But then he would shake his head and relieve himself of those thoughts. He wasn't going to call in a song to Liz. Not now and not ever. Besides, as if she would ever hear it. She didn't even look at him in the hallway anymore. And when he did see her in the hallway, she was smiling with Maria or Alex. She was happy now. Or at least she seemed to be. She was happy without him in her life.



Liz bit her lip awkwardly, as she stood in the back of the Crashdown, fearing the words to come out of Isabelle's mouth. Isabelle paused, she seemed to be searching for the right words, searching for the right way to say what she was about to.

"What happened to him?? Is he okay?" Liz suddenly demanded before Isabelle could even speak a word. "What's wrong - is he, is he okay?" Liz didn't even think to tone down the urgency in her voice and Isabelle actually laughed at the comment.

"So you do still care about him?" she said, the irritation in her voice more than evident.

"What?"

"Max is fine...well, not fine really - I mean he's not, he's not hurt," Isabelle stopped and thought about her last words. "Well not physically at least," she added and Liz couldn't help the sigh of relief that passed over her. "You care about him -" Isabelle held up her hand, "then why are you doing this to him? To yourself?" Liz was more than caught off guard by Isabelle's sudden outburst. A month had gone by. A month of she and Max not speaking and hardly looking at each other. Why come to her now?

"Isabelle, look - Max and I have...we've both moved on," Liz said quietly and began to walk towards the door back out to the restaurant.

"Moved on?" Isabelle laughed, "when was the last time you went out? God knows Max only leaves his room twice a day," Liz was about to retaliate to her first comment, but at the latter part of her statement couldn't help but feel a pang in her chest. "He hasn't moved on. He's done the exact opposite. He's gone back," Isabelle said directly and the tone in her voice wasn't sympathetic or understanding. It was urgent and desperate. Almost like Max was in danger. "He's gone back to the way we were before," Liz knew what she meant by we, she knew what she meant by before. "Except he's worse," Isabelle paused and she knew if Max knew what she was up to right now he would be irate. She knew Max's whole thing was not to let Liz in on the fact that he was hurting. Right now she didn't care though. She was losing her brother. "It's like he's dead without you."


*This one's from Lucas in Apodaca, to his ex - no wait, no longer his ex - to his girlfriend Rachel. Here's Faith Hill, with Breathe.* And as the opening notes of the song began to play Max almost smiled. Things finally worked out for poor Lucas. After six weeks of calling in and requesting song after song, Rachel had finally taken the guy back. Maybe it was that Celine Dion last week that did it.

The song was in full swing, Faith Hill playing loudly out of Max's speakers when the door banged open and Michael walked in.

"What the hell you listening to??" were the first words out of his mouth and embarrassed Max quickly leaped off the bed and shut off the radio.

"Nothing, it was..it was just on the radio," he dismissed and Michael just rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"Whatever...anyway, Maxwell," he walked over to Max. "I gotta talk to you about somethin' and it's somethin' I've been meaning to ask for a while but I don't know if there's like..well if there's some sort of waiting period.."

"Michael what?"

"You're okay with you and Liz not bein' together?" It was Max's turn to roll his eyes and he sighed loudly, "I mean you said so yourself you were, so I just..I just wanted to check..."

"Michael you don't have to check up on me -"

"No, no, no it's not about that - it's about...uhhh..." He faltered for a moment and ran his hand through his hair, sighing loudly. "It's about me and Maria." Max lifted his head immedietly at the comment.

"You've been seeing each other for what - like a month now - what's the -"

"No, see we haven't been...we just - you know, Isabelle and Alex - all four of us." And at the last statement Max lowered his head. *All four of us* They had become a pretty solid group of friends over the past month. A group of friends he was hardly part of. Alex and Maria weren't any better than Liz. When they saw him in the hallway they just walked the other way. He had to admit he missed their companionship. "We've just been hangin' out, you know - we haven't really...well we haven't been seein' each other like that.," Michael paused and Max sat quietly on the edge of the bed. "But I kinda think I want to," he finally uttered honestly and Max did more than raise his eyebrows at Michael's surprising openness.

"You.." he began to stumble in amazement, but before he could say anything Michael continued and he got a look in his eye Max had never before seen in his friend.

"She's so cool, Max - it's like...it's like you have Liz -" Michael caught himself, "-you had Liz," the correction didn't do much to ease Max's sadness. "And I have her...she's, she's so...I can't describe it - it's like the way she makes me feel when I'm around her, it's like there's this - I don't know, this connection." Max sat in silence as he listened to Michael spill his guts to him, and as he listened to Michael talk the realization entered his mind that Maria had no idea about him, about Michael, Isabelle - any of them.

"She doesn't know you," Max suddenly said shortly, "I mean she doesn't know you - she doesn't know who you are."

"I want to tell her," Michael suddenly spat out and the lashing he was expecting to come from Max didn't come. He raised his eyebrows at the comment but that was all.

"Fine," Max dismissed Michael's confession with a slight wave of his hand as he began to slide against the edge of the bed and down onto the floor. It felt like nothing mattered now. Michael was finally happy. But Max couldn't feel happy for him. He couldn't be happy when he felt this way and a sense of anger came over him. Not anger at Michael. Anger at the world - at life. How life could present these incredible people to him and Michael, two people who made them both more than happy, but at the same time tear them away. Tear them away because of the differences between them. And Max turned hateful. "It won't work," his head shot up, "I mean you'll have fun for a coupla days, maybe a week or two - yeah, but..." his voice drifted off. "You don't belong together, none of us belong together..." Michael was overwhelmed by the negativity in Max's voice, but moreover by the confession that Isabelle and he had been searching for the past month.

"Is that what this is about?" Michael suddenly inquired, "is that what this whole thing with you is? You think you and Liz aren't meant to be?"




"But you're meant to be together!" Isabelle protested as Liz continued to brush off everyone of her statements with one excuse after another, "you two are - perfect for each other. Without you in his life Max isn't Max!" she pleaded and Liz was struck with the level of desperation in her voice.

"Look, I just - "

"Please..." Isabelle said weakly, and her voice was wavering slightly, "talk to him...I want my brother back."



"Look, Michael just leave me alone," an edge began to develop in Max's voice, he was on his feet now as Michael continued to pester him with questions. "I don't want to talk -"

"You don't want to talk about it? Tough, we're talking about it."

"Aren't you and Isabelle supposed to be out with Alex and Maria anyway?" Max suddenly said, exasperated and frustrated beyond belief.

"No Isabelle's at the Crashdown," Michael dismissed.

"Why is she at the Crashdown?" Max asked a bit worried.

"She's talkin' to Liz - look Maxwell, I don't know-" but Michael didn't get to finish. With those four words Max was gone.




Liz had journeyed back behind the counter, but Isabelle was right behind her. She was drying glasses and plates with a dishrag as Isabelle stood beside her, telling her exactly what home life was like with Max, telling her exactly how much he ate at dinner - or moreover how much he didn't eat - , she recounted how she and Michael couldn't so much as mention the Crashdown without Max getting a look in his eye.

"I'm sorry - but I've moved on, you know and..and I'm not talking to -" Liz looked up from cleaning the glass only to be met head on by Max's penetrating gaze. "...him," her voice creaked. Neither said anything and the corner of Max's mouth actually quivered slightly. Just being in the same room like this, being this close to her. They hadn't looked at each other like this in over a month and Max realized just how much he'd missed her. How much he had missed seeing her face. The way her eyes looked into his. They didn't look into his eyes that way right now. Instead they darted quickly back down to the counter top. Isabelle quietly slipped away.

"Liz," Max whispered softly. He had come here to pull Isabelle away. To stop her from saying something to Liz, but the minute he'd walked into the Cafe he knew he'd been too late for that. He didn't know why he had said her name. He wasn't planning on saying anything to her. He had too many emotions running through his head at this moment to say anything. Liz closed her eyes slowly. She had missed that. Missed the way that he said her name. She inhaled deeply, her eyes still closed. Closed so she didn't have to see him looking at her the way he always did. And as she felt herself caving in and going back to him, slowly Liz turned around and walked towards the door to the back. "Liz," he said her name, this time knowing why, beginning to walk after her - but suddenly Maria stepped in front of him and held her hand up to his chest, holding him back.

"Stay away from her," she commanded firmly, turning around and walking into the back after Liz. Max just stood their, looking through the circular window and suddenly Alex brushed by his shoulder and, staring Max down once long and hard, followed after Maria and Liz. Max stood there for a moment, processing everything. One stupid call. One stupid night with Kyle and his life had come apart. The Lit song echoed in his head *And would you show me what I need to do before you hate me* the desperate lines pounded in his mind and he knew it was too late now. That one call, those stupid words he hadn't even meant. The anger began to rise in him again, the anger he had felt when he was with Michael. And he would never get close to her the way Maria and Alex were. They protected her like guard dogs, like Max was a threat to her. He turned around quickly to find Isabelle but she was already gone and he raced back outside to the street to his car. He needed to get out of here. Out of the Crashdown, out of Roswell. He just needed to go driving. To get away from this for a while. Time to clear his head. He ran to the jeep and jumped into the drivers seat, quickly turning the keys into the ignition and speeding away. The tires squealed loudly and customers in the Crashdown turned and looked outside to see what had caused the noise.

Max was speeding down the streets of Roswell. If the Sheriff was anywhere nearby Max was in trouble. But he didn't care. He turned the radio dial to 92.3 - the edgier station, with louder music, angry music. *What do I have to do? To make you happy?* the screaming lyrics sounded as the industrial beat sounded throughout the car and Max immediately turned the volume up. This sounded exactly like he felt. The desperation in the singer's voice, the pleading. *What do I have to do? To make you understand?* He sped down the highway, the stars bright in the sky above and the wind whipping at his face. *What do I have to do? To make you love me? And if I can't make you love me...just tell me - What do I have to do? To forget about you* And Max flicked off the dial immediately, jerking the wheel around, he turned back towards Roswell. He didn't want to forget Liz. As much pain as he felt now, as miserable as he was, he never wanted to forget her. He loved her. She had to know that. She had to know that he still loved her.



The same customers were still in the Crashdown and they were perplexed as they saw the angry boy in the jeep pull up and jump out of the car. 'That Evans boy' some mumbled, 'the basketball player' others added as they couldn't help but stare at him as he walked, as if on a mission to the back of the room. To the doorway that read EMPLOYEES ONLY. He flipped past the door immediately and it knocked against the wall with a loud bang as it swung back and forth. They heard shouting

"Max what are you doing? Let me go!" the Parker girl's voice sounded

"What the hell are you doing?" an irate male's voice sounded. Then a door slammed and they heard an immediate fumbling for keys.

"Oh my God, Alex - we have to go after her!" a voice called urgently and the customers heads all tilted towards the back door, listening to the soap opera unfold in front of them.

Max dragged Liz by the head to the front of the Crashdown and opened up the jeep door with one hand, not releasing her hand from is. The audience in the Crashdown watched intently. They couldn't hear anything going on, but they could see it all. They all saw the scared and worried look on Liz's face, the determined yet so desperate face of the Evans boy.

"Max, what - do you expect me to get in the car with you?" she actually laughed as she looked to the open door.

"We have to talk," he said and his voice didn't sound like she had expected it to be. It sounded as innocent and as genuine as ever. The customers all watched as Liz hesitantly stepped into the car. Everything in her body told her not to, it told her to yank her hand free from his and run back to Maria. But everything in her heart told her to wrap her arms around his neck and jump into the car with him. He helped her into the car and quickly went over to his side. The car sped away as quickly as it had come and all the witnesses thought the same thing. Wait 'til Jeff Parker heard about this.




Liz sat nervously in the passenger side as Max raced down the highway in the middle of the desert. She was beginning to regret her decision to get into the car with him. He hadn't said anything since she had gotten into the car. Right now she didn't want to be in here with him, she didn't want to be near him, she didn't want to hear his voice and she was almost happy that he wasn't talking. Because each time she glanced over at him she heard the message. She had tried to get it out of her head. She had tried for the past month, but it remained on her answering machine and each time she didn't feel like she could make it, each time she felt like crawling back to Max she just replayed the message and the feeling would pass. She looked across the front seat to where he was driving. She couldn't determine what the look on his face
meant. But he looked over to her and a seemingly content look crossed his face. For this brief moment he could pretend everything was right between them. He could pretend that they were going on a road trip, maybe out to have a midnight picnic with her in the desert. Maybe by the reservoir pools. He had always wanted to do that with her.

"Max, take me back," Liz suddenly commanded loudly and he seemed to ignore her. "Max - I want to go back now -" she insisted.

"No," he said, a casual dismissal to his voice and Liz seemed bothered by it.

"Look cut it out - I don't know what this is about but -"

"It's about you and me," he stated simply.

"You and me? Max you made it pretty clear that there is no you and me," Max knew exactly what she was referring to.

"Liz, look I was drunk when I left that message," he said what he had wanted to get off his chest for the past month and suddenly in the rearview mirror Maria's Jetta came into view. She was speeding and rapidly catching up to the jeep, whose acceleration was not it's best feature. "What they're chasing after me? What the hell do they think I'm going to do to you??" Max actually laughed.

"Right now - I don't even know what you're going to do, okay - they're being good friends - they're looking out for me before...before it happens all over again," she admitted quietly and Max knew she was still stuck on the message.

"I was drunk when I left the message!" he yelled and though Liz was frightened by it, she yelled back. She yelled back everything that had been plaguing her for the last month, just like Max was as he sped around a tight turn, Maria and Alex close behind.

"But there's truth in what you say when you're drunk Max!" she fired back, "So you must have...you must have felt all that stuff - all that stuff that you said or else you wouldn't have said it."

"There was no truth in it," his eyes were now more focused on her than on the road.

"Why would you say things like that then, Max? Why?" she demanded.

"Because I love you!" he said exasperatedly and Liz was quiet. She looked at him confused and opened up her mouth like she wanted to say something, then closed it quickly and looked out the windshield. "Because everything I said was the exact opposite of what I felt!" he yelled and he was barely looking out the windshield now, at best he could see out of his peripheral vision, his eyes were focused so heavily on Liz. "I was scared, okay? I panicked!" and Liz knew he wasn't talking about the message anymore, he was talking about everything. He was talking about that night he had walked away. They were driving up in the mountains now, up in the New Mexico Hills and the turns got tighter and Maria and Alex still remained
behind them in close pursuit. Max's eyes remained on Liz and as they spun around a blind turn, headlights flashed brightly across his face. Liz turned her head and Max tried to shield his eyes from the light, and veer into the opposite lane. He tried to swerve past the small sports car and it brushed mere centimeters past him and Liz. Liz looked behind quickly and her scream pierced the night as the car clipped the jeeps back tire and he and Liz began tumbling down the side of the hill.

Maria and Alex heard the scream - they heard it clear as a bell and had no idea that it had belonged to Liz. As they turned the tight corner where Max and Liz had plunged down the gulley, there were no signs to indicate that anything had happened there. The darkness swallowed up the clouds of dust rising from the bank and the Jetta raced on in pursuit of a Liz, who was no longer in front of them, but was plunging down the bank.

The moment the jeep had taken a nosedive down the steep gully, Max had thrown his body across the seat and over Liz's body. The jeep tumbled and rolled, and tumbled and rolled and he and Liz would have been thrown around like rag dolls inside the jeep had their seatbelts not held them in. Instead they hung upside down as Max just kept his body over hers, trying to pin her firmly against her seat. His seatbelt cut into his stomach, but all he could think about was keeping her against the seat, keeping her from being thrown around until they reached the bottom. The hill seemed so much bigger, so much longer and the jeep just kept tumbling and rolling and tumbling and rolling and somewhere along the line, though he was unaware, he was outstretched trying to protect an unconscious body.


Max himself lost consciousness. Once the jeep reached the bottom of the gully it had stopped short and sent Max's head slamming into the steering wheel. He opened up his eyes, to be met by a sticky mess on the wheel. From what he could see in the darkness it was covered in blood and he slowly lifted his hand to his forehead. He felt dried blood across his forehead, but he didn't even think to look in the mirror to see his injuries, he immediately looked to Liz. Her body was crumpled against the window, her eyes closed. He unbuckled his seatbelt quickly and winced in pain. The belt had cut into his stomach all right, his shirt was ripped and coated in a thin line of blood, as was the seatbelt.

"Liz," his voice was unsteady and he blinked back tears, "Liz - it's Max, wake up Liz, please wake up..." he pleaded and he was afraid to move her, to touch her. He was afraid to check her pulse. His hand moved gently to her neck and the feeling that swept through his body when he detected the steady thump-thump almost made him cry with happiness. She shifted at his touch and he whispered her name again. "Liz..." her eyes twitched and his breath caught. Again he whispered her name and they fluttered open. He choked back a sob.

"Max.." was all she could make out and he just nodded his head and moved his hand behind her head, to lift her as gently as possible off the window. She sat in the seat like a helpless child as he carefully moved to unbuckle the seatbelt that had dug into her stomach as well, though not as severely as his. When he reached over to gently slide it off her body she reached out weakly with her arms and drew him to her. She didn't even say his name, she just held him as tightly as her weak arms would allow. And he could sense in that hug how genuinely terrified she was.

"We're gonna be okay..." he said softly, in an effort to comfort her and he hoped that she couldn't sense the terror in his voice. He hoped she couldn't see the blood caked across his face, or the blood that was across hers for that matter. His mind was awhirl with thoughts and the splintering headache did nothing to help his thought process. All he could think was to get her out of the jeep. Her eyelids began to droop again and she looked as if she might drift back out of consciousness again. He draped her arm across his back and dragged her across the seat and out of the car. She moved to get to her feet, but cried out in pain and reached for Max as she began to fall to the ground. He looked down and then he saw her right leg. The lower portion of her leg was grotesquely swollen three times it's normal size and had turned a purplish color around the ankle. His mind raced with thoughts and he gently eased her onto the ground. He raced to shed the tattered and bloodied army fatigue jacket from his body, but the moment she was released from his embrace and he moved to remove the jacket she reached out for him. "We're gonna be okay..." he repeated, wadding the jacket up beneath her leg and propping her leg up onto it. His powers. He could use his powers to help her. To help her leg at least. Her eyelids fluttered again and the groggy look resumed in her eyes. "Liz, you have to stay awake.." he said desperately, as he moved his hand down her leg. He was no doctor but as he felt the badly swollen leg, he could feel it broken in at least three places. "Liz you have to stay awake or I can't help you..." he pleaded and his hand moved down to her ankle first.

"How are you going to help me?" she asked meekly and he realized that she had no idea what he was capable of. And for the first time in his life, Max was thankful that he was who he was. He was happy that he wasn't normal. Liz felt a surge go through her body as she felt the bones in her ankle set and the swelling there slowly vanish. Max's hand gently moved up her leg and the same feeling swept over her body as she watched him in confusion. All the muscles in his face were taut and he was staring intently at her leg, focusing all his energy there. He moved his hand higher still and the last bone was set and the pain in her leg was relieved.

"You're alright, now.." he crooned, "you're alright," and she looked up at him, her face masked with confusion and fear. Max had fixed her leg, but the throbbing, the intense pain in the back of her head
remained.

"Max, go.." she whispered listlessly. "Go get help."

"I won't leave you.." he said desperately and her eyes began to flutter. Max knew she was losing consciousness again. "I won't leave you," he repeated. The last thing she remembered was his face, so full of fear and him pleading for her to stay awake. He had cupped her face in his hands and brushed the hair out of her face, "Liz, it's me - Liz it's Max, stay awake please, please don't close your eyes." He had begged.

And then it was black.




Alex and Maria had been more than confused as they reached a straight expense of highway and saw no signs of Max's jeep around them. They continued driving. They drove all the way into the next county. They drove around the county all night and back and forth through the streets of Roswell. Alex had been tempted to tell Liz's parents, but Maria stopped him. "What are we going to say? Max Evans kidnapped your daughter, we have no idea where they are?" Alex had insisted that they call Isabelle, but Maria had just shaken her head. And Alex had continued driving through the night.




Max could see as he got to his feet and looked out around the wrecked jeep that they had rolled down the one giant hill and right across the next road and into the gully next to it. It must have been after midnight and Max knew that there was no one around for miles and he knew no one was driving down the New Mexico highway at this hour. Nevertheless, he tenderly raised Liz's unconscious body off the ground and carried her in his arms up out of the gully onto the road.

"Help me!!" he yelled loudly, his voice echoing off the hill the jeep had just plunged down. "Please somebody help me!" he desperately screamed again, looking down to Liz's motionless body in his arms. He could heal broken bones, he could stop her from bleeding all he wanted, but head trauma was another matter all together. He had no idea how to help her, no idea what to do. So he continued to yell out into the night, and holding Liz's limp body in his arms he continued to stagger down the deserted highway.




Each step Max took, the weight of Liz in his arms grew heavier, his own wounds grew worse and so did the feeling of hopelessness that was beginning to reign over him. He had stopped his cries for help. If he heard any sort of a noise however, a plane over head, a rustling in the bushes he'd scream desperately into the night for someone to help him. He knew the plane couldn't hear him by any means, and he knew it was most likely a coyote in the bushes. He yelled anyway though, but it was beginning to be hopeless now. Not one car had journeyed down the road and the sky began to lighten. Max knew it was almost morning. Liz had been unconscious for hours. She could be in a coma for all he knew and at the thought his legs began to give out on him. His legs felt weak, he felt his knees begin to buckle and, with Liz still in his arms, he leaned against the steep canyon wall that lined one side of the highway. His vision began to get blurred as he blinked back tears.

How had this happened? As everything around him began to lighten he could see the extent of his and Liz's injuries. The seatbelts had cut into both of their stomachs, Liz's luckily not as severe as Max's. The thin line of blood on his t-shirt now soaked the lower portion of it. It had not stopped bleeding all night. Each hour that went by Max lost more blood. The steady trickle had accumulated over the hours, and a small trail of blood traced the way back to the jeep. Max couldn't deny the fact that he felt a little light-headed. He had no idea what his face looked like, but Liz had a large purple bruise on her temple and must have been cut on her scalp somewhere, as her hair in one spot was matted with blood. And the reality of it all was beginning to sink in. He looked to Liz. His beautiful Liz, so battered, bloodied and bruised.

Because of him. This was his fault. All of it. He had taken Liz against her will and made her come with him and he had been the one who had had his eyes so fixated on her that all this had happened. The logical part of his brain reasoned that it had been the driver in the sports car's fault - it had been he who was driving in the wrong lane - but he just shook his head. This all was his fault. And he slumped to the ground, holding Liz across his chest depression beginning to sweep over him. He looked at her again, at the steady rise and fall of her chest. Then he looked back up to the fading stars in the sky and summoning all the strength left in his body, he began to pick himself back up off the ground. He didn't have time to feel sorry for himself.

But each step he took now with Liz in his arms was that much more painful. His head ached more than he ever knew it could, and he could feel now that his bottom lip was split open. Besides the blood-soaked bottom of his shirt and the steady stream of blood that came from his side, there was a large gash down the side of his left arm and he knew it had to be from a piece of broken glass. It had to be one hell of a piece however, the wound stretched from elbow to wrist. Max shook his head. Forget about your injuries. His mind said and he hoisted Liz up again as she began to slip from his grasp. Liz was all that mattered. His biceps were screaming with pain. He had been carrying her for more than four hours. They had to be somewhere near Roswell now. Somewhere near a town. Near civilization at least. A gas station, something. He had no idea what road they were on though. He didn't even know this road existed. Who knows if anyone did. Once again Liz began to slip from his grasp and he hoisted her up again and continued walking as the sun began to rise over the horizon.




Maria was now at the drivers seat of the tiny Jetta and she squinted in the faint morning light. She and Alex had switched places, as he had been driving around aimlessly all night. They had gone over the same roads three, even four times both fearing something they weren't exactly sure of. They knew something had to be wrong, every hour they would come back to Roswell to find neither Liz nor Max there. She didn't know if Liz's father knew, or her mother for that matter, but Liz and Max had been gone all night and though she didn't know what she was afraid of, she feared for the worst.

"Maybe they spent the night in the jeep," Alex suggested hopefully, though the suggestion didn't do anything to raise Maria's spirits. His attempt at light-heartedness would not prevail in this situation. Maria didn't know what she was scared of. They had only been gone for four hours really, maybe five. But the feeling in the pit of her stomach told her something wasn't right. Liz was too responsible to pull something like this, Max was too responsible. Then she thought back to the time they'd taken a day trip to Artesia, without notifying anyone. Liz hadn't answered her phone, they hadn't called to even tell their parents. These were different circumstances however and Maria held her hand to her forehead.

"Oh my God, Alex..." she moaned and he was quiet. They were retracing their path again, the path that they'd followed Max's jeep earlier in the night. When they had still seen the jeep. Maria's eyes focused on the road ahead and she rubbed her eyes in an effort to keep awake.

"What is that?" Alex suddenly squinted his eyes, and Maria stopped the Jetta for a moment.

"What's what?" she leaned across the steering wheel, looking out at nothing.

"That looks like a road block..." he mumbled to himself and suddenly opened up the car door and ran forward on his lanky legs. Maria followed after.

"Alex what?" she called, unable to spot what Alex was so fixed on. But then she saw it. A thick chain stretching over what would have otherwise been a fork in the road. ROAD CLOSED a sign on the chain read and Alex looked to Maria.

"It's paved," he said it almost like a question and she could tell he was curious as to why it was closed.

"Worth a shot.." Maria shrugged and they both returned to the Jetta.




His steps were slow. Painfully slow, but Max continued on. He wondered how far he had actually walked. He had been moving slowly all night and had stopped more than once to rest, but whatever road he was on it had to merge somewhere along the line into a larger one. It had to. He looked up the hill to the right that hugged the road. It was the same hill that he and Liz had rolled down. It stretched this whole way and looking up to it, seeing just how steep it was, he felt sick. That combined with the splitting headache and the fact that his t-shirt was suctioned to him by the blood that now coated his side and stomach. He stopped for a brief moment, hoisted Liz up again like he had to do every few steps, and began walking on. Suddenly his head snapped up. He heard something off in the distance. It could have been a plane, it could have been a car, it could have been his imagination.

"Somebody help us!!" he screamed hopelessly, walking down the middle of the road towards who-knows what. The sound grew louder and louder and he was confident it was a car, he was almost sure of it. "Help us!! Help me, please!" he cried stumbling forward. This had happened two other times during the night. He had been almost positive a car had been coming down on the road but the louder it sounded the more he realized that it was the road above him. The road he had been driving on last night before the fall. But no, this sound grew louder and louder and he thought he detected a cloud of dust in the distance.

"Help us!! he yelled, a bit more hope in his voice, a bit more energy. And then he saw it, it was most definitely a car. A tiny red car. Driving towards them. He found the energy within him to begin running, to the best of his ability, towards the car. His mind didn't even process that the tiny red car was a Jetta. The same Jetta Maria owned. He didn't even recognize the two people running towards him as Maria and Alex. He just shouted like he had all night, unable to believe that help was finally arriving for him. For Liz. "Help us, please!"

"Oh my God, Max!!" Maria screamed as she sprinted towards Max and the apparently lifeless body of her friend. "No, no, no!!" she moaned to herself, shaking her head as she saw Liz's head rolled back and her hair matted with blood. Alex, always the steady reliable friend, went into shock as he saw Max carrying Liz's limp body. It was worse than he and Maria could have ever imagined. They didn't know what they had expected, but it certainly wasn't Max in a blood-soaked shirt, with a giant laceration down his arm, a gash on his forehead, and Liz in his arms. And Alex didn't move. He stopped in his tracks the minute he saw Liz and the look on Max's face.

Maria was hysterical by the time she reached Max, she was gasping for breath and tears streamed down her face. "Liz," Maria cried, "Oh my God, Liz!" she sobbed hysterically as she looked to Liz's ghostly white face. Max just continued jogging towards the car. "Max she's not..I mean, it's Liz - she can't be..." Maria shook her head unbelievingly.

"She's not," Max said breathlessly, "she's not dead." And at the words Alex snapped out of his trance and Maria wiped her face with her sleeve. "She - she hit her head," he stammered trying to explain to Maria and Alex, "and I - I...she broke her leg, I - I fixed that.." Max's voice began to waver now as he opened up the back door and there was a sense of desperation to it she had never heard before. She simply watched as he gently maneuvered Liz's body into the backseat where he was and recounted the details of the horrific night. "And I tried - I didn't know what...she just - I couldn't help her head, she - she hit her head," Max stuttered again and as Maria was about to accelerate, she turned around at the same time Alex did.

"What do you mean you fixed her leg?" Alex suddenly asked, the same question Maria was wondering, as he looked down to Liz's leg. Besides the blood that covered her lower leg, it was perfectly normal. It wasn't misshapen, wasn't swollen in any way. How could it have been broken? Max realized what he had just revealed in his last statement, but he didn't care.

"I don't have time to explain now," he shook his head, and his hand rested on the top of Liz's head, "- just go!" and Maria dismissed whatever suspicions she had for the moment, she pushed them into the back of her mind to save for later. Quickly cutting a u-turn, the Jetta bumped back down the road to where Alex and she had first seen the road block.



They sped down the highway, and Max was relieved at the sight of other cars. Maria forgot her mother's warnings to never take the car over seventy and she pressed her foot down as hard as she could on the accelerator. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Max had Liz's face cradled in his own lap and Maria was suddenly nauseated as she saw Max's shirt completely soaked in blood.

"Max what happened?" she asked, attempting not to sound as hysterical as she knew she did, not simply in reference to the bloody shirt, but to everything. Max thought about how many times he'd have to recount this story. To his father, to his mother. And then if it was possible to feel any more wretched than he was now, he did. He would have to tell it to Liz's parents.

"This car," he cleared his throat, "this car clipped the back of the jeep," he tried to remain as steady and as calm as possible. "And then - it..we just started rolling, we just kept rolling..." he tried to block out the memory of the jeep tumbling down the hill, of he and Liz banging around inside of it, glass shattering everywhere. "She was conscious for a while and then - and then," his voice drifted off but before Max could finish the Jetta began to sputter loudly and groan.


"No - don't do this now!!" Maria screamed, "no, dammit no!" the car began to grind to a halt and Alex held his head in his hands as it came to a sputtering stop. Max didn't even hesitate for what he was about to do. Gently lifting Liz's head off his lap, he ran out of the car and flipped the hood up. Maria ran out of the drivers side and Alex came flying out of the passenger side. "It's the hose - right there," Maria pointed to a rubber house with a gaping hole in it, this had happened enough times to her. "It can't take it over seventy and it just - it burns a hole in the hose," she said the words unbelievingly. "And there's no way to fix it - you have to get a new one.." Maria wailed helplessly and Alex closed his eyes in disbelief, looking to the back seat where Liz lay.

Suddenly Max moved his hand to the hose. His eyes focused intently on it and a faint glow seemed to come from the hose. He lifted his hand and there was no longer a hole. "Let's go," he dismissed the event that had Maria and Alex standing there in shock.

"What the hell are you?" Alex asked, somewhat hostily and Max's mouth tightened into a thin line. So much for a secret. He didn't respond though, he slammed the hood shut and ran to the backseat with Liz. Alex and Maria remained standing there in disbelief at what had just taken place in front of their eyes.

He opened up the door and yelled outside to them.
"
I'll explain everything later, I promise," Max couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. "You just have to trust me." He looked back down to Liz and just prayed that this whole nightmare would be over soon.




Everyone in the hospital turned their heads and couldn't help but stare as Max raced through the hallway, carrying Liz in his arms. "Help! I need some help here!" he yelled urgently as drops of blood splattered onto the linoleum floor behind him.

"What's the problem, son?" a doctor immediately joined Max's side and he asked the question calmly, too calmly for Max. Almost like he was more worried about Max than he was about Liz. Max had too many things running through his mind, too many things he wanted to say.

"Help her," was all he could say and the doctor looked again at the small pool of blood that was forming beneath Max.

"What about you, son - you need help," the doctor stated, looking to the large gash on Max's forehead and the giant wound on his arm. He could sense Max was not in a steady mental state of mind either. Something told him it had to do with the blood loss and he watched as the pool of blood beneath the boy grew larger. Alex and Maria were hurriedly trying to explain Liz's injury to the woman at the desk, telling him how she had hit her head at least four hours ago, that she had been unconscious since and immediately a signal sounded over the loudspeaker.

"Help her!" Max yelled, motioning to the fragile looking girl in his arms and the doctor seemed almost frightened and intimidated by the urgency and the anger in his voice.

"Alright, alright," the doctor tried to soothe Max, "just tell me what's -"

"Help her!" he yelled again, the distress in his face and his voice evident and before the doctor could react the signal sounded over the loudspeaker again. The signal about Liz's condition.

"Jesus Christ.." the doctor immediately moved to take her out of Max's hands, but Max was reluctant to let her go. She had been in his arms for the past five hours. He felt like if she were to go into anyone else's hands something would happen.

"Liz," he said her name softly, like he couldn't believe they were taking her away from him. Doctors immediately swarmed Liz from all sides and Max just stood in the middle of them.

"Son," one turned to him and began to steer him away, but then he saw Max's injuries as well. "Someone get this kid out of here," the doctor shouted to no one in particular and the stretcher Liz was on began to roll down the hall, doctors crowding on every side. They talked back and forth with one another in hospital talk Max couldn't understand. He wanted to tell them what had happened, but all he could do was race alongside the stretcher and the doctors. The same irritated doctor turned to Max.
"Someone get this kid out of here, get him some help!" he yelled again.

Liz was wheeled into a room and lifted onto a bed where the doctors all continued conversing, almost in a foreign tongue back and forth to one another. One immediately injected something into Liz's arms, another placed an oxygen mask over her mouth and Max stood and watched helplessly. They quickly began treating her and as the same doctor again yelled for someone to get Max away, his response was finally met and two male nurses stepped over to steer him away, telling him they were going to get him help eyeing the pool of blood that had collected underneath him at the edge of the bed.

"I won't leave you," Max called desperately to an unconscious Liz, clinging to the edge of the bed, fighting off the nurses. One grabbed his right arm, and the other one grabbed his left, Max kicked his legs wildly. "I won't leave you," he called again and down the hall Alex and Maria could here him and came running. "Let me go!" he struggled to free himself from the grasp of the nurses. "Liz!" he called to her and a stretcher had arrived behind Max as the nurses fought to hoist him onto it. He fought against them wildly. "No! Liz - I won't leave you.." he repeated, "I won't leave you," he said again and again but as more nurses came to contain him and Alex and Maria just watched as it took not two, not three, but four people to get him onto the stretcher and hold him down, he began to feel weak. He watched as the nurses all held him down and he could no longer see Liz. And at the next six words a new terror swept over him.

"We need a blood transfusion now," One of the nurses called and doctors began to hover around Max and treat him the same way that they had treated Liz.

"Get Michael and Isabelle!" Max suddenly yelled to the best of his ability, leaning forward from the stretcher. He was pushed back down and Maria and Alex watched as they saw him wheeled down the hallway. They listened as they heard him calling to them from down the hallway. He screamed for Michael, he screamed for his sister and he screamed for Liz.



Max had thought it could get no worse. It had already been the most horrific five hours of his live, carrying Liz's lifeless body along the deserted desert road. But now she was gone from him, dead for all he knew. And now here he was - in the one place in the world he feared the most. The hospital. With doctors hovering all around him. For his entire life, he, Michael and Isabelle had done everything in their power (and it had often taken their powers) to avoid hospital visits of any kind. And they had been successful. But now....

Max looked down at the doctors who were cutting open his blood-soaked t-shirt and beginning to examine the still bleeding wound in his side. Max cursed himself for not healing that. For not healing himself. Truth was he hadn't even realized his injuries then, and the thought hadn't even crossed his mind, he had been too worried about Liz. But now he was in trouble. Serious trouble. And he bellowed down the hall for Isabelle again.

"Get my sister!" he cried, "Isabelle!" he raised his head and a hand came down on his forehead, pressing him back down.

"Relax son...relax, you're going to be alright," the doctor tried to soothe him.

"Get my sister," Max called franticly and down the hall Maria stood franticly by the phone. They could both hear Max yelling and the more he did, the more frantic and hysterical Maria got. She wasn't the type of person who did well in these situations.

"God, I don't even know her number..." she cried helplessly, and Alex put his hands on her shoulders.

"Maria, you have to stay calm - look, I know her number, you just have to stay calm.." he took the phone from her and slowly dialed the number he had committed to memory the first time he heard it. The first time Isabelle had offered it to him.

"Oh my God...Alex listen to him.." Maria cried and Alex, though he didn't admit it, was more than disturbed by Max's cries for help. He was yelling for Liz now, crying out through the hospital. His cries had begun to grow a bit softer now, but the level of complete terror in his voice didn't change. His voice grew wearier and wearier, and then for some cause - unseen to Alex and Maria - they were suddenly renewed and it almost sounded as if he was being tortured. Maria knew that other people in the hospital probably thought he was a mental patient, certainly there was a good amount of looks and stares down that hallway, Max had barely stopped yelling since they had come in. And they'd all seen him struggle against the nurses when they had tried to take him away from Liz's bedside. Max cried out in anguish, and he called out Isabelle's name.

"Oh my God.." Maria was beyond hysterical and a voice sounded on the other line, yet she remained gasping for breath as he began yelling for his sister louder than ever.

"Hello?" Isabelle's irritated voice sounded on the other line for the third time and Maria drew her attention from down the hall.

"Isabelle, Isabelle it's Maria.." Maria was surprised at the level of control in her voice, "you have to come to the hospital - now."

"Maria? What? The hospital??" Isabelle was beyond confused and suddenly she thought of the only reason Maria would ever call her.

"Is Alex okay?"

"Alex is fine.." Max cried out for Isabelle again from down the hall and Maria was sure that Isabelle could probably hear it. "It's Max - he got in.." she started to explain. He yelled again and as Maria looked down to the linoleum floor where a janitor was mopping up the trail of blood on the floor that Max had left, she lost her self-control and the sobs shook her body. "and he's bleeding," she stammered, wanting to explain more to Isabelle, but unable to control herself. "And he needs you - he keeps calling out for you...and there's all this blood," and Maria was shaking now. Max called out again and Alex immediately began running down the hall towards him.

"Max.." he called out over the din of doctors as he entered the room and he looked into Max's terrified eyes as they injected another shot into his arm. At first the doctors looked annoyed by Alex's presence, some tried to shoo him out. "Max, Isabelle is on her way - she's coming, Max.." he said calmly, like one would to a preschooler on their first day of school. Max's eyes, so full of fright for reasons unbeknownst to Alex, seemed to calm a bit at the words. Isabelle was on her way. Isabelle and Michael would come and help him.

"Max, huh?" the main doctor leaning over him, suddenly asked Max, seemingly cheerfully. Max didn't respond.

"What about, Liz?" he asked, his voice raspy now from all the yelling, and the third injection of sedative the doctors had given him beginning to sink in slightly. "Where's Liz?" he whispered. Alex had no idea how to answer the question, he had no idea how Liz was, they had whisked her away so quickly he hardly knew which direction she had gone. The doctor seemed surprised by the question, at the desperation in his voice when he'd asked it, despite how weak he probably felt right now from the three injections they had given him.

"What's he related to her or something?" he inquired quickly, turning towards Alex, who was standing at the foot of the bed.

"I - uh - they uh, they used to go out," he stumbled and though the doctor was a bit surprised that he was so frantic over merely someone he used to date, he
immediately turned to Max.

"Max, don't worry, buddy," he tried to comfort, " - your girlfriend's in good hands." And Alex seemed to find something wrong with the statement. Not in the fact that the doctor had said it, he was simply trying to calm Max, but in the words he said. Your girlfriend. He knew Liz was so much more than just Max's girlfriend and looking down at him, so worried for Liz, right now even moreso than himself, he felt a wave of guilt rush over him for keeping Max away from her for the past month. Max looked up to the doctor, his eyes no longer so full of fear.

"Where is she.." he asked breathlessly, everything around him suddenly beginning to grow dim and blurry. He fought to stay awake, he couldn't fall asleep. Who knows what tests they would run on him then. They had already taken blood, as much as he had tried to fight it. When they had, he had yelled for his sister. They had mumbled things to one another then about running blood tests and a transfusion and he had called for her again. 'Get my sister,' he had looked helplessly around to the doctors hovered around him, 'she's the same blood type - get my sister..' The fear he had felt the moment they began drawing blood from his arm was comparable only to the fear he had felt when he had seen Liz crumpled against the window.

"You don't worry about her, she's in good hands," the doctor repeated and Max couldn't help but notice that he hadn't said whether she was okay or not, he simply said she was in good hands. Max tried to ask how she was, but he felt too weak. A drowsiness overcame him and he tried to fight against it, but it began to consume his entire body. He stammered out a few syllables and Liz's name, managing to lift his head. Again the doctor gently pressed Max's head back down. "Max, look pal," he said kindly, "you have to calm down alright? Or it's gonna be hard for us to help you. You've gotta stop worrying about her, okay - you've gotta worry about yourself." And Alex looked to Max's panic-stricken face, realizing it was something that he would never do.




Isabelle and Michael came storming through the hospital doors at a dead run. Alex and Maria were sitting in the waiting room, Maria's hands were clasped together in front of her face and Alex was sitting with his hands resting on his thighs and his head in his hands.

"Where is he???" Isabelle immediately asked and Alex merely pointed down the hallway and she and Michael began racing down. It was down at the end of a long hallway, and had a foreboding feel to it and the minute Isabelle entered and saw the doctors hovering around her brother, her normally strong, cool and collected demeanor collapsed.

"Max.." she whispered, her breath catching in her throat as she began to head to the edge of the bedside. Michael merely stood in the doorway and looked to the IVs in Max's arm, to the doctors crowded around his bed and he began to back up to back out of the door and back down the hall.

"Max, it's me." Isabelle began to raise her voice as she looked to her brother. He wasn't unconscious, he wasn't asleep. His eyes were partially open, a drowsy look to them and it looked like he was struggling to keep them awake.

"No, no, no, no!" the doctor by Max's head suddenly turned to her. "Don't...." he shook his head, "Shhhh," he quieted her and Isabelle looked to him peculiarly. "We finally got him to calm down," he said delicately. "Don't get him up again."

"Max, I'm here now.." Isabelle couldn't help but whisper to her brother, whether he was asleep or not, he had to know that she was here now. At the remark another doctor turned to her.

"You Isabelle?" he demanded and when she nodded her head they all seemed to give a large sigh of relief. "Thank God..." he sighed, rolling his eyes and then he suddenly turned to her urgently. "You be willin' to give blood?" Isabelle was caught off guard at the statement and she suddenly realized why Max was so desperate to have her and Michael here. She nodded her head slowly and the head doctor suddenly called for two nurses and began giving them directions as one began to take Isabelle's arm and lead her down the hallway.

"But Mark, we need to run a blood test first!" One of the other doctors immediately protested.

"We need to give this kid blood," he said, the seriousness in his voice making Isabelle stop in her tracks. "Rob checked the records when he was yelling for her - they're the same blood type, that's all we need to know!" he shouted and the noise caused Max's eyes to flutter open slightly.

"I just - I just had a checkup last week," Isabelle suddenly covered, lying through her teeth, stressing the fact that there was no need to run tests on her blood either and all the while wondering what punishment you received exactly for lying to a doctor.

"Isabelle..." Max suddenly mumbled, sensing her presence in the room.

"Isabelle's here, she's going to help you.." the doctor tried to soothe.

"Liz.." he mumbled weakly again and again the doctor was struck by his devotion to this girl and he responded with the only thing he could.

"Liz is in good hands."


Michael had been walking towards the exit, ready to bolt from this hospital - where too many of his nightmares could come true and Isabelle was being led down the hallway by a short, heavyset nurse when she yelled out to him, catching him right before he swung the door open. Her mind had not been able to shake the seriousness of the doctor's voice just then 'we need to give this kid blood', nor could it shake the image of Max lying there on the bed. But then her mind returned to why she was being led down the hallway by this woman and she called for Michael again. "I need - I need to talk to him," Isabelle called urgently, turning to the Latino woman and trying to pull away, but she just shook her head.

"No - he need blood now," she responded, dragging Isabelle towards the room and she hoped Michael could hear the words the nurse had just spoken.

"I have to give blood, Michael," she called giving him a desperate and urgent look as she was led down the hall. Michael just stood there She mimed a needle in her arm with her hand, then motioned with her head to Max's room. And he knew. Jogging forward, he grabbed Maria and Alex by the arm and pulled them around the corner. He didn't know where they had gone with Max's blood, or what they had done with it, if they'd already examined it, but he had to devise a plan. Now.



Alex and Maria had been hesitant to help Michael. Scratch that, Alex had been hesitant to help Michael. Maria had been wary as to *why* they needed to help, but the minute she heard the desperation in his voice she agreed to anything he needed her to do. Alex was slower to accept.

"Why do you need Max's blood?" he asked and Michael began to grow annoyed.

"Can you ask questions later, please?" he tried to suppress his anger.

"No, look - I want to know why I'm being involved in a criminal act," Alex demanded and an idea suddenly sprung into his mind. "Wait, does this have anything to do with him fixing that hose in Maria's car?" Alex suddenly began to put pieces together. "What is he some kind of a freak?" Alex asked harshly and Michael bit his lip.

"Yeah, sorta.." he mumbled under his breath.

"Look, what does it matter what he is - what matters
is his life is in danger." Maria looked over to Michael suddenly, at the fear in his eyes and the urgency. She had never seen him like this before. Ever.

"Alex.." she pleaded and Alex just looked to her and then to Michael.

"Okay, so what do I have to do?" And a smile began to form on Michael's lips and he looked towards the tall and gawky, dark-haired boy, suddenly seeing what Isabelle saw in him. Whispering in hushed tones, and ducking their heads down low, Michael looked down the hall to where Max was and explained to them his plan.




After Max had finally fallen asleep, the third sedative doing what the first two had not, things began to calm down in the hospital, though it was far from tranquil. The word on Liz's condition was still unreleased, and Maria and Alex while helping Michael couldn't help but think about her the entire time. The blood crisis had created quite a stir in the hospital, as Max's blood upon first examination seemed anything but human. With the news spreading around the hospital that there was something amiss with the young patient's blood Alex, Michael and Maria had to work quickly. Maria was forced to throw herself upon a young, middle-aged doctor, flirting with him more than she would have liked, to keep him from walking in and discovering Michael and Alex switching Max's blood sample. Things had gotten close one too many times for them, and when Maria had been too consumed with fear to actually go through with it - the only thing that kept her going was the realization that if Liz was in fact okay, she would die if anything happened to Max. And with Alex's blood now serving as Max's, and analyzed again by two more doctors, it was deemed that there was something wrong with the first doctor and not the blood sample.

Truth was there were already questions arising over Max's condition. It had taken three powerful sedatives to calm him down and send him into sleep when one should have done the trick just fine. The doctors all kept their suspicions quiet, though they knew each of them was wondering the same thing. Then there had been the other problem with blood. The other very large problem. The blood Isabelle had donated hadn't been enough, but by law she wasn't able to donate anymore. So a woozy Isabelle stumbled around the hospital in a desperate search for Michael. The hospital had gotten chaotic then. Max needed the blood transfusion as soon as possible, and Isabelle's one donation wasn't going to do much.

Michael was in the process of switching blood samples, and when Isabelle had told him that he would have to donate blood he almost laughed.

"I thought you were doing that?" he asked and when she had told him that Max needed more he had seemed unnerved. Needles didn't do much for him. Just the thought of them made him uneasy. Nevertheless he had gone and donated his pint, and then as the nurse left them both to snack on their cookie and relax, Michael munching happily on it, Isabelle ordered Michael to take more from her arm. "What are you crazy?" Michael had spat. "Then it's gonna be you who needs the transfusion!" and Isabelle had just ignored him. "What're you gonna say when the doctors ask where that came from?" and Isabelle glared at him.

"Since when do you think things out?" She had shot back, but she couldn't help but wonder the same question. She and Michael were already underage to be donating blood, if she gave more than her legal amount suspicions would arise. "I'll say it was Maria," she looked outside to find Maria, but she and Alex were nowhere to be found.




Maria and Alex were both wandering the hospital halls, trying to find someone to tell them where Liz was and how she was doing. No one seemed to know however and they continued to roam the halls in search of their best friend. When Michael and Isabelle finally found them, they were in a somber mood, dragging their feet listlessly along the floor - their search unsuccessful - and when they explained to Michael and Isabelle why, they both had gone into a state of shock. They had, thus far, been unbeknownst to the fact that Liz was even in the hospital. They had been unbeknownst to the fact that Liz had been with Max last night at all. And Maria and Alex both seemed surprised by the level of concern the two both showed for Liz. When Maria had recounted the story of Max carrying Liz's limp body in his arms down the middle of the road, Isabelle had covered her face with her hands and Maria knew she was suppressing the cry that would have otherwise risen from her throat. Michael put a hand on Isabelle's shoulder attempting to comfort her, though he was clearly disturbed by the news too. Everything here seemed too much for Isabelle. Not just Liz, but her brother in the hospital. Having to lie, to break the law to save his life. Things like this didn't happen in their life and Alex could sense everything within her breaking down and he stepped forward and drew her to him. He wrapped his arms around her and Isabelle just held him tightly, burying her face into his shoulder. She drew away suddenly and looked to Maria, who seemed to be holding onto her sanity right now by a tiny strand.

"Is she okay?" Isabelle had asked worriedly and Maria and Alex had simply shrugged.



The number of doctors in Max's room had declined steadily as his condition grew better and better. The major problem had been the amount of blood loss, and with that solved, his other wounds were not difficult to heal. The large laceration down his arm, despite the appearance of being the most serious, was the easiest to heal. It had been treated and wrapped in a bandage and the gash on his forehead was treated carefully and covered with a bandage as well. It had been the cut on his side that had proved the most trouble. The doctors all deemed that it was the result of Max's seatbelt cutting into him, and his position in the car at the time that it had been - which happened to be leaning over in an awkward angle, protecting Liz, though the doctors were unaware. To make the injury worse, a piece of glass had been lodged in his side. That was what caused the constant flow of blood for five hours. Removing the tiny shard of glass had been difficult, but ultimately successful and the doctors were midway through stitching up his side when his eyes fluttered open.

For the amount of dosage Max had received, he was expected to be out all night and into tomorrow afternoon, none of the doctor's even noticed the slight movement of his eye.

"Did anyone notify his parents?" the doctor stitching Max's wound suddenly questioned and there was no response and he grumbled to himself. "Could someone get on that, please?" he asked, clearly irritated. "His name's Max.." The doctor, despite the fact that Max was asleep and he had hardly spoken with him, had begun to develop a relationship with the boy. He realized however, he didn't even know his last name. About to send someone out to find his sister, someone in the room suddenly realized something.

"It's Evans, Max Evans," he called out and when everyone looked to him with inquiring glances he simply responded, "he's on the basketball team." Still none of the doctors realized the faint motion of his eyes. Not until he opened his lips and murmured Liz's name did they look up to him and begin cussing.

"Dammit to hell," one of the doctors had grumbled frustratedly and when Max began to sit up, the one stitching his side quickly moved a hand to his forehead.

"Easy buddy..you gotta get back down or you're gonna tear these out, okay?" he warned kindly. "Alright, we're almost through, you just gotta relax - someone get him so local anesthesia here?" the doctor stopped his work, imagining just how painful it must be to feel the stitches still taut on your body. Max didn't seem to notice however. His mind was concerned on one thing only.

"Where's Liz?" he whispered, looking around the room, down at the bandage on his arm. He had obviously been treated but what about Liz.

"You just relax here, Max - you'll be alright..." the doctor attempted to calm him. The last thing any of them needed was Max getting frantic and pulling out all the stitches they'd just put in, not to mention the IVS in his arm.

"Where is she??" the urgency in his voice began to grow as he looked around the room wildly. The last thing he remembered Isabelle was here, and someone had mumbled something about Liz being in good hands. But where was she then.

"If you just calm down for a second, partner we'll be all done and I can go check - see how she's doing, okay?" he agreed and the hope in Max's eyes at the suggestion seemed to soothe his otherwise tense muscles.
"That's good.." the doctor eased as he could feel Max's muscles relax. "I'll be all done here in a little while and I'll go run and see how Liz is doing.." the doctor eased and Max's muscles relaxed some more. "She's with Dr. Lowery, he's an excellent doctor," he continued, "I'm sure she'll be just fine." One of the doctors gave him a wary look at the comment. They had all seen the girl that Max had run in with, making promises that weren't exactly definite might not be the best thing. But the doctor seemed to realize that the more he talked about Liz, the more Max's muscles seemed to relax and the more his body seemed to fall into that peaceful state it had been in for the past two hours.



Max's parents came racing through the hospital doors, much in the same manner as Michael and Isabelle, and shattered the otherwise deathly still quiet in the hospital. Isabelle stood up as she saw her parents and they ran to her.

"Oh my goodness, Isabelle!" they called and Isabelle could tell that her mother had been crying. She stood up from where she, Alex, Michael and Maria had been resting. Mrs. Evans immediately drew her daughter to her and hugged her tightly.

"I think he's going to be okay, mom," Isabelle said the words confidently and her father immediately questioned as to Max's whereabouts. Isabelle motioned down the hall where a doctor was shedding off his surgical gloves and walking quickly down the hall. They stopped him and before they could even ask a single question he greeted them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans," he moved his hands onto each shoulder. They looked to him demandingly, their faces filled with worry and fear. The pause between their names and the next few words was the longest wait of their lives. "Your son's going to be fine." They sighed loudly and Mrs. Evans gave her husband a grateful look. "He's resting right now," and the doctor caught himself, "or at least we hope he's resting - he's been pretty..." he hesitated on the details about the screaming, "- active all morning. We're just trying to get him to relax a bit," he explained, but before either parent could ask another question the doctor began backing down the hall. They looked surprised at his quick departure and he turned to them. "I'm sorry - I promised him I'd see how the girl was doing..." And at the remark Mr. and Mrs. Evan's faces both
dropped.

"The girl?" she turned to Isabelle. "But Liz wasn't..." her voice drifted and Isabelle simply nodded her head. "Oh dear God," Mrs. Evans held her hands to her breast, "do the Parkers know??" And the thought struck Isabelle that no one had bothered to call Liz's parents, not like any of them had the nerve to. How exactly do you go about giving news like that? "Well someone better," Mrs. Evans said it, not so much as a criticism, but as an empathetic gesture towards the parents. "Is she - is she okay?" And Isabelle didn't answer. She couldn't bring herself to tell her mom what Maria had told her. About how Liz had looked. How Max had looked.

She looked down the hall; the doctor was now running towards Liz's room, wherever that may be and to ease her clearly shaken parents - and herself, she led them by the arm down the hall to Max's room. Maybe seeing him resting would give them some peace of mind. As they walked towards the room however, the same short and stout nurse who had taken Isabelle's blood was closing the door. Isabelle opened up her mouth to protest, and the nurse just patted her on the arm.

"You're a good girl," she smiled widely, "you save your brother's life." And she turned a sign over on the doorknob. DO NOT DISTURB.

Isabelle moved to open the door anyway, and her parents were still looking to her with bewildered and concerned looks as to how she saved Max's life.

"No, no," the nurse scolded, removing Isabelle's hand from the door. "He resting."

"But please," Isabelle pleaded with the nurse, and the woman looked to Isabelle's desperate face then to the eyes of the parents.

"Must be quick," she warned and she slowly turned the handle and swung open the door.

The last time Isabelle had seen Max, the room she stood in now had been a disorderly, chaotic mess, with doctors shouting across to one another and Max had barely been awake. She looked at him now. His hair was neatly combed over and there was a large bandage that ran around his head. He had a large white bandage that covered his entire forearm, and Isabelle recalled that he had had a large cut running up the length of his lower arm. He was hooked up to an IV and his shirt was rolled up around his stomach and there was a large bandage running around his stomach. Max didn't even seem to notice their parents. He was sitting upright and forward but his head was turned to the wall and he seemed to be in deep reflection.

"Max," his mother was the first one to speak, "Max sweetheart, it's us." And Max quickly turned his head to see Isabelle and both his parents standing in the doorway. Michael slowly joined them from behind. He wanted to smile. To show them that he was okay, but at the same time he didn't have the energy and he didn't want to lie.

"Hey.." he managed to say.

"You okay?" his father suddenly inquired and Max wanted to say yes. He wanted to more than anything. He didn't care about himself however, who cares how he was. That didn't matter.

"Where's Liz?" he posed the same question he had posed to the doctors. "How is she?" He asked again.

"Max, honey.." his mother seemed more worried with her son and discussing how he was but Max began to grow angry now. He was sick of people not answering him when he asked that question.

"How is she?" his parents both seemed surprised at the level of anger and passion in his voice. Still there was no response, as no one truly knew the answer. "How is she?" he repeated, and seeing how he was beginning to grow angry, the nurse quickly shooed them out of the room.

"You need to go," she pushed Isabelle out the door behind her family, and Max suddenly began to feel guilty for being so harsh to his parents. To Isabelle, who he knew had probably saved his life. He watched as the nurse shoved his family out the door and mumble over and over again, "He need his rest."



Mr. and Mrs. Evans sat one side of the waiting room and Isabelle, Michael, Alex and Maria sat across from them on the other. All their eyes were focused on the hallway that Max's doctor had raced down. It had been almost three hours and still there had been no word on Liz's condition. Michael, in an attempt to be positive, pointed out that if she'd been dead they all would have been notified by now. Isabelle had whacked him on the arm then, but Maria had quickly rushed to his defense.

"No, he's right.." she sniffled, "if something...I mean if Liz were..." she found herself unable to say the words, "they would have told us already...I think she's - I mean.." and before Maria could finish Max's doctor came racing down the hallway and the Parkers came bounding through the door. They all got to their feet, but he held out his hand - as if to say 'wait' - and ran straight to Max's closed door.

As he had guessed, Max wasn't asleep by any means. He was wide awake and was calmly looking at the wall next to him. When he turned and saw the doctor his eyes flashed wide open. And part of him feared to ask.

"Dr. Lowery's doing everything he can.." the doctor said honestly and Max already didn't like the news. "But she still hasn't..." the doctors voice drifted, and Max turned his head back to face the wall.

"She's not awake.." he said dryly and the doctor's heart went out to him.

"Good news is that it's just her head," Max wasn't any happier by the news, he already knew that. "Really compared to the injuries you sustained...she's lucky -" and no sooner were the words out of her mouth than he wanted to take them back.

"Lucky?" Max shot suddenly, and he turned his head to face the doctor, his eyes were burning with passion and the doctor was overwhelmed by them. "She's in a coma - and she's lucky?" Max's voice shook and the doctor immediately attempted to repair the damage he's just inflicted.

"She's not in a coma," he quickly said. "You have to know that, she's not in a coma.." He stressed, but he could tell by the look in Max's eyes that she might as well be. "And it's not that she's lucky...it's just incredible with the amount of injuries you have - you got cracked ribs, you're bruised, you're cut up - it's incredible she's not worse off." The words did nothing to help Max. He already knew everything the doctor was saying. Because he had healed everything else on Liz. The cracked ribs, the badly broken leg, the cuts, scrapes and bruises all over her body. He had done everything in his power to help her. But she still had been awake to feel it all at one point. She had still had that moment where she'd woken up and looked around the jeep in the darkness and had been so filled with terror. "Max, Dr. Lowery's with her - he's the best doctor we have in this building," the doctor finally spoke, but the words still did nothing to comfort Max.

"I want to see her," he suddenly said, beginning to lean up in the bed and the doctor quickly moved and gently pressed him back down again and for the first time Max fought against it.

"Max..." the doctor called warningly, but Max began to struggle against him, thrashing his legs in an effort to remove himself from the bed. "Max, you're gonna hurt yourself," the doctor called again, though he realized by now that Max didn't care what happened to him. Without the doctor even resisting him, he slowly let up his struggle and leaned his head back down on the bed. And the doctor watched as tears began to slip down Max's red and angry face. He watched as his face lost it's strong and determined look and signs of vulnerability finally began to show on the patient who had thus far been so strong. Everything within Max began to collapse, any hope he had been harboring inside began to escape him and he didn't even try to stifle any of the sobs that had begun to shake his body.

The waiting room that for so long had been quiet, now had grown chaotic and frenzied. Mr. and Mrs. Parker were demanding answers about Liz's condition from everyone, they were demanding answers about what had happened from Maria, Alex, Isabelle and Michael but no one had answers. Mr. Parker was in the process of interrogating Michael over the night's events and Michael was having difficulty biting his tongue and keeping his mouth shut. The door to Max's room opened and all eyes turned to Max's doctor who was slowly moving down the hall. He was holding his hand to his forehead his head between his thumb and middle finger. He rubbed his face with his hand, a thoroughly distressed look on his face. He couldn't shake the memory of the seventeen year old boy breaking down in front him, not seeming to mind that he had even been in the room. Everyone immediately began swarming around him, each posing question after question, but the doctor immediately turned to the Evans.

"Mr. and Mrs. Evans," he separated them from the group. "I'm sorry about earlier," he referred to his hasty dismissal from them more than forty five minutes earlier. "I just - I promised him -"

"No, no it's - we appreciate it," Mr. Evans began to dismiss.

"Max is alright...." the doctor stated, the irony in his words stung. He almost felt like he was lying to them, considering Max had just seemed to have a total breakdown back in his room. "He has several contusions and a lot of external injuries" he explained to the nervous parents. "He suffered very minor head trauma - and I'd still like to keep him here for a few days.." Both parents nodded their head in understanding, though the words seemed unreal. Mrs. Evans suddenly seemed to remember an issue that had been plaguing her for the past forty minutes.

"The nurse said something about Isabelle saving his life - what about - how does," she inquired worriedly - the doctor seeming to be downplaying Max's injuries.

"Your son sustained severe blood loss," the doctor explained as calmly as possible. "He was cut from his stomach," the doctor motioned on his own abdomen, "around to what would be the back of his rib cage - we think by the seatbelt. And a piece of glass was...embedded in the wound," at the comment Mrs. Evans closed her eyes in horror, merely talking about the injury and thinking about it, thinking about what Max had suffered, bothered her. "That's really what caused all the uh - the bleeding and blood loss. Well, carrying her around for four hours didn't do much to help stop it -"

"What?" Mrs. Evans shot her head up at the comment.

"Well - yeah, putting the strain on those muscles and holding her like that, just..lodges it in deeper -" the doctor began to explain.

"He carried her?? Mrs. Evans' mouth dropped open.

"Yeah - had her in his arms when he brought her in here." And her face was touched and at the same time completely shocked by the comment. Even her typically stolid husband seemed moved by the statement. Silence prevailed for a few moments and the doctor immediately turned his attention back to the medical issues. "Anyway he had lost a significant amount of blood and Isabelle - that's your daughter's name, right?" he checked suddenly and they nodded their heads, surprised at the fact that he knew her name. "Isabelle had to donate some blood, and uh " he motioned to his hair with his hands, "I don't know is that his brother?" The Evans knew he was referring to Michael and they shook their heads quickly.

"He's a friend."

"He donated some blood and uh..they both.." the doctor didn't want to say saved his life, the parents were both shaken up enough, and his voice drifted.

"Was it..I mean was he in - "

"Things were pretty serious," he nodded his head, "he should be alright now though.... because of the blood loss and the transfusion he's going to stay here for a few days just to make sure everything goes smooth, and uh get him back on his feet and.." the doctor paused before saying the next few words. "And he's pretty shaken up."

"I can only imagine," Mrs. Evans nodded her head, but the doctor sensed that she could never imagine any of what Max had gone through.

"What's happened with Liz..." his voice drifted again and both parents again seemed surprised by the fact that he knew her name. "He's taking it - " hard would be a drastic understatement and his eyes shifted about the room and he noticed who must have been Mr. and Mrs. Parker pacing nervously out in the waiting room. "If you'll excuse me again - " he broke off his sentence midway through. "I'd just like to talk to them."

"Of course," they both nodded and as the doctor began to walk towards the anxious and nervous parents in the waiting room, he spotted Liz's doctor from down the hall.

"Oh good, there's Dr. Lowery," he said aloud and at the comment Mr. and Mrs. Evans immediately inquired about his name.

"Hastings, Dr. Hastings - just uh feel free to call me Mark." He began to walk towards the doctor to learn more about Liz's status, hoping it had changed in the last ten minutes for Max's sake.

"Mark, thank you..." Mrs. Evans said gratefully, knowing that he was treating Max's case on a highly personal level. "For going to check on Liz for him, and -" but he interrupted her before she could finish.

"It's no problem - he's a special kid," he immediately responded and he looked back down the hallway to Max's room. "He care's a lot for her."



"What the hell is going on? How did all of this happen?" Mr. Parker demanded uncharacteristically of the amiable looking doctor standing in front of him. Dr. Lowery was perfectly understanding of to the man's behavior and he allowed him to inquire question after question before finally opening up his mouth to explain everything going on with Liz.

"Your daughter sustained severe head trauma," he finally said and Mrs. Parker appeared to go into shock. "Now she hasn't woken up yet -"

"What is she in a coma??" Alex suddenly butted into the conversation, as the question was about to be posed by Mr. Parker himself.

"She's not in a coma - she just has not regained consciousness."

"Well what's the difference?" Mrs. Parker questioned. "We're waiting for her to wake up - isn't that just like a -"

"We've got much more reason to hope here," Dr. Lowery said honestly. "Now she could fall into a coma..that's actually highly probable." Mr. Parker closed his eyes in disbelief to everything going on. His daughter in a coma. He turned quickly around to Alex and Maria, but his stare rested on Michael and Isabelle who he knew were Max's two closest friends.

"What happened with Max?" he demanded. "The customers told me Liz left with him last night and now - the next time I hear anything about her she's in the hospital - what the hell happened with Max? What the hell did he do?" Mr. Parker unleashed the helplessness he felt at the moment onto Isabelle and Michael. Onto Max.

"Your daughter owes her life to that boy!" Dr. Hastings suddenly entered the conversation, rushing to Max's defense and everyone looked at him a bit bewilderedly. Even Dr. Lowery. "He did everything he could for her, he's lying in that hospital bed right now because of what he did for her!" Everyone looked at him astonished not only by the revelation, but by the fire with which he was saying it. "He risked his *own* life for your daughter, understand that." He said it with a large amount of criticism and he suddenly seemed to realize that he was getting too personal in this case. Something inside him told him however, not to stop. Not to stop the attachment he had formed with Max. Everyone but Maria and Alex seemed shocked by the news. Because no one else had seen Max when he had stumbled down the road with Liz, they hadn't seen him stagger into the hospital - ignoring his own treatment and demanding Liz's. Mr. Parker looked to Dr. Lowery, almost seeming to be looking to him for confirmation of the statement.

"She would of been a lot worse off if he hadn't brought her in when he had," he admitted and Mr. Parker's face remained emotionless. He didn't offer an apology to anybody, he just stood there. "The important thing here is that if she does wake up - there's most likely going to be minimal to no damage to her memory, or to her speech or -" but he didn't finish he was interrupted by Mr. Parker, who stated what was on everyone's mind.

"If she wakes up..."




It was hard to believe that it was only ten in the morning. So much had happened and it seemed as if days had gone by since Maria and Alex had first spotted Max on that closed road. It had seemed as if days had gone by since Isabelle had given blood, since Michael had escaped around the hospital security. But if it had seemed like days for them, it seemed like years for Max. Despite the constant urgings for him to rest and get some sleep he couldn't. Because each time he did, he saw him and Liz tumbling down the hill, he saw her terrified face when she had awoken in the jeep, when she had hugged him tightly - her body shaking, the look in her eyes when she had told him to go and get help. The last thing she had done before she lost
consciousness.

A nurse came in to check on Max close to every half hour and every half hour he was doing the same thing. Sitting upright, but staring at the wall to the right of the bed. Twelve o'clock rolled around and lunch was brought to him. Three hours later, the macaroni and cheese was cold and the ham and cheese sandwhich was hard and stale. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat. He hardly moved. Dr. Hastings came in to check on him twice during his busy schedule to find him in the same position each time. And he was tempted to say something to Max, but the word on Liz's condition hadn't changed much. Max barely looked at him when he came in, and when his parents came in he mumbled a few words acknowledgement and that was all. The truth was he wanted to talk to them, but he found himself unable to. Each time he opened up his mouth, the same words came out of it. How's Liz? Dr. Hastings came in for the third time of the day, but this time when he did he had a package in his hand.

"Hey Max," he pulled the gift out of the box in his hands, "your sister and I both thought you might like to have a radio here with you." He put it next to Max's bed but his expression didn't change much. His lip quivered and that was all. Not expecting much to happen, Dr. Hastings merely stood by the bed for up to five minutes. He looked to the untouched food tray and then back to Max. Food was vital for a quick recovery. But he knew telling Max that wouldn't do much to make him eat. He simply began to walk towards the door, and as he turned the handle Max's voice sounded out for him.

"Can you get my sister.." he called, not stirring from his bed.

"Yeah, sure," Dr. Hastings replied quickly, glad that he was at least showing some signs of life for companionship. "Yeah, I'll go get her."

"Thanks.." Max replied and he turned as the doctor began to walk out the door. "Thanks," he repeated again, hoping that the doctor had heard it.


Isabelle and everyone else in the waiting room had been taken aback when Dr. Hastings came in and told them that Max had requested her. Isabelle had been surprised herself and she stood up, seeming almost nervous as she walked towards the room.

She found him in the same position she had found him almost two hours ago, then he hadn't said anything to her. But now he actually turned his head to face her.

"How is she?" he asked and Isabelle shouldn't have been surprised by the question. "I mean you have to have seen her by now and no one else'll be honest with me..." Isabelle's heart went out to him. "I just need to know how she is," he pleaded.

"She's asleep, Max - I mean it doesn't...it doesn't *look* like anything's wrong, but..." she paused, unsure as to whether she wanted to reveal the next bit of information and at the same time knowing Max needed to know everything. "The doctors say she could slip into a coma.." Max's expression didn't change much, he swallowed, blinked his eyes and that was all.

"It's my fault, Iz.." he suddenly said.

"Max - it's not," Isabelle was quick to correct.

"Isabelle you weren't even there...it's - it's my fault, I was driving.."

"Max, you can't do that - okay, this kinda stuff just happens."

"Not to Liz," Max said simply, he inhaled deeply for a moment. "It's not supposed to happen to Liz...the first day I saw her, I promised myself I would never let anything happen to her. Never let anything hurt her," he admitted.

"Max -"

"But I did...I hurt her," he said it and his voice cracked at the realization - not only referring to Liz's condition right now, but the past month. Isabelle didn't say anything, and Max just turned his head back to the wall. He looked to the IV machine he was hooked up to, the heart rate monitor - the fact that he was in the hospital period. "Thank you, Iz.." he suddenly looked up to his sister. "Whatever you did with the blood..."

"Michael really did it -"

"You saved my life," he finished.

"You saved hers." But Max seemed more than troubled by the comment. Isabelle left and he turned his head back to the wall.





*If I fall along the way
pick me up and dust me off
and if I get too tired to make it
be my breath so I can walk*

The radio blared loudly in Max's room. It had been playing almost since Dr. Hastings had brought it in. Matchbox 20 had been on the radio almost four times already that day. And each time the song seemed to come on, Max seemed to turn it up. Each time the song played, it seemed to be the time that his parents came in. And Max would just sit up motionless in his bed, seeming to be listening intently to the lyrics. A sadness growing over him with each verse.

*If I need some other love
give me more than I can stand
and when my smile gets old and faded
wait around I'll smile again*

It began to be his theme song, though no one was sure if it applied to his situation, or to Liz's. But each time the song came on, a wave of sadness seemed to sweep over his body and all the muscles in his face tightened. He'd stop looking to the wall when it came on, he'd look out in front of him, and to the door.

*Shouldn't be so complicated
Just hold me and then
just hold me again*

By eleven thirty PM there had been no change in Liz's status, nor any change in Max's. Maria and Alex, who had been up for much more than twenty-four hours finally headed home, as did Isabelle and Michael. The Evans had been ready to stay in the hospital over night, and normally they would have. They would have thought that Max would have wanted them to. He always talked about how he hated hospitals. But they both knew, though they didn't discuss it, that the one person who would give Max comfort, couldn't.

*Can you help me I'm bent
I'm so scared that I'll never
get put back together*

His parents had bid goodbye, and Max had managed a listless 'goodbye' from his lips. Dr. Hastings had promised he would watch after Max and he promised to call them if any change ever occurred in Liz. And he had looked to Max then and said the same thing, putting his hand on his leg. Max had not responded.

He sat upright in his bed now, the song playing loudly and ringing in his ears. The look on his face saying everything.

*Shouldn't be so complicated
Just touch me and then
just touch me again*

And he swung his legs over the side of the bed, and slowly pulled himself up. Dragging the IV with him, Max slowly walked to the door. The hallway was empty. For eleven thirty at night, supposedly the peak hospital hours, the only people there were the nurses and even they seemed to blend in with the hospital surroundings. Max didn't know where Liz's room was, but somehow he knew where to walk. His feet led him and as if drawn by some outside force, he ended up outside her door. He could see her frail
body in the bed between the blinds and he turned the doorknob and walked through the door.

Isabelle was right. She looked peaceful, she didn't look like anything was wrong with her. Her chest rose and fell steadily, her face was clean - she looked fine. Except for the horrible tubes that were running up her nose. Max stood there in a state of shock, almost feeling sick at the sight. Knowing he had done this to Liz. He wanted to break down right there and tell her he was sorry. That he was sorry for everything. That if he hadn't broken things off with her in the first place none of this would have happened. But he didn't. He wheeled the IV slowly over to a chair next to her bed and sat down. And that was where he stayed. His eyes remained open and he just watched her. He watched her chest rise and fall, watched her inhale, watched her sit there seemingly at peace. He glanced over at a clock quickly, realizing it was past midnight. It had been twenty-four hours since he had first awaken in the jeep and seen her there. His eyes remained open throughout the night as he watched her, but when Dr. Lowery came in to check on Liz early that morning he found Max asleep in the chair.




The images remained in Isabelle's mind. Max and Liz tumbling down the hill in the darkness. Then a flash of white and she saw Liz clinging onto her brother inside the jeep as he moved to help her out, then another flash and she saw, what appeared to be, him healing her leg. Then another and she heard his voice echoing 'I won't leave you'. Each time Isabelle closed her eyes she saw them. And now when she looked at Max huddled in a chair next to Liz's bed she did. She heard his voice, his words to Liz - 'I won't leave you'.

She didn't want to tell her brother that she had tried to go dreamwalking with Liz. It had been Michael's idea really. And last night when she had finally headed home, she dragged out the yearbook and opened up to Liz's picture. Everything had been distorted, blurry and seemingly out of focus. Everything was in darkness, almost in black and white, the only color was the blood. It had been more than disturbing, it had been sickening. Isabelle had woken up in a sweat, gasping for breath. Michael had been right there with her, but she couldn't make out any words to describe what she had seen.

And now she looked in at her brother through the outside window. He just sat in the chair and he held Liz's hand in his. It was odd, she thought, how Liz's parents had been so upset by the occurrences yesterday, yet they hadn't even spent the night in the hospital. Maybe they were planning to the next night. She had come to the hospital right after her disturbing dream walk, and when she didn't find Max in his room she knew exactly where to look. She had left a message on the machine for her parents, telling them where she was. Glancing down at her watch and realizing it was two in the morning, Isabelle was torn as to what to do. Go home and get sleep or stay here with her brother. Quietly, she opened up the door and stepped into Liz's room. Max looked up quickly to see Isabelle standing there and his gaze quickly returned to Liz. He was no doubt perplexed as to why she was here, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you mind if I just...I just sit with you?" Isabelle questioned and Max just shrugged. There was an empty chair next to him and Isabelle just sat down next to him. After seeing what she had in her dreamwalk she didn't want Max to be alone.



Close to two hours went by, with Max just sitting there in silence looking at Liz, and Isabelle sitting in silence looking at her brother. He didn't move or stir at all, and at first she didn't even realize he had fallen asleep - his hand remained wrapped around Liz's. It was closing in on four o'clock and thinking about her poor, distraught parents alone at home - most likely getting no sleep - Isabelle quietly stood up from the chair and began to creep away. Max shifted slightly in the chair when she did, but that was all. And so she slowly walked out of the hospital, all the while the words in her dreamwalk, her brother's promise ringing in her head - *I won't leave you* And with the image of her brother at Liz's bedside in her mind, she realized that he was fullfilling his promise. He wouldn't leave her. Not again.



Dr. Lowery hadn't moved Max when he had first seen him by Liz's bed. He had allowed him to remain in the chair, and despite his promise to himself to never get emotionally involved with any of his patients, he couldn't help but be touched by the sight. Things like this just didn't happen in Roswell. The hospital got it's share of car accidents and many were more serious than this case was - but there were never relationships like this or stories like this. Max and Liz, despite having only been in the hospital for twenty four hours, were the talk of the receptionists desk, the talk of the nurses, of the doctors, and of the surgeons. Most found it hard to believe they were only in high school, and when Dr. Hastings was asked about Max's character, he merely replied with a whistle between his teeth. "That is an intense young man," he had replied. Dr. Lowery looked over to Max's sleeping form from across the bed. It was an odd word to charactize the boy. Intense. He was so quiet and seemingly reserved, sure his first hour in the hospital he had done nothing but cry out for Liz and for his sister, but intense still seemed like an incorrect word to describe him. He hadn't made any impassioned speeches demanding to see Liz, or had a furious rampage where he had demanded that the doctors heal her now. He didn't talk and according to Dr. Hastings, he
didn't eat and he didn't sleep. But that was what made him intense. And Dr. Lowery looked to the unconscious body in the bed, whose hand Max had in his. She was what made him intense.



All the hospital attendants had been afraid to move Max, to wake him up even. Dr. Lowery himself didn't have the nerve to wake the boy and instead he sent one of the nurses out to search the hospital for Dr. Hastings. Dr. Hastings had had a busy night and hadn't even been able to check on Max all night, so when he heard from a fellow employee that Dr. Lowery was waiting and a nurse was scouring the halls for him he feared the worst. He had broken off his conversation with a fellow employee midway through and, not even bothering to take the elevator, raced down the stairs to Max's floor. He had been intending to go visit Max in another hour or so, to see if he had eaten anything over the course of the night. If not it would be over twenty four hours without nourishment of any kind except for the IV. Now - if Dr. Lowery was looking for him, if something had happened to Liz - Max would...well he didn't even want to think of that. He raced around the desk and paused at the intersection - he didn't know whether to go to Max's room or to Liz's. Either way he was sure he would be greeted with bad news.

When he burst through the door to Liz's room, only to see Dr. Lowery standing on one side of the bed and Max asleep in the other, a smile played on his lips. He didn't even expect Max to be able to get out of his chair, nevertheless walk down the hall by himself. But there he was, sleeping - finally sleeping - with Liz's hand in his.

"She's..." he checked suddenly and Dr. Lowery shook his head.

"She's the same, I just..well, I didn't want to wake him," he admitted and Dr. Hastings just smiled again and he walked slowly over to Max. He hated to wake him, he hated to disturb him as he knew just holding Liz's hand probably gave Max so much peace of mind. But Liz's parents would be arriving soon and Dr. Lowery and the nurses would be in and out throughout the day. Part of him wished he could somehow move Max's bed around so he could be in the same room as her. He began to open his mouth to ask Dr. Lowery about it, but he knew the answer and so he just crouched down in front of Max.

"Max.." he whispered softly and Max murmured Liz's name from between his lips, his eyes still closed. "Max buddy, it's me," Dr. Hastings said softly and he carefully moved his arms underneath Max's body. "Help me out with this," he grimaced, Max heavier than his wiry frame looked. Dr. Hastings motioned with his head to the IV connected to Max. He was in an awkward position, the IV on one side of the chair, he on the other and Max's hand still linked in Liz's to the left. He felt horrible breaking their hands apart, finding it remarkable that even in sleep their hands were together. And as he gently pulled Max's body away he realized, not only that Max's hand was wrapped firmly around hers, but that Liz's was as well. "John.." Dr. Hastings whispered suddenly in amazement to Dr. Lowery as his eyes remained fixed on Liz's hand. Dr. Lowery quickly spun his head around and looked and the same look of shock seemed to cross his face. It wasn't as if she had her hand tightly wrapped around his, but despite the fact that she was not awake, that she had not been for over twenty- four hours, she was indeed holding Max's hand.



Max awoke hours later, confused by what had happened, by the night's events. He had walked to Liz's room he knew he had, Isabelle had come in and sat with him somewhere along the line, but now here he was back in his room. Panic began to spread over him quickly. He knew it hadn't been a dream, it couldn't have been. It was all too real. He had sat by Liz's bed and he had held her hand throughout the night. A confused and distressed look crossed his face and he slowly began to remove himself from the bed again, just as the door opened and Dr. Hastings walked in.

"Whoa - where you going, hold up there, buddy," he rushed immedietly to Max's bedside. Max didn't respond, but he didn't fight against the doctor and just rested back onto the bed. "I know where you're goin'," the doctor sat down next to Max's bed and Max opened up his mouth to say something, but Dr. Hastings continued. "I don't have a problem with it, in fact I can't even believe you were able to get down there last night," Max's head shot up - so he had gotten up last night. "But I really want to see you get that IV out of your arm, I know you do too. And once you do, you can go visit her whenever you want - without having to drag that..stupid thing along," he looked to the IV and so did Max. Then the doctor looked to the untouched breakfast next to Max. "You gotta eat though, buddy - or that's not comin 'off." He paused for a moment. "So will you eat? For Liz's sake?" He said the words and Max's head immedietly shot up. He could tell Max was trying to figure out how his eating had anything to do with Liz's waking up and the doctor stood up. "You being in there with her..." he hesitated, "Dr. Lowery and I came in this morning and...Max, she was holding your hand." And he could tell Max looked skeptical, he shook his head.

"I was holding her hand," he confessed, "It wasn't her - I was -"

"Max, she was holding it back," Dr. Hastings shook his head now and although Max still looked doubtful he repeated the words. "She was holding your hand."




Whether it was the revelation of Liz's miraculous signs of life that morning, or it was simply the thought of being rid of the IV, Max ate his breakfast that morning and he ate his entire lunch as well. Dr. Hastings had advised him to stay in bed all day to work up his strength. He promised he would allow him to visit Liz later tonight and tomorrow, depending on how he was doing, the IV would come out. Max still didn't do much throughout the day though. He still looked to be in the same mental state of anguish and reflection and he barely talked to anyone. His parents were worried, though Dr. Hastings urged them not to be. He had communicated with him and Max was already showing signs of progress towards a surprisingly quick recovery. They still were unnerved by it all however. By the accident, by his lack of communication, his lack of energy or any signs of life except when it came to Liz. Dr. Hastings had revealed to them where Max had slept last night, but though they were glad to hear he had gotten out of bed, the statement only troubled them. The whole idea of Max and Liz did. They had had no idea that he and Liz were so serious. They knew he felt for her and that he cared for her, but when it came to a matter of not talking and not eating, it worried them. And though they felt selfish by it, when it came down to Max not talking to them at all, it bothered them.

It bothered the Parkers too. It bothered them that Max had slept in her room, next to her that night. It bothered them that somewhere along the line, over the past few months, Liz had formed a bond with Max so intense and so serious - that she now cared for him as much, if not more than them. That right now, the signs of life she had shown, the signs of promise had been holding Max's hand. They didn't want to feel this way, they wanted to be happy - she had shown promise of recovery - but they couldn't be. Somewhere, somehow their baby girl had done much more than fall in love. She was in a relationship now so intense, so powerful and so strong that it frightened them.




*I think I've already lost you
I think you're already gone
I think I'm finally scared now*



Each minute that went by seemed to cut deeper into Max's heart. Each minute that he just lay there in the bed, and he knew Liz lay down the hall in her bed he fell deeper into the depression that had begun to consume him since he had first awoken in the jeep and seen her lying there, since he had first feared she had been dead. He shuddered just thinking about it. But that wasn't what nearly brought him to tears. That wasn't what made him sit their in quiet reflection, oblivious to the rest of the world. It was the knowledge that he had done this to her, that this was his fault - the thought that if she did wake up she wouldn't forgive him. It had seemed like for that brief moment when he had confessed to her everything that he had felt, it had seemed like she had forgiven him. But now...

Now he had put her in the hospital, now she was in danger of falling into a coma. Now he was scared. Scared more than he thought he could ever be. Scared of the way he hadn't been able to talk to his family about anything. Scared of the way that when he had ventured out of his room to ask a nurse for more water Mr. Parker had stared at him. Scared of the way his own parents did. Scared that the only people who would tell him the truth about Liz were his sister and a complete stranger.

Time dragged on for Max. It was the slowest day of his life. He just sat there waiting for someone to come through the door with news about Liz. Good news or bad news, he sat there and waited. And waited and waited. And then it happened.




Maria and Alex were resting in Liz's room, doing the same thing Max was doing, except by Liz's bedside. Her parents were in the waiting room, talking to the Evans waiting for the same thing everyone else was wating for. News of some sort. Alex and Maria sat close to Liz, talking to her softly every now and then but after a while they both became silent. No one expected anything to happen. They were all praying and hoping something would, but not believing that anything would. After thirty-six hours, Dr. Lowery had said as politely as possible that if she had not woken up the likelihood of her falling into a coma was huge. So at first no one noticed the slight twitch of her finger. Dr. Hastings - who had kept as close tabs on Liz as he had on Max - walked in for a brief moment, merely to retrieve the clipboard he had left next to her bed. And she shifted her head the tiniest bit.

"Max..." she whispered softly and Dr. Hastings jerked his head around immedietly at the comment. "Max," she whispered again, this time clearer than the last and her head twitched.

"Get Max," Dr. Hastings ordered suddenly to the nurse behind him.

"But sir - you said not to disturb him -"

"Get him!!" Dr. Hastings shouted and the nurse immedietly began racing down the hallway.

"What - what's going on?" Mr. and Mrs. Parker demanded getting to their feet as they watched the nurse sprint down the hall and race into Max's room. They couldn't make out anything that she said to him, but they immedietly heard the nurse shout to him, almost seeming to be scolding him. And they watched as Max came tearing out of his room and around the corner at a dead run. The Parkers ran down the hall after him, and following them was Mr. and Mrs. Evans, Michael and Isabelle. And they heard the nurse running after them, yelling for Dr. Hastings about how Max had ripped out his IV. But they didn't hear anything. They all ran to Liz's room.


*If you're gone
maybe its time to come home
There's an awful lot of breathing room
but I can hardly move*


Liz hadn't made any other movements since murmuring Max's name, but they all watched as Max rushed to her bedside. They watched as he clasped both his hands around hers and they saw the muscles in her hand tighten around his. And her eyes fluttered open.


*If you're gone
maybe you need to come home
There's a little bit of something me
in everything in you*

That's the end of this story. If you want to read more go on to "Learning to Live Again"