A/N: Okay, guys - I know I said I'd have this part out before June ended but you know those "small computer" issues I mentioned before? Well, they turned into big computer issues because there's definitely something wrong with it. I don't know if I have a loose connection inside or what but I was so pissed - I thought I had lost all my work for this next part that I had saved on my computer. So I consider this a miracle that I even got on.
Here's the deal. I'm going to try and have someone take a look at my computer - don't know when that will be; however, if I run into any more problems and can't post - I'll find time to get to a library computer and let you know that I have to put the story on hiatus until further notice. *Crosses fingers* that it doesn't come to that but I wanted to give you guys the heads up in case I suddenly "disappear" again. But here is the next part as promised. Forgive me if you come across any grammatical errors. I edited the best I could.
Disclaimer: Just to add - my next title has been borrowed/inspired by Steven Spielberg's movie,
Close Encounters of the Third Kind. No infringement is intended.
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Chapter Four: Close Encounters of the Bad Kind
Kettle Falls, Washington
The sound of fast approaching steps made it's way over an expanse of cobblestone pavement - a walkway that was built narrowly in size, as three strangers approached the small path leading to a set of stairs that were attached to the large log cabin looming in front of them. The dwelling was located in a secluded area within a buried part of the forest and it sat on the outskirts of a nearby reservation that was home to the Colville Indian tribe.
The hovering trees found in every direction offered the anonymity that the current occupants desired and continuously craved. And up above, misty puffs of clouds were visible on the horizon as they tumbled around in circular patterns over the darkening skies. Thunder suddenly roared to life across the expanse of gray sky as pelts of rain began hitting the ground.
An attractive raven-haired woman of about average height, possessing a beauty on a scale that was completely capable of rivaling others by any human standards, moved with a comfortable ease up those steps where she was eventually greeted by another man standing guard at the entrance. Two taller men flanked both of her sides and all three newcomers stopped just before the door, the woman removing the black sunglasses from her face. They were formerly being used to shield her sensitive eyes against the bright rays of the sun, a sun that had already disappeared behind a sheet of pitch gray. Taking a quick glance back over the porch, she could make out others patrolling in and around the surrounding wooded areas that came into close proximity with the closed off perimeters of the cabin.
"Kierra," the man guarding the door greeted her with a slight bow. The greeting was a simple one, his tone was neutral - devoid of any real emotion.
Her full attention shot back to the guard - the raven colored hair standing out against the porcelain tone of skin. The other two men accompanying her remained stoic, their appearance stiff and unwavering - there was not a smile nor a frown to be found as their own set of sunglasses remained in place. All three visitors wore identical matching suits that bordered on a color scheme falling somewhere between a silver or gray. A small insignia was embroidered into the outfit and found just under the left shoulder, an insignia made from a pattern of connecting dots that created a "V" formation. The dot at the center, the apex, stood apart from the rest as it sparkled on its own. The rest of the foreign material carried with it an unearthly shine - almost a twinkling glow most noticeable under the glare brought on by the sunlight - an oddity that could very easily stir outside curiosity and bring unwanted attention upon themselves. Yet, their behavior appeared to indicate that they did not seem fazed by the prospect or to care very much if some did query about it.
"Shikusch," Kierra immediately acknowledged the guard's show of respect with a quick nod of her head. "Is he here?" she demanded to know in no uncertain terms. "It's urgent that we speak with him."
"I believe Damien will be able to assist you in that regard," the guard turned to open the door. Stepping to the side, he allowed them entrance and after Kierra and the two men entered through the screen door, he shut it and immediately returned to his post.
Kierra moved with confidence; however, she barely made it a total of a few steps when she was confronted by one of the residents who moved to block her path.
"He's busy, Kierra," the taller, aging gentleman intervened immediately - his hands shooting up in front of him. "You'll have to come back."
Kierra made no attempts to hide her irritation. "Gulsto," she moved to challenge him. "Move out of the way, it's urgent that he hold an audience with us. Make no mistakes about our arrangement here. If we have to do this alone, we will, understand that. Then the rest of you can continue to rot away on this god-forsaken planet for as long as you see fit. And that's only if you get lucky because we're able to stop Khi'var from destroying it first."
Both sets of stares were hard - determined and unwavering, as they were thrown across at each other. The tension in the air was thick.
"He's in the middle of something important right now," the man referred to as Gulsto gritted down against his teeth, his voice also rising a notch in the process. "So, like I said, it will have to wait! Understand
that?!" he mocked. "And how many times do I have to correct you," he interjected heatedly. "It's Damien here. Damien, not Gulsto."
The flames coming from the fire flickered to life with an abrupt intensity as a crackling sound escaped from the fireplace located not too far off in the distance.
"Let's get something straight here," Kierra's threatening tone met his mockery head on. "We don't happen to like this anymore than you do, Damien - Gulsto, whatever. That part is completely irrelevant to me now. But it was your people who agreed to work with us and when we come here to report back to you with a message that something is urgent - then that means we expect your full cooperation. Or we don't work together at all, is that clear?! So," she paused, signs of a small hint of a satisfied smile hiding on her lips. "You can just go right on back there and deliver him that message for me," she nodded in the direction of the small office used by the Rebel Skin leader.
"It's because of your people that we ever had to come here at all!" Gulsto/Damien practically roared, his tone of voice saturated with a bitter taste of disgust, as the confrontation continued to heat up. "You, Symparians, are all the same!" he accused. "It's the reason why Khi'var was able to secure such a strong following from our people like he did! He may be a perverse tyrant of the worst kind and those of us here may have broken free from his deceptive reign but that doesn't mean he was wrong about everything."
"Hm. Do you really find it necessary for us to stand here and engage in a verbal combat over the finer points relating to Antarian political history or are you going to stay bound to your promise which is to help us recover our King alive?" she retorted.
"
Our King?!" he repeated incredulously. Suddenly, Gulsto narrowed his eyes in at her in an accusatory manner. "Are you sure that's all he is, Kierra?!"
Outwardly, Kierra didn't even show any visible signs of flinching at the not so subtle insinuation. Internally was a different story; however, she didn't let that deter her from delivering her next witty rebuttal. "Yes, our King. The same King that now lies in the clutches of an Antarian lunatic guilty of treason on the highest level. An Antarian, I might add, that all of you chose to follow at an earlier point in time. Just consider yourselves lucky that the alliance of the governing five planets took some pity on you and showed some mercy so that now your people aren't going to be facing charges of treason alongside him."
"He's your King, not ours. There's no place for us under Symparian rule."
"Then if you still feel this sense of hostility - why bother in assisting with our efforts at all?" Kierra challenged back.
"Because it was at Rath's bequest, that's the only reason why!" he spat back, some heavy labored breathing following his declaration. "Please let there be no misunderstandings in where our loyalties lie!" his eyes shone with an intense ferocity.
More silence blanketed the surrounding atmosphere as an intense staring match ensued between Kierra and Gulsto until finally an integral blow was hit against the Rebel Skins. Kierra was the one to break the long stretch of silence.
"I see," she arched her brows, a smirk set in place. "Well, please allow me to stress for you, Gulsto, to make no mistake whatsoever in understanding that our loyalties will always lie with our King. And never with the likes of some, how is it best to phrase this in human terms?!" she asked rhetorically, pausing, and thinking about how she would best deliver the point. "Ah, yes. Never will our kind accept the likes of some traitorous, Lymparian, whore," she emphasized, " who will never be worthy in the eyes of any Symparians to carry any Antarian title of royalty - let alone Queen. Regardless of how misguided she may have been at the time."
Smirks broke across the faces of the other two Symparians standing beside Kierra.
Gulsto tensed. "And just who would be suited for that title, Kierra? You?!" he made a threatening move towards her.
The two men accompanying Keirra immediately reverted into a combative stance - both raising their hands and preparing to blast if necessary. A few scattered Lymparians - rebel skins, who were lingering around in the background of the cabin, overhearing bits and pieces of the heated exchange, were placed on alert when they witnessed the confrontation about to take place and immediately jumped in to assist Gulsto.
"No, wait!" Kierra threw up her arms to halt her men beside her.
The scene of the confrontation was met by the presence of another newcomer. "What the hell is going on in here?!" the loud voice interrupted the exchange taking place in the living room section of the cabin.
Gulsto and the other Lymparians froze as did Kierra and her men.
"Any god damn louder and I'd never even know there was a thunderstorm taking place outside of my office window right now," came the retort from the voice of the new Lymparian who Gulsto now clearly identified as the Rebel Skin leader.
The attention of everyone shot to the bald man who was now approaching the scene from behind Gulsto. Kierra and her men had a clear view of the leader as his long, flowing robe of navy blue clung to his body and swayed as he walked. He pulled the cigar from out of his mouth while passing by some of his people who were still standing in their combative position. They were the same Lymparians who reacted - coming to Gulsto's aide.
"Stand down!" the Rebel leader barked as he stopped beside them. "Get your asses back to work!" he pointed back over his shoulder.
"Yes, sir!" they all bowed, immediately following the orders of the Rebel leader.
The Rebel Skin leader came closer, stopping just beside Gulsto. "What seems to be the problem here?" he inquired; however, sounding very much as if he really didn't want the answer to that question.
"Daktori," Kierra greeted him by his official name.
A dark shadow momentarily crossed over the Rebel leader's face. "Kierra," he simply acknowledged her right back.
"Sir?!" Gulsto nodded, acknowledging the leader's presence - sounding apologetic for the disruption caused to him. "My apologies for the rude and unnecessary interruption. I was trying to explain that you were busy."
"It's fine, Damien," the Rebel leader brushed it off, addressing Gulsto by the chosen identity he had acquired for himself on Earth. "Take five," he instructed, giving the other Lymparian the opportunity to break from his duties and calm down.
"But, sir?!" Gulsto began to protest, glancing in Kierra's direction. He was always present as the Rebel leader's second whenever he conversed with the Loyalists, the Symparian followers and the minority Lymparian ones of King Zan and his rule.
"I said to take five!" the leader cut him off in a stern manner, shoving his free hand into the side pocket found on his robe.
"Yes, sir," he relented. Slowly, Gulsto reluctantly moved to exit the room. He threw Kierra and her men one last scornful look.
The Rebel Skin leader turned to address the Symparians next. He nodded, indicating for her to follow him as he turned back around in the direction of his office. "So, Kierra?! To what do I owe this honor," he plastered on a smile for the sake of proper protocol, as he shot a quick glance back over his shoulder in her direction. "Shouldn't you and the rest of these yokels," his head nod indicating the others with her, "be up in the mountains digging out your spaceship and preparing for the great escape?! You know, just in the slim chance that we don't make it in time and Khi'var blows us all to kingdom come!"
"Very amusing, Daktori," Kierra sneered in response. "But I have always been under the assumption that you've always been on top of things while down here. Don't tell me you're slipping up now. Do you know something we don't?" she used her ridicule to counter back against his mock sense of humor.
"Oh, for christ's sake, Kierra," the Rebel leader scolded as playfully as possible, even though he was clearly irritated. He hated the use of his Antarian name and he knew she knew it. "You know damn well it's Cal now," he swung the door to his office open allowing Kierra entry before himself. "Don't go out of your way to mock me; you'll find out pretty damn fast that I'm not in the best of moods today. So just cut the crap and get to the point of this entire visit!" His irritation then shot to the other two gentleman accompanying Kierra. "Sorry fellas," he mocked them, "the ride stops here."
Cal shut the door before they had a chance to enter the room. The other two Symparians were not allowed to accompany them inside.
"Well," Kierra sighed, rolling her eyes in the process, "at least the social etiquette is a step up from the last time," she snidely remarked in regards to Cal's brusque response to her comrades, who also happened to be stepping in and serving as her guards for the time being. It was the proper protocol when Kierra was left behind in charge. "We've made it all the way from power blasting against walls to slamming doors in faces."
"It's still early," he narrowed his eyes in her direction. "Don't push me."
The smoke from Cal's cigar permeated through the air and met with Kierra's face as he moved to walk past her. Using her hand to wave the intrusive odor away from her flaring nostrils - Kierra started breaking into coughing spasms.
"Cal, that's a habit that really needs to kick the bucket," she criticized. "Some of these horrible earthly customs are best left in the hands of those humans who aren't fazed by suffering a slow and steady death because of them."
The spacious office offered a clear view of an old-fashioned, mahogany-style desk located just in front of an average sized window. A number of shelves filled with collections of books lined the perimeters of the walls found on all sides of the room. Suddenly, a burst of thunder sounded from outside and then a flash of chain lightening struck somewhere close by to the cabin, causing the lights within the room to flicker. Kierra's focus shot to the small child kneeling in front of a small table in front of a sofa and her confident smirk was soon replaced with a look of distaste.
"I take it you haven't heard back from either Rath or Vilandra yet?" Cal referenced both Michael and Isabel by their Antarian identities. He shoved the cigar back into his mouth while heading back for the desk.
Kierra watched as the Rebel Skin leader sat down and then she moved to take the chair positioned in front of his desk. "No," she finally answered with a weary sigh. "They'll get in touch with us if they need to. Besides, it's not like they went out alone. But, then again, they're not the reason I'm here," she went on to clarify for him, pushing herself to the point.
Cal's head shot up. He pulled the cigar back out. "Oh?! If it's about our supply - we're not due for another one in about two weeks?!"
"It's not about the Livarium!" she refuted just as quickly as Cal had suggested it. "Your labs are still safe and secure on the premise - the order should be shipped out as scheduled. Khi'var and his followers may have infiltrated the zone but our sources still confirm that the identity of your people has not been compromised as of yet."
"Then what the hell is this all about?"
Kierra's gaze intentionally made it's way back to the child and Cal Langley followed it.
"Don't go there!" he instructed in a tone full of warning.
"She's been found by our people wandering off the designated grounds, Cal! Again!" Kierra's eyes bulged for effect, mainly to stress the seriousness of the point she intended to get across. "This isn't the first time she's left a trail for the others to find and our secret intel is also reporting that Nikolas has been able to track us here."
"Here?" he pushed for more details.
"Yes, here. In Washington."
"Kierra, she was found playing around in the goddamn woods!" Cal shouted back in defense of the child that had become his responsibility for a good part of her life. A responsibility he completely took to heart. Amazingly, his careful watch over her turned out to be last thing he truly had to live for - a last connection to something he had lost forever. "She's been doing it for as long as she could walk and it hardly qualifies as leaving a trail for that little shit Nikky to track."
"No, her energy field just happened to be found in the same exact area where there was an active investigation taking place by the humans. Bothered to check out the 5 o'clock news lately, Cal?!" Kierra mocked him. "The human woman and child who were both killed during a freak lightening strike? She was there. We sensed the energy field left behind - she's been using her powers on the outside of this premise. It hardly constitutes some normal or innocent wandering around being done inside of the woods. And trust me, Mikkos is hardly little anymore. All he needs is one hit on our location and we're done."
"He'll always be a little pack rat to me," Cal retorted in distaste. "I could give a flying shit what that little bastard looks like now. And end of discussion about her," he finalized, making no room for any further argument when it came to the child. "She's my problem to worry about, anyway. Look, if Nikolas tracked us here - he did it some other way," he refuted her logic. "They don't even know about her and even if by some slim possibility they had tracked her back to us - Nikolas and his men would already have been on us like bees to a hive by now. I highly suggest you get on the band wagon and find out how we've suddenly slipped up. Just be prepared and put everyone on immediate alert - they know the drill in case of an emergency."
"Maybe. But that's not the point. Nikolas may not know anything about her yet but how do we know whether or not she made contact with the humans in the woods that day? If she did, we got lucky - they're not around anymore if they did happen to see her doing anything. But what if next time - it's one of our enemies? She can lead them straight to us if she's not careful and that possibility is dangerous enough. And, worse, what if they sense who she is?!"
"They won't! I already said:
they don't even know about her!" Cal challenged. "I'll keep closer tabs on her just to play it safe!"
"She's a liability, Cal! The Council of Alliance may have a thing or two to say about this situation."
He slammed his fist onto the desk. "Now, look, you hold it right there!"
The little girl finally shot her head up to see what had aggravated her papis so much to cause him to react in such a manner. Dropping her crayon to the table - she watched intently; however, said nothing. There were only a few exceptions in which she willingly engaged in any type of verbal conversation and that was with those she felt most comfortable with. From a young age, she had learned to rely on her Antarian senses - mainly, telepathic forms of communication. Her papis and the others around her had stressed how important it would be for her to be able to tap into that very important part of herself. There were no secrets between them, he had confided in her that one day he might have no choice but to leave her. He tried to make her understand that he would never let it happen willingly if it was in his power to stop; however, he wanted her to be prepared nonetheless. The child was taught she would need her "special" senses, those abilities, to protect herself from other people out there like her because there were others like them who wouldn't be nice in the same way that papis had been to her. However, now, from what she could make of the conversation - it sounded like these same abilities were the cause of the tense energy filtering everywhere around her. The woman, Kierra, a stranger who had appeared recently, the same one visiting now - she didn't like the little girl very much and the child could sense that the woman was put off with her for some reason.
"It's the truth!" Kierra's temper flared to life. "You're just too close to the situation to see it for what it really is. It's a big mistake, Cal - I know it and deep down you know it too."
The child's eyes shot back and forth between the two of them.
"I don't give a rat's ass about what you think you know. Your truth is irrelevant to me, Kierra!" Cal retorted. "Besides, you're overstepping your boundaries here. It's not your place to be challenging me on this issue. I don't answer to Antar or to it's alliance."
"It most certainly is my place when the two remaining members of the Royal Four are away and engaged in other important matters," Kierra countered him back, standing up from her seated position in the chair. "That puts me in charge until they're back."
"In charge over the Loyalists," Cal stressed, countering her in a testy fashion. "That means over your people, Kierra, not over me or mine. Don't forget that."
"You were one of us, Cal!" she reminded him. "When you were first sent here, you fully supported our cause and restoring the proper balance back to our world. The Guardians even chose you for the mission to earth. What changed?"
"I'm not against restoring the balance to Antar!" Cal refuted. "I'm just sick of the pissing contest between your people and mine. In the end, we both became the very thing we claimed to despise regardless of which side was at fault first or not. Which is why I intend to live out the rest of my pitiful existence right here on a planet about just as half pathetic as ours - only minus the threat of global warming. That, my dear friend, may be the only thing to beat Khi'var to the punch line," he cracked, a laugh escaping his throat. "He wants to destroy the earth - he may just have to take a number behind the human race. But, hey, what the hell, right?!" he sneered, puffing on the cigar. "I'll get to go in peace - knowing that my people were at least not responsible for one bad thing in the universe."
"If you don't stand by our Guardians of light and the prophecies they have bestowed upon us and our world," Kierra negated, "then no, Cal, you do not stand for restoring the balance back to our people."
"Uh- huh. And which prophecy would that be, Kierra?" he snidely interjected, taking his time to needle her some more, while enjoying the very uncomfortable reaction he was receiving from her at the same time. "Yours or ours?" He took another puff from his cigar - allowing the fumes to infiltrate the space between them.
Her death glare shot straight to him. Using her hand, she waved the abominable stench away from the proximity of her face for a second time.
"What?!" he smirked, making a show of it by throwing his hands right up in front of him - palms facing the ceiling.
"You know those prophecies are one in the same," her clever maneuver around the answer prevailed.
"The prophecy won't ever be honored. There's no Lymparian Queen to fulfill it."
"You still haven't answered my question," Kierra maneuvered around Cal's comeback. "There are still other Lymparians who stand with the Symparians and support the Loyalist cause. So what changed for you?" she interrogated.
"Things just change! Period." Cal's vague reply followed, a response completely void of emotion.
"Because of her?!" the accusation was clear - Kierra's eyes narrowing as she awaited the confirmation on what she believed to be the truth.
"No!" he yelled. Cal's anger was getting the better of him with each passing second. He did not like the path this was headed down and he knew she was doing it to rattle him. He wouldn't let her get to him like this, damn it! "She has nothing to do with any of this. She's gone now - all of that is behind us so it doesn't matter."
Kierra's brows arched in surprise. "She's gone?! Are you sure about that?"
"I said she's gone!" Cal's heated response escaped through clenched teeth. "At least, in all the ways that matter," he settled on, more for himself than for Kierra, while trying to regain his composure. "One thing has absolutely nothing to do with the other."
"I don't believe you."
"And I don't care!" he countered back. "She's completely irrelevant to what's going on right now. So don't contradict me again - this will be the last time she gets brought up in conversation between you and I, do you understand me?!"
"Hm," Kierra feigned contemplation. "See, the problem I have, is that I'm not so sure the King necessary sees it the way you do," she needled him some more.
"The
King," Cal spat the term out of his mouth as if it had burnt his tongue "has much more pressing matters to be concerned with at this very moment, wouldn't you agree?! Like, saving his own ass and finding a way to escape Khi'var's clutches?!" This encounter had become increasingly counter-productive and wasn't getting either side anywhere.
"That's what we're here for!" Kierra took offense.
"Yes - and we agreed to help you out with this because stopping Khi'var benefits us just like it benefits you," Cal pointed out. "Our people are in his ranks right along with yours. So why don't we keep the focus where it belongs?!"
"Raising the hybrid child is not going to make up for her!" Kierra spat back, refusing to relent on a topic that was a sore subject for the Rebel leader sitting across from her. An obvious show of resentment had slipped through her tone of voice as she watched the dark look cross over his face for a second time. "I just hope you get that."
Trying to pull his temper back into check for the little girl's sake, Cal finally addressed her. "Kylie," he stood up from his chair, calling for the child by name. His voice sounded firm and full of authority. "Listen, Papis needs for you to leave the room right now. Go out and find Damien, please. Ask him to play one of your games with you," he instructed.
Without uttering a word of consent or protest, Kylie did exactly as Cal instructed. Standing to her feet, she swiftly collected all of her belongings from off of the table and while holding them tightly to her chest, she glanced over at the woman. Her long, sandy, brown hair fell in thick, silky strands down her backside - the golden blond highlights standing out even under the dimness that the stormy weather cast upon the room. The even length of her bangs parted to one side against her forehead and strands of them flew in wisps as a small breath of warm air escaped Kylie's mouth when she sighed. With her arms still folded across her chest, she walked in the direction of Cal, cradling her belongings within her tight grasp. Kylie's solemn expression never left her face as her stare met and locked with Kierra's. Cal was now guiding her in the impending departure, his hand placed gently against her backside; however, she never broke eye contact with Kierra until she was finally out the door.
"Your daughter was a traitor on Antar, Daktori," Kierra continued to jab the needle into Cal's heart just a little deeper each time. "Even if she was misguided into thinking that what she was doing was justified. Nothing will ever change that fact!"
Goddamn her! Couldn't she just leave well enough alone?
His anger boiled - a purely human emotion he had acquired during the many years spent among a planet filled with an emotionally designed race of people. Why the hell did Kierra insist on dredging up a past that was no longer relevant to him or to this period of time? They were on Earth for crying out loud, trying to avert a world wide catastrophe - not back on Antar feuding over which Antarians carried with them the noblest of intentions in their political views when it came to the welfare of their now beyond screwed planet. He knew the answer to his own question - the topic of his daughter was still a sore spot and Kierra knew that so she was holding no bars back about taking complete advantage of it.
"Back off!" he seethed. "You're not fooling me one goddamn bit, Kierra, because I'm pretty sure I know what's really going on here," his accusation hit her square. "And you know what? I don't even give a damn anymore. But, look, whatever the hell your agenda is or whatever the arrangement is with him, you just make damn sure to keep Kylie the fuck out of it all. She's not your concern, she never will be - she's mine, got it?! Otherwise, you answer to me!"
Kierra's gaze reflected something akin to guilt and she had shifted it to the floor. There was no response given back to his bold declaration. No denials - not even an attempt to hide what Cal considered to be the real underlying issue at hand.
"Uh-huh, right. That's what I thought," Cal accepted her lack of response as an indicator that what he had just inferred was the truth. "This meeting's over."
Cal reopened the door, slamming it upon his exit.
Swallowing over the growing lump forming inside her throat, Kierra slowly arose from her chair. With her arms folded, she walked over to the window and stopped. Staring out into the blurry wilderness, a scenery caused by the vicious down pour taking place outside, she could make out images of trees swaying back and forth in the distance. The gray shadows dancing across the sky matched how Kierra was feeling on the inside; however, she didn't want to give into the rising feeling from within her. She couldn't give into - she accepted that, more important things were at stake, like saving the King from meeting another gruesome end at the hands of Khi'var - an end similar to the first time around.
-X-
It was another hot day under the Nevada sun and the intense heat hit against the sand particles scattered everywhere within the vicinity of the small playground. Liz had opted to take a walk, just to clear her head, in light of all the major frustration coarsing through her.
She still hadn't recovered her missing journal.
Liz now found herself seated on a bench overlooking the east side of the park located on the base. For the third time, she tried to get in touch with Maria from her cell phone. Not even bothering to locate the dial connection from her contact list, Liz's finger pressed down on each of the numbers in a rough manner - a number put to memory like the numbers found inside her own birth-date. Bringing the phone back against her ear, the familiar ringing sound began all over again. She waited and waited but still no answer.
The sounds of giggling and chatter came from a set of swings a few feet away that were being occupied by a couple of school-aged little girls. Glancing over briefly, a small smile made it's way across Liz's lips - completely of its own volition. Liz couldn't help it, she found it somewhat amusing to even have children in a place such as this; however, it also served as another sad reminder as to what it was she was lacking in her own life: a family of her own. With both her mother and her father now gone, and an ailing Aunt barely holding onto what was left of her own sanity, Liz had begun to feel out of place in the world. Sure, she still had Maria and Liz had complete confidence that Maria would always be there if she needed her; however, a part of Maria had moved on as well - and rightfully so. She was entitled to her own life, her own career, her own family and her own happiness. Not to mention, Maria had her own personal battles to overcome and Liz reluctantly pushed herself to accept the clear realization that she couldn't continue leeching onto her friend like some wilting vine forever.
Voice mail picked up -
Hi, if you have my number then you already know who this is and, uh, have great taste in friends, by the way. Anyway, sorry, I'm not able to talk right now but if you've known me long enough then you definitely know the drill - just drop me a line and I'll get back to ya' eventually. I swear.
One of the children on the swing flashed Liz her best smile.
Liz smiled back, clicking the cell phone shut without leaving a voice mail. There was no need to burden Maria about her stupid misplaced journal. She was clearly over-reacting and she could already hear Maria's voice in her head - clear as day:
Liz, relax. Just retrace your steps - remember the time you thought somebody stole your purse out of your dorm room? You just forgot and left it in the school library.
Or so she thought. And so Maria thought. She didn't want to go back to those days when she was clearly living on the edge of paranoia - before Dr. Wallace had stepped in and upped the dosage of her prescribed medication. Liz had been so scared back then - terrified by the thought that if she admitted the truth to Dr. Wallace, which was that she carried this intense and most frightening feeling around with her that told her she was being watched and followed - that Dr. Wallace would immediately recommend having Liz committed for observation. She hadn't wanted to give up her hard earned Harvard education; however, she could never shake the disturbing sense that she was being played with, deliberately toyed around with - almost as if someone or something out there wanted her to be driven crazy during most of her days spent in Cambridge. Looking back, the purse incident was just one of many incidents that Liz remembered enduring; however, she eventually just forced herself to reason it away - placing the blame back on her own fragile state of mind. To Liz's relief, Dr. Wallace hadn't threatened to have her placed into a hospital - instead she counseled Liz that it was perfectly normal for someone who had gone through what she had to experience those types of extreme flashbacks.
But this is different, Liz told herself. I'll find the journal. I'll find it.
"Ahhhh!"
Startled by the screeching sound coming from a child, Liz was broken out from her daydreaming; however, when her eyes came to rest upon the sight of a child being playfully grabbed and then tousled over in the air by someone who appeared to be her father - Liz took immediate relief in the fact that they both were just engaging in some harmless fun. The child was laughing excitedly now and running for the slide, the dotting dad making a big pretense at trying to keep up. Nobody was in any kind of trouble, thank god. Clearly, recruitment onto this facility allowed for the relocation of intact families if that need should arise and on first glance, it was amazing to see how many parts of the base actually resembled a small town going about its daily business. In front of Liz, a narrow side-walk separated the bench from the asphalt foundation that began the journey into the playground.
Liz moved to get up and ...
"Look out!"
A little boy out of control on a pair of roller skates slammed straight into Liz knocking her off balance and sending her flying to the pavement - the little boy sprawled on top of her. The verbal warning had come too late.
"Jacob!" a stern voice flowed from somewhere up above - coming from somewhere in the background.
The little boy struggled to free himself from his entangled position - the heavy feel of his skates weighing down his feet where they were tied around Liz's legs.
"Get off me!" he shot at Liz.
Liz moved to get him off her.
"Hey, don't push me!" the little boy reprimanded.
The initial shock wore off and Liz shot an incredulous look at the boy above her. "Uh - listen, kid," the incredulous sentiment passed over into a slight laugh. "Or, Jacob, is it?" she suddenly questioned him with a slight edge of annoyance laced inside her tone of voice as she remembered that name mentioned from the background. "I think you've got this backwards. Why don't we try it the other way around. You try getting off me first - and then I'll do my best to get off the ground."
"I don't have to do what you tell me to do," he shot back in a bold and defiant manner. "You're not my mother!"
Wow, what a little brat! Maybe I should rethink the whole ... it sucks to be single and alone prospect?!
The thought came and went. "Uh-huh," Liz nodded ever so slightly from the position flat on her back. "Thank god," she retorted matter-of-factly.
Visible hands were suddenly hoisting the boy up off of her before he could respond again. However, it was in this one fleeting moment with his face hovering so close to hers that she caught something she never expected to in a million years. The irritation she felt suddenly evaporated and the beats of her heart picked up in a rapid pattern as deep brown eyes, the matching color of dark chocolate, met with familiar amber-colored ones. The brown hair cropped on top of his small head combined with the contemplative expression covering his face mentally catapulted Liz back to a time and place where only one other person in the world had ever looked at her so intensely. In a flash, the little boy was off her and hands were now moving to assist her off the ground. She found that she was shaking, involuntarily, and the realization had hit so fast that it was altogether possible that she had imagined the whole encounter; however, shortly after straightening her clothes out and regaining what was left of her composure, she stared back over at the little boy and discovered that ...
She had been imagining it.
What the hell?!
The little boy standing across from her now looked nothing like what she had thought she had seen just a split second ago. His bright blue eyes, along with the crop of curling, blond hair that rivaled the brightness of the sun - stood out in contrast to the much darker features she had envisioned when he had been a mere inch or so from her face.
Was she going crazy?
"Jacob, apologize to the woman," the stern voice brought Liz's rambling thoughts to a stand still. Liz's attention shot to the woman hovering beside the child. She was looking down at Jacob, her expression stoic and unreadable; however, her eyes told a story all of their own. "Now."
Jacob crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive manner.
Liz looked between the two. "No, it's okay, really," she shook her head, trying to offer the little boy a reprieve - even if he had been acting obnoxiously rude a moment ago.
The reprieve went completely ignored.
"Jacob!" the warning came again. "I'm not going to ask you again."
It was as if the woman hadn't even acknowledged Liz saying anything at all. She finally gave into her urge to scrutinize the woman - really taking a good hard look at the other woman for the first time since she had helped her off the ground. The woman appeared to be in her mid to late fifties with very graying hair - hair that was pulled up in a neatly tailored chignon-style representation; therefore, she would be shocked to find out if this was indeed Jacob's mother. A young grandmother perhaps? Something about the woman felt really off though, odd, and it managed to give Liz the chills, the tingling sensation traveling up her arms and legs - never mind the impression she might be leaving on a little boy around the age of eight or nine. At least, that's the age Liz would assume if she were asked to take an educated guess. There was something very cold and foreign about the older woman's presence.
Strangely familiar?
"Really, it's okay," Liz tried once again. "This wouldn't be the first time I've met with the ground - in fact, I actually think I'm acquiring a knack for being in the wrong places at exactly the wrong time in this place," she attempted to throw a little humor into the mix, remembering her very first encounter with Matthew not that long ago.
"Sorry," Jacob finally relented; however, the apology came out stiff and his eyes told a completely different story. "You were just standing there. I should have been the one to watch where I was going." He sounded a bit resentful. He didn't sound like he was really sorry - he just sounded sorry that he had to apologize.
"Sure," a faint smile appeared; however, Liz shifted uncomfortably. "Apology accepted," she gave in, just hoping that the weird moment would just pass with the two strangers walking away and going about their business. But no such luck.
"Good." The corners of the older woman's mouth lifted into what Liz could only describe as a Cheshire-like grin, completely charming on the surface but deceptively cunning underneath it all. Her beady eyes suddenly turned in on Liz. "Now, how do we introduce ourselves appropriately?" she inquired of the child.
With a heavy sigh - Jacob took a few
slides forward on his blades, extending his hand out to Liz. "Hello." The greeting almost sounded rehearsed, Liz noted. "My name is Prince Jacob Qzezuelyon^ret the 1st and it is an honor to meet your acquaintance."
Prince Jacob Qzez ... the what?
He sounded just like a miniature adult. And yup, definitely rehearsed.
Liz's eyes widened a bit as she tried to digest the peculiar introduction; however, she extended her own hand and accepted the handshake anyway - not wanting to offend either one of them. The older woman, who must have immediately picked up on Liz's hesitant demeanor, was prepared to jump in with a myriad of explanations the moment all the introductions were completed.
"And my name is Regina," the woman offered her hand next.
"Liz," she reciprocated the introduction with a head nod. Another uneasy smile graced her lips as the two shook hands.
"I'm Jacob's conduit," the woman revealed, "or a more commonly used term of reference that you may be more familiar with is either a "nanny" or a "governess." The name, well, an old title that the family keeps as a name sake. Nothing more," she quickly provided an explanation on the little boy's behalf.
Smooth, Liz thought. But there's still something about her that just rubs me the wrong way.
"Right," Liz nodded her head, trying to sound as cheerful as she could muster. "Wow, that's really interesting. Well, it was nice to meet you both and, uh," her eyes averted to Jacob once again as she continued, "sorry, for bumping into you like that, Jacob," her voice softened for his benefit. His unfriendly stare was as unwelcoming as ever but Liz decided not to let it faze her. "I do need to be going," her eyes met back up with Nanny Regina's.
There was no verbal reciprocation - just two blank expressions and two pairs of eyes boring into her.
Why do I suddenly feel like I'm the one being dissected here?
Bending down quickly, Liz looked to retrieve her cell phone from the ground where she had fallen; however, found she was unsuccessful in locating it. Her eyes darted all around the sidewalk, up to the bench, and then back to the ground again.
"Looking for this?"
Glancing up, Liz found the governess extending her hand with the phone in it.
"Uh, yeah, thanks," Liz took it back. However, what she failed to catch was the slight shimmer that flashed around the phone as the exchange took place.
The governess flashed Liz a small grin - Liz thought it resembled something between a smile and a mocking sneer. Shoving her phone in her back pocket, Liz proceeded to take a few steps backward. She issued one final, quick wave in an awkward manner before she was soon sprinting off - her legs carrying her as fast as they could away from the strange encounter she sought to escape.
Jacob stared after Liz and as soon as she was out of sight, he sank to the ground and started to unloop the laces in his skates. Stupid things, why did he even try them on in the first place? He hated them. Now he was just desperate to get them off and walk the rest of the way in nothing but his bare socks if he had to. Reaching into the purse strapped over her right shoulder, the governess turned her back to Jacob and produced a foreign device. With it grasped firmly in her hand, she swiftly moved her thumb across the surface igniting a light blue shimmer.
"It's me." She brought the device closer to her mouth as she spoke into it. "I've just had an unexpected run in with the Parker woman," she relayed to someone from her end. "I've also picked up a little something extra that might prove to be useful."
Communication ceased and the pupils in her eyes expanded until all the white making up the irises had vanished and both eyes were two deep pits of black.
-X-
Michael stormed out of Maria's building and onto the sidewalk - walking the couple blocks it would take him to make it back to the car. Glancing around, the high-rises that towered everywhere around and above him in the highly populated city made him feel like a rat lost inside of a gigantic maze. But that was a good thing - it offered him what little anonymity there was, allowing him to come and go freely with little fear of being recognized. On the minus side, it was alot more difficult for him, as Second-in-Command, to pick out his enemies in such a large crowd and even harder to identify whether they had been followed.
Damn Maria - she was still as stubborn as ever. He was doing her a favor coming all the way out here like this!
He reached the black Mercedes with the tinted windows parked between a wide alleyway and in an highly agitated manner, yanked the back door open. It was his second attempt to try and talk some sense into Maria and she refused to even see him this time around. He thought letting her sleep on it for one night would help knock some sense into her. Shoving himself roughly inside, he slammed the door shut and was greeted by one of the last people he was in the mood to deal with right now. A tall slender woman of about 5''11 sat with her legs crossed - the sleek black glasses matching the exterior of the car, completely shielding her eyes. Her flowing waves of blond hair fell in silky strands behind her back and over the fronts of her shoulders.
"So?" her wide grin was merely all for show. "I take it your witting charm and star-like personality didn't win her over, eh?"
Her mockery only fueled Michael some more.
"Dru, shut the hell up, okay?" he threw back at her. "Or you can get out and hike it the rest of the way back to JFK."
The driver snorted, peering through the rear-view mirror - she engaged in a shared look of amusement with Dru.
"I'm serious."
The driver started the ignition. "Oh, I don't doubt that, boss," she teased, pulling the car out of the secluded alleyway and onto the street. "But, you got to admit - Dru kind of has a point," she jabbed him a little more.
"Which would be what, exactly?" Michael retorted in a testy fashion. "That some witting charm and a star-like personality can get the both of you back to that damn airport faster than riding in this rented get-up will. Be my guest - if you want to prove me right."
"No," she laughed back, "that you kind of been a drag this entire trip."
"Yeah, well it's not suppose to be a vacation."
"I think Clara means that coming back to see the human woman has had an effect on those appalling mood swings of yours as of late - especially since you decided you'd be the one coming out here to retrieve her," Dru spelt it out for him. "And not in a good way either."
"Yeah, well, Maria just has that effect on everybody, okay?" he cracked back. "Hey, she doesn't want my help, that's not my problem," he brushed it off, trying to sound nonchalant about it - while glancing out the window. "It's not like I care anyway."
"Okay. Now say it like you mean it," Clara smirked.
Michael glared and Clara made a pretense at clearing her throat in an obvious manner. "So? Is it really back to the airport? Or back to another long and drawn out night at the hotel? We can always try to come up with a plan B," she suggested out of the blue.
"Which would be what?" Dru pushed her glasses down slightly over the bridge of her nose, peering back at Clara over them. "Operation:
Wait around and then abduct the human woman in broad day-light? I don't think so. Besides, it's not like we even have our spaceship at our disposal to make it more discreet for us," the playful pout set on her lips was being used solely to stress her point.
Clara rolled her eyes from the driver's seat.
"I saw that, Clara," Dru's sultry voice scolded in a teasing manner.
"Well, we can always go more traditional and wait until nightfall," Clara delivered her own playful retort straight back.
"Funny."
Michael's mind had drifted away from the annoying banter playing out around him some time ago and his focus immediately shot to the sudden figure waltzing out the swinging door of a very familiar building - just as their car was about to pass by. The adrenaline sped up at what he caught sight of.
"Hey, shut-up, the two of you!" he jumped forward in his seat. "Follow her!" he ordered, pointing, as Clara turned to look where Michael's attention had landed.
"Which one?" Clara's brows furrowed.
"Her, the one in the black overcoat, it's her - it's Maria," he delivered the news.
"The one with the frilly pink scarf wrapped around her neck like a noose?" Dru leaned over, her expression full of distaste. "Ew - she's like this loud walking, talking,
Hallmark, calling card all dressed up like that."
Michael pushed her back. "Dru - you're blocking my view, alright? Besides - what the hell would you even know about a good fashion sense anyway? Last time I checked, Antar was running a little low on department stores. Oh wait, that's right, that's because we don't have any," he mocked. "One color fits all."
Clara laughed. "See, Dru, I told you scanning through all those fashion magazines during all your free time wasn't going to do you any good. They've tainted your mind."
Dru snorted. "I was bored. And, hey, I've been down here long enough to at least know what passes as wearable," she cracked. "Even by human standards. And trust me, that ain't it." She rolled those hidden eyes of hers one time behind her sunglasses.
"I don't think "wearable" even passes for a word in the English language," Clara shook her head, really thinking about it.
Clara continued to trail Maria's sauntering form on the sidewalk - in and out of throngs of strangers that would suddenly grow larger and then disperse periodically. Finally, Michael took note that her determined strides were taking her in the direction of a set of stairs plunging underground; signs posted right around the area indicated that she had to be making her way for the subway cars. Impatiently, Michael grabbed for the door handle on his passenger side.
"Stop the car!" he ordered.
Clara pulled to the curb - horns impatiently beeping from behind them. "Rath, where are you going? You can't make a scene in front of a whole bunch of people."
He jumped out. "I'm not. I'm just going to follow - make sure everything's alright. Just meet me back at the hotel," he instructed.
"You shouldn't be going alone!" Clara stressed. "We're here to protect you, that's our job! Dru, go with him," she ordered.
"Forget it! The two of you will just slow me down - I can do this faster on my own and I need to go before I lose her!"
"Dru, come on," Clara ignored his protests, preparing to place the car in park and accompany both of them.
"I said no! That's an order! Besides, you can't leave the car here!" Without another word, Michael could be seen dashing in the direction of the stairs.
Clara halted her own movements. "Dru?! Go."
"But he said not to?!" Dru huffed back.
"Just go!"
Dru forced herself out of the car, slamming the door closed. "I knew there was a reason I voted for staying behind," she voiced out of earshot.
The car sped out of sight and Dru bolted after Michael.
x
Michael pushed his way through the crowds of hustling people who all appeared to be in just as much of a hurry to get to their own designated locations and destinations. However, fortunate enough for him, his presence down in these smelly, over-populated, underground tunnels would just feel like nothing more than a mere breeze passing through and around the various bystanders who were scurrying everywhere around him. Michael had faded out of sight almost immediately upon entering the underground maze, his sole purpose being to remain undetected just in case others were nearby, or if by some slim chance, Maria was able to pick up that she was being followed by him. He didn't want to blow his cover.
His heightened Antarian senses gave him access to stronger methods that enabled him to elude other humans or ways that could assist him in detecting when all hell was about to break loose. Here, on Earth, these skills were a luxury to have - on Antar, his abilities proved to be absolutely essential in the Royal Four's struggle to survive. Max, or rather King Zan as it was now known to all, could attest to those struggles for all of them. Khi'var and his forces had been clever enough to out-maneuver them back home. Manipulating the human dimensions that made up a part of their hybrid nature in this lifetime, Khi'var had used those elements cunningly. He viewed these foreign elements to be nothing more than innate flaws, weaknesses found within an inferior race of people that could now be used against the reincarnated Royal Four. And as strong as their dormant abilities were because of who they had been in their past lives, many of those strengths took a long time to manifest - in the end - leading to Max's capture. Shedding the human traits in favor of these Antarian characteristics became vital.
His thoughts jumbled together.
Had he lost her?
No. There she was - the pink scarf stuck out like a sore thumb but it was definitely Maria. He smirked, feeling bemused. Thank god for her quirky sense of style. Her black, velvety overcoat flapped at the hems near the bottom of her legs as she walked at quick, comfortable pace. To the average onlooker, she would appear like nothing more than a blurb in the distance; however, Michael could still make her out clearly. His vision was magnified while in this state. Michael continued to trail, robotically, as his thoughts shifted back to Max's final concern back on Antar. Just before he had been taken.
"Michael, listen to me, there's something not right here. You've known it and I've known it before the Council even agreed to meet with us. Think of everything we've uncovered so far about The Reformation?! Khi'var hasn't been doing this alone."
The words whirled around in his mind - repeating themselves over and over again like a theme from an old Metallica CD that just wouldn't get out of his head. The mere idea that somebody else, someone who could possibly hold more power and influence than Khi'var did as far as the Alliance Council was concerned - a council making up representatives from the five star planets found in their galaxy, was a terrifying reality even if it could be proven true. However, the Council refused to even acknowledge the possibility of any other authority behind the wide-spread rebellion that had swept across Antar, taking the lives of the former Royal Four in the process. The war had also managed to taint the remaining intact planets of the Alliance, bringing with it many far-reaching consequences even for them. Many just wanted justice - an end to the turbulence, and mainly someone to blame which meant that Khi'var and his followers do just fine. It no longer mattered if Khi'var emerged as nothing more than a figure-head. Now, Michael wished he had taken it more seriously. Perhaps, Max wouldn't have fallen prey to Khi'var and his goons and the fate of earth might have been a non-issue.
Maria made it to the subway platform. He was still close on her heels - he could hear the next train making it's way along the rails up through the tunnel.
Michael's thoughts jumped again. Because then there was the issue of Liz. What if it was already too late?
The side doors on the car slid open and Michael watched as a host of people, including Maria, hustled their way on board. In a discreet manner, Michael did the same through one of the doors further down the stretch. He was visible now, in plain sight - and instead, used the long rows of standing passengers to shield himself. Maria had made it to an available seat, she took it - not once glancing back in Michael's direction. He watched her intently for a few precious moments, he couldn't help it. She looked so much older then her twenty-eight years, not in physical appearance - she was still as beautiful as ever in his eyes; however, it was in the manner in which she carried herself. That young and energetic spark of life - the same one responsible for Maria taking all those risks back in the day, like in the decision she had made when she invited him into her life so long ago - along with that notable and sometimes irritating rebellious streak of independence seemed long gone. In it's place, sprung up a wall of cautiousness - with it a new found maturity born only out of life and it's experiences. For the first time he really saw how it was - she was still his Maria yet she wasn't.
Her head shifted and suddenly she was peering back in his direction. He shifted his gaze and turned his head the instant he saw her movement. Luckily, this time he managed to escape recognition. However, his relief was short-lived but not because he thought he had been suddenly identified by the girl he once knew so long ago, the same one who had now blossomed into a woman.
He wasn't on this ride alone.
They weren't alone.
That familiar feeling of heat scorching his back suddenly intensified, making it's way slowly from the core of his spine - all the way up to the nape of his neck. The sensation was unpleasant, but it was his internal warning system - one of his more acute Antarian senses kicking in to let him know that danger was close by. Too close. His own body heat soared - the feel was comparable to a thousand prickly hot fingers digging into his back and neck.
At what point did he screw up and let himself get tracked?!
Keeping his cool was essential - he knew that, her safety depended on it as well as his and he struggled against the energy field he was giving off - not wanting to alert the other Antarians, whoever they were right now, that he was aware of their presence and how close in proximity they actually were to each other. Michael's eyes carefully scanned the crowd closest to him, a look of suspicion masking his face. At the moment, the scariest realization to cross his mind. Had Khi'var's people, in fact, been following him - or had they already known to come here because they had been tracking Maria before he arrived in New York?
A couple of stops later - the train car began to clear out. Michael took a vacant seat, keeping vigilant for any suspicious signs that would move him to react. It was easier to make out Maria now with fewer passengers and seeing the discarded newspaper lying on the seat beside him, he grabbed for it - using it as a temporary shield to hide his face. However, the next stop finally signaled Maria's departure. She exited through the opened doors and Michael immediately moved to follow after her.
x
The bright mid-day sun was hitting down on the city just as Maria made her way through the gates that would take her into the schoolyard behind Beth's school. Beth attended AM morning Pre-K classes, her schedule limited to a half-day and the children had already dismissed at just about quarter past twelve.
She was running late.
There wasn't another soul left on the lot - no more children waiting around for their parents. Maria headed for the double doors leading inside of the school and after entering the small corridor, discovered it was deathly silent. It was a bit unusual, she thought, after all - school was still suppose to be in session for everyone other grade, including the afternoon Pre-K classes. She turned and walked into the vacant office.
"Hello?" she called out in vain. "Anybody in here?"
She walked back out. "Great," she mumbled to herself. Opting to try something else, Maria continued in the direction of the hallway that would take her the rest of the way to to her daughter's classroom. The PM afternoon students should definitely be in session by now. Knocking on the door, she was soon greeted by the teacher.
"Hi, can I help you?"
"Yeah, hi, I'm Maria Pentington - my daughter Beth is in your AM class."
"Oh, yes, that's right," the teacher acknowledged with a bright smile. "Was there something you needed?"
Maria eyed the other woman strangely. "Uh, yeah, I'm here to pick up my daughter," she confirmed. "I didn't mean to but I was running a little bit late."
"Didn't you already pick her up?" the teacher had a puzzled expression covering her face.
"No, I just got here," concern crept into Maria's tone. "Do you mean my husband?" Had Tyler left work today? Reaching for her coat pocket, she went in search of her cell phone but discovered she had left it behind at home. Damn her luck!
"No, I mean you. I thought I saw you pick her up in the parking lot outside."
"No! Are you telling me my daughter isn't here?" Maria began to panic.
The teacher, sensing this could quickly erupt into a serious situation, moved to ease Maria's fears so that neither of them started jumping to conclusions. "Listen, I could have been completely wrong. From where I was standing, maybe I saw one of the teacher's aides and she just brought her downstairs to wait until you got here. Most of the school is in the basement auditorium for a special guest speaker. You can try checking ... "
However, she never even got the chance to finish because Maria was dashing off in the direction of the doors that would lead her to the basement.
x
"Mommy, you're hurting me!"
The little girl, her blond curls bouncing against her shoulders, tried to keep pace beside the woman walking next to her - her
Dora themed backpack secured tightly over her shoulders. She twisted her wrist around inside of the tight grip coming from her mother - hoping to free herself just a little bit from the intense pressure. Instead, her reward was to be yanked harder - the tugging pulling her further along the long school corridor.
"Ow!" she pouted, dragging her feet.
Mommy wasn't acting like herself today. Suddenly, a sound was coming from close behind them and before the little girl even knew what was happening - a hand, presumably her mother's, came up over her mouth as she was hoisted up and carried into the restroom located close by. Her cries of protest were muffled and out of earshot.
x
Maria made it down the first flight of stairs in record time. The hallways were silent - there was no sign of any other presence except her own; however, an eerie feeling made her consider that maybe that wasn't true. Pushing it to the back of her mind, she remained steadfast in her strides to locate the school auditorium.
Just as Maria turned the corner, she could have sworn that she made out a slight scuffing noise. With a quick catch of the eye, she also caught the brief glimpse of a child entering through a bathroom door. Swaying blond curls or was it just imagined?!
"Beth?" the adrenaline picked up for Maria. Perhaps she needed to use the bathroom and the nice teacher's aide was accompanying her?
As she moved to take more forward steps - Maria was suddenly met with an unexpected hand smothering her mouth as she was lifted and swung back around the otherside of the wall so that they were out of sight.
"Shut-up," the voice hissed against her ear. "It's a trap."
Maria responded back with a deep bite - her assailant shouting out and releasing his hold on her. "Damn it," he cursed, while waving his hand and - hopefully, the pain away. She was shocked to discover who it actually was.
Michael.
"What the hell did you do that for?"
"Oh my god, did you like follow me here?" Maria cried out. She stepped forward and began swatting him on the chest with her fists.
"Hey, knock it off, I'm just here to help - so what the hell's your problem?"
"What's my problem?" she parotted incredulously. "I don't know, let's see, maybe because I specifically told you to leave me alone, that's my problem!"
"Well, I would have been more than happy to leave you alone if you weren't stupid enough to let yourself get tailed!" Michael retorted. "This school is crawling with all their energy, Maria. So how about showing a little more gratitude."
"Gratitude? You want gratitude? You find my daughter or else I'll show you some gratitude, you pompous ass," she threatened through clenched teeth. "Someone got to her before I got here and god help me, Michael, if she gets hurt because of your chaos you call a life."
"They're just using her to get to you. To lure you in. She's bait for the hook," Michael equated in his eloquent dialect.
"Well, get her off the hook. Now."
Michael peered around the corner. "What did you see?"
Maria came up behind him. "I thought I saw someone going into the bathroom."
"Stay here," he instructed.
"No way, forget it. You don't get to pop back up into my life after nine years and start barking orders at me Mr. Spaceman," she cracked. "I'm coming."
Michael rolled his eyes. "Then shut-up, will you, and stay behind me."
"Fine, let's just go."
Michael and Maria turned back around the corner; however, their silent moves were suddenly put to waste when a disruption sounded from inside the bathroom. Maria took off at full speed ahead, panicking for her daughter's sake if that really was Beth who had entered inside.
"Oh my god, Beth?! Beth!"
"Maria, stop!" Michael protested.
Michael caught up but the next thing they knew, a bathroom door was flying off it's hinges as a powerful blast sent it colliding with the white pastel wall located in the hallway just across from it.
"Duck!" Michael had shouted as he pushed himself and Maria down to the floor at the same exact time.
A fury of dust particles permeated everywhere around them - Maria coughing against those nasty toxic fumes. Looking up, both of them could make out the form of a woman and child exiting the destruction that now made up the bathroom. However, what shocked Maria next was who she saw staring back at her. It was HER! A clone of her, like an identical twin. Worst of all, she had Beth trapped in her arms as she turned her aim at them.
"Beth!" Maria screamed as she struggled to get to her feet.
"No, stay down!" Michael pulled on her.
At the same time the identical woman rose her arm to issue a blast, Michael intercepted hers with one of his own. The blasts clashed together - each one cancelling the other one out.
"Mommy! Help!" Beth screamed after she recognized her real mother still on the floor.
The stranger suddenly whisked both of them away, Beth still held firmly in her arms as both Michael and Maria moved to catch her. However, the last thing Michael expected to encounter was the person coming out from the school bathroom now in shambles - in the midst of a coughing frenzy very similar to one Maria had experienced just moments ago. She was waving her hand through the air around her at the same time.
"Dru?" Michael questioned. "What the hell are you doing here - I told you and Clara to get your asses back to the hotel and wait for me there."
"Sorry, boss, but it was either listening to you bite my head off or making sure you had backup when you needed it. And you needed it. I was trying to cut her off from this end - I was waiting in the bathroom for her to pass by. But now, she's heading for the back, Clara identified one of their cars. She's waiting for us there," Dru referenced their other comrade. She pulled out a peculiar looking communicator that Maria stared at. "I just talked to her - told her where to meet us. So, come on, there's no time left for chit chat."
All three of them ran in hot pursuit of the alien using Maria's form. It didn't take any of them very long to locate the auditorium and the one place they had tracked this alien and Beth to. It was big, crowded, but more importantly - there was a back door conveniently located in the far rear of the room. Michael, Maria, and Dru tried to be discreet - making their movements with tact and careful not to alert anyone to what was happening.
"There!" Dru pointed.
Knowing that she had been spotted, the Maria look-a-like bounced from one of the seats, a frantic Beth still in her arms as she raced for the exit.
"We can't let her get away!" Maria cried out.
The alien impersonater was out the door in a flash; however, what she hadn't anticipated was the person waiting on the other side. Clara, in all her glory, confronted her head on with a huge metal pipe she had liberated from the railing belonging to the school walk-way. Lifting it up, she swung hard and fast against the seal protecting the alien from exposure to the atmosphere. The alien quickly exploded into a heap of dust that went flying everywhere, sending little Beth to the ground. Dru was the first to exit the school and hit the scene.
"Nice!" she complimented.
Meanwhile, Maria dove for a weeping Beth who was still on the ground. She pulled her close, hugging her tightly as she rocked her from side to side. Soothing kisses were placed against her head, while words of reassurance were intended to calm her down as the little girl wept. This had been a close call - too close.
"You two okay?" Clara asked, looking between the distraught mother and child.
"No."
"Honest answer," Clara nodded. "Sorry about that. We would have tried to be here first if we had known they would target you here."
"And I still sense them around so I suggest we take this little pow-wow to the car and then we can finish bandaging up all the boo-boos there," Dru snidely remarked.
"We just want to go home," Maria volunteered, still feeling shaken up.
"I know. Come on," Michael gently guided her in the direction of the parked car.
-X-
The lab had cleared out and Liz was one of the last remaining workers left at her desk - working on an undisclosed project where most of the intricate details pertaining to the purpose behind the research and experimentation was being kept in the dark.
Matthew had been absent today and Liz had taken notice of that fact right away. In truth, she found that it surprisingly saddened her quite a bit. She had been looking forward to his company in light of the weird reception she was now feeling from Serena, stemming from the fact that she had just about subtly insinuated that it was possible her roommate could have been the one to lift her journal - just by asking the other woman if she had seen it. Maybe she was just being paranoid about it; however, combine that with the strange encounter earlier with that odd woman and kid along with Maria's unreturned calls - Liz was feeling a little out of the loop. Isolation was something she still had a hard time dealing with.
"You'll get the lights on the way out?" a voice met her ears from behind.
Liz looked up and around, offering just a touch of a smile after being pulled out from her self-loathing, pity party. "Sure," she answered the other young woman who was the last person about to leave for the day. "I got it, no problem."
"Great," the woman smiled back, her bright blue eyes glistening underneath the bright lights coming from off the ceiling. "See you tomorrow, Liz."
"Yeah, bye."
Her attention soon shot back to the task at hand - she still couldn't understand what this type of vaccination would be used for. It was a strange and peculiar-looking substance under the lens, unlike anything she had even studied during her classes at Harvard - a school that provided its students with some of the most well-renowned, if not the most well-renowned, opportunities present within the fields of microbiology and other scientific disciplines. The clear fluid being injected inside of the odd blue substance created a strange effect on the micro-organism. Liz watched in amazement as the mass would expand and rejuvenate - almost as if the organism itself was being brought back to the earliest stages of it's life cycle.
Suddenly, Liz jolted - moving back away from the lens after it hit her in the blink of an eye.
"Maria," her lips quirked upward until they erupted into a full-blown smile.
Liz felt the adrenaline race.
This serum, or whatever substance found in the vials being locked away in the glass cabinets found against the walls, could very well work as a viable and final remaining component to be added in conjunction with her own concoction to help cure Maria. Glancing over towards the cabinet shelves, all she had to do was get her hands on one. Was it worth the risk? Of course, when talking about Maria's life it most certainly was, if she got caught - hell, that Colonel Krammer could just chalk it up to his due recompense for his subtle promise on advances in medicine relating to Maria's condition. But she knew it was just wishful thinking - Colonel Krammer could just deny he ever hinted at any such thing. If she was going to try and do this, it would definitely be at her own risk. The question was how to get it out of this facility and back to the bunker without getting caught - after all, she was well aware of the high volume of security present in and around this place, a level of security that probably didn't compare to anywhere else in the world. Liz quickly amended she wouldn't even be surprised if every move she made in this lab, down to the last detail, was under constant vigilant scrutiny. Heck, she wouldn't even be shocked if they could count the number of breaths she inhaled during one minute. Backing away from the desk, she quickly inspected the exit and took purposeful steps towards the cabinets. She would make this appear simple and sweet to any observer - like she merely needed some more of the substance to test for her work.
The lights overhead suddenly flickered out.
Liz stopped in her tracks, paranoia creeping in for a split second. Glancing back over her shoulder, the door leading out of the lab showed no signs of life. Resuming her steps, she swiftly made her way to the cabinet. Liz went into her pocket and pulled out her identification card which would grant her the access she needed to the contents sealed on the shelves. After swiping down the slot with her key card, a hissing sound let loose - unlocking the glass door that instantaneously slid open. However, after moving to grab for a vial, the door behind her resounded with a loud bang - completely startling Liz and sending her hand flying into other vials. They crashed straight to the floor, smashing, and sending the crystal clear fluid pooling everywhere.
"Shit," Liz cursed, something she rarely did unless provoked. "Hello?" she called out nervously, looking back over at the door that was now closed.
First the lights and now the freaking door?! Coincidence?
"Is somebody out there?" she ventured again. "Because this really isn't funny." Now she was going to have to clean up.
Perhaps there was a draft coming from somewhere? One big draft!
Pushing fear to the background, Liz stepped around the mess on the floor - careful to avoid making contact with any shards of glass lying in different places. Reaching the door, she twisted the knob and discovered that she was locked inside.
"Hey, hello?!" she shouted, banging on the door. "Hello? Somebody out there?" There was a pause; however, no reponse back. "Somebody please open the door. I'm still inside and I can't get out," she pleaded.
Nothing but silence met Liz's ears.
Liz could detect the familiar stirrings of panic beginning to arise within her. She fought internally with herself - trying to talk herself down into believing that being locked inside of this dark and abandoned room was nothing more than chance - a coincidence. The power had to come back on eventually, some electrical shortage somewhere probably just triggered the door to lock on it's own. Turning around and letting her back rest against the door, Liz closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths - trying desperately to squash that sixth sense which was telling her that something was wrong.
This isn't like Cambridge! This isn't like Cambridge!
But all the memories of Cambridge came flooding back to her despite herself. And then it happened. She let go, giving into the fear and freaking out.
"Help!" Liz shouted, her voice trembling and fully alive with the panic that had invaded her entire being. She flung herself around and began beating on the door frantically. "Somebody help me, please!" she cried. "Open the door! I swear, I didn't mean to take it," her scrambled thoughts were all over the place. "I'm sorry!" her body shook, the hot tears escaping down the sides of her face. "I'll pay for it. Please, I'll do anything just let me out of here!"
Giving up, Liz allowed herself to drop down to the floor - balling up against the door, her back using it for support. The frantic sobs were muffled now but still detectable.
"Leave me alone," she began rocking herself back and forth. "Just leave me alone." She repeated it over and over.
The sound of ringing suddenly startled her and she let out a scream.
It was her cell phone.
Picking herself up off the floor, she practically darted back to her lab station and grabbed for it. Not even bothering to check the caller ID, she answered it. "Maria?"
"Liz?" The voice on the other end sounded concerned. "Is everything okay?"
"Oh, Dr. Wallace?" Liz was a little surprised to find her doctor on the other end of the line although she had been meaning to get back in touch with her. For a minute, she thought about covering her predicament up but then thought better of it.
"We were overdue to talk. I just thought I'd check in."
"Yeah, yeah, I know - I've been meaning to get back to you," she admitted, looking around the lab, still completely engrossed in a frantic state. "And actually, everything's not alright. I lost my journal the other day - I can't find it, I thought my roommate could have stolen it, I just can't seem to get along with anybody out here and now I'm in the middle of a full blown panic attack! I think I'm losing my mind again! What if this is just like before?" Liz listed off in one quick breath.
"Okay, Liz?" Dr. Wallace instructed in a soothing manner. "This is not like before!" she stressed with a touch of firmness. "We've talked about this many times, you and I. When you start to sense these feelings, these attacks coming on - clear your head, take some deep breaths and relax."
"I already tried that. It didn't work. I'm locked inside of a dark room. The power went out," Liz explained in a hurry. It wasn't nightfall yet; however, the shadows that she swore she could see creeping across the walls petrified her.
"You're fine. Now first, clear your thoughts and then engage in the breathing exercises we've gone over together during our earliest sessions."
Liz closed her eyes, doing her best to follow the instructions. "Mind clear."
"Good. Now focus and place all your energy into taking deep breaths and then releasing them back out slowly. You can do it, Liz."
"Got it, deep breaths," Liz repeated - taking her time with the breathing exercises.
"Are you taking the medicine as I prescribed it to you?"
"Yes."
Liz deliberately chose to omit the one time she had actually forgotten to take it and how the incident had inadvertently led to the other "episode" she experienced in this very room just a very short time ago. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea though - not telling her the whole truth. However, as Dr. Wallace guided her through the exercise, she was relieved to discover that the technique was actually working this time around.
"Good, that's good, Liz."
"Maybe I never should have come out here."
"No, taking charge of your life is a positive step, Liz. There may be some set-backs along the way but I'm really proud of you. You've come a long way since we first met."
Liz still doubted her decision in spite of the support she was receiving from her psychiatrist. Maybe she would take up Dr. Connor's suggestion after all and have Dr. Wallace brought to the base for some in-person, one-on-one sessions. Suddenly, without warning, the power sprang back to life and Liz could feel the tension fade.
"Dr. Wallace? The power just came back on. I think I'm going to be okay now." However, after several seconds with no response back, Liz soon discovered that it was because she had lost reception. "Dr. Wallace, are you still there?" she tried one more time.
Nothing.
"Great," she mumbled, after checking her phone. Signal faded, it read back at her. Clicking it shut, she instinctively took another look in the direction of the door; she found it ajar and her eyes narrowed when she shifted her gaze and caught sight of something small, square, and leather-bound lying on top of one of the silver stretchers near the sinks.
Her journal?
Liz took quick strides towards the stretchers and was shocked to find that it was indeed her misplaced journal sprawled on top of the silver stretcher, the one located closest to the open door, as if it had been waiting there for her this whole time. But she knew that it hadn't been sitting there before.
Or had it?
Picking it up to examine it, Liz skimmed through the contents inside. Nope, nothing appears to be missing, she quickly concluded - everything seemed to be in order with all the pages still intact. So, then, what the hell was going on? Her mind raced with all the possibilities. Was it remotely possible that she really had left it here in the lab and had forgotten? Was somebody playing games with her? After all, high security positions such as these must have done their homework. Therefore, it wouldn't be totally off-base to assume that someone here knew about her troubled past. Or had she really just forgotten to take it back with her because she experienced another "episode" she couldn't recollect? Or, maybe, did one of her fellow colleagues accidentally lift it from the lab and take it back with them by mistake - only to return it back today once they realized they had it in their possession?
Liz was starting to become less and less sure about everything these days but that didn't stop the chills that were forming once again and she just wanted to get out of here for the day. With the journal secured firmly in hand, Liz ran back to gather her stuff. She bolted for the partially opened door, turning and running down the corridor. Her wandering state of mind brought her crashing into the only other warm body now sharing the same space with her.
"Liz?"
Looking up, she was relieved to find that it was only Matthew. She grasped onto him, embracing him as tightly as she could. "Matthew! Thank god it's you."
X
The walk back to the bunker had been a long and silent one; however, Matthew sensed that Liz wanted space - needed it, so he was merely offering her his company tonight. It was dark outside by this time and Liz hadn't wanted to take the walk back alone. After they had literally collided into each other back at the research facility, Liz appeared to be in somewhat of a state of panic. She had wanted to know if he had seen anybody loitering in the halls in which he responded to her with a confused sounding "no." However, she seemed to calm down a little after he had confirmed for her that he, too, had gotten stuck in the power blackout.
Those occur from time to time, he had told her. It's nothing to worry about - you'll get use to them after awhile.
They had completed the walk to the bunker on base.
"Look, sorry for just throwing myself at you like that," Liz opened up. They had stopped walking and she sounded somewhat embarrassed by her behavior now that the freak-out moment had passed and she had time to reflect back on it. "I really don't know what came over me, that's usually not like me at all."
Matthew smirked. "Apologies are completely unnecessary. This is definitely a ... " he paused, trying to think of the right word to use, "a unique place to find yourself working in," he settled on. "I would say that some early morning - or in your case," he amended, "late afternoon working jitters isn't that out of the ordinary," he made light out of it.
Liz smiled in return. She appreciated his attempts at some mild humor.
"Seriously though," he continued. "Being here takes a little getting use to. I mean, it can begin to feel a little claustrophobic to an outsider who's use to coming and going as they please. Believe it or not, it is a way of life here - just like any place else. Living and working on this base long term does require an adjustment period."
"Well, thanks for saying," her voice was full of gratitude, "but I'm sure the last thing you probably need is some female basket-case crying all over your shoulder."
Matthew turned the key inside the door. His door.
"My shoulder is free for the night," he smiled.
"Maybe this isn't such a good idea?" Liz's doubts resurfaced again.
At first, Liz had dreaded the idea of being alone or even worse, heading back to her own bunker only to encounter Serena. Liz was already picking up the extremely weird vibrations coming from that end and her roommate definitely possessed some uncanny sixth sense to know when something was amiss. Quite frankly, she just wasn't in the mood to go another round of Serena's twenty questions; therefore, Matthew had graciously offered to loan out use of the couch at his place if she really felt like it was needed. Liz hadn't gone into details with him, just to tell a little white lie in saying that her roommate would be otherwise engaged for the rest of the evening.
Matthew paused. "Well," he sighed. "I suppose I could always use your couch," he teased. "Of course, that's another twenty minutes across base."
"No, I mean, maybe me being alone isn't such a bad idea after all." Liz averted her eyes away in a guilty fashion.
"Hey, no funny stuff - I promise," he put up his hands, his eyes twinkling underneath the faint glow being cast off by the full moon, as he sensed where her concerns were probably lying with the prospect of the two of them being confined all alone together inside his house.
The sky was also a hovering mass of stars tonight and Liz's attention had momentarily fallen there.
"No, no ... " Liz began to protest in an embarrassed fashion - "I didn't mean to imply that you, that we - " she stumbled over her words. "Okay, god, I sound like an idiot!"
"Liz?!" Matthew began to protest against her protests; however, he got cut off.
"Matthew, look," she sighed, closing her eyes for the briefest of seconds. "You seem like a really nice guy and all but this just isn't going to work out."
He looked stumped. "Okay. Consider me officially confused."
"I'm just not looking for anything serious and I don't know if I've made that clear or not."
He laughed. "Okay, whoa, slow down. Did I miss something here because I thought things were going pretty well between us."
"Getting close to me just isn't a good idea," she finally blurted out. "Trust me."
He took a moment to digest her choice of words. His features tightened just a smidget, as if he were really considering her words carefully - considering for the first time that maybe getting to know her wasn't really the best idea after all. Liz thought she could almost sense the pull - him pulling away from her, closing himself off from her. She couldn't explain how she could detect it; there was something surrounding him - an energy field or an aura of some sort. But worst of all, she didn't want to lose someone who could potentially turn out to be a good friend in the end, especially not when she already felt completely alone in this place as it was.
"Liz, relax. This wasn't an invitation to do anything you didn't want to do. Really, I'm just here to listen because I thought that's what you needed. A friend. But if you're that uncomfortable, I have no problems with walking you the rest of the way back to your own place."
The logical part of her did battle with her feelings.
"Right." Liz glanced once in the direction that would lead her back to her own living quarters and then looked back at Matthew hovering just before the door. God, if he didn't think she was loopy before he sure must now - she thought to herself. Hesitating for another moment, she finally gave in and made her decision. "So, then, no funny stuff, right?" she tried to take out the seriousness from the discussion that had arisen within the last couple minutes.
Matthew's guarded demeanor lifted away and he was back to his easygoing self. "Just my poor taste in really bad jokes."
"Definitely manageable," she smiled back.
Liz followed Matthew inside, intending on leaving all feelings of doubt and insecurity on the front steps for the night.
X
Flashback - (Roswell, New Mexico) January, 2001
The bell could be heard overhead - the familiar jingling sound reaching Liz's ears as she waltzed through the swinging door with expertise, the same door connecting the back room to the restaurant floor of the Crashdown Cafe.
Her stomach lurched, her heart skipped a beat - she couldn't help it. But a migraine suddenly hit her hard - they had been coming and going these past couple weeks; however, they were returning with more frequency and with much more intensity. Even though the chances were slim to none and it had been weeks since she last saw his face, a nervous anticipation still arose in the pit of her stomach each and every time the doorbell chimed. But the disappointment always quickly followed suit. And it was no different this time - as she looked up, the hope disintegrated like it had a thousand times in the past month, sending her heart plummeting and crashing into millions of pieces. When she had finally broken down with the truth, she had at least anticipated breaking down with the whole truth. It was so pointless to walk around feeling this lousy without having confessed everything. The holidays had lingered on - Max purposefully avoiding her, and with the exception of her parents, Christmas and New Year's had been lonely and unbearable.
In through the door, walked a young man Liz had never laid eyes on before. She quickly skirted over behind the far end of the counter, reaching down on the shelf - she grabbed for the small bottle of aspirin she kept there now in case of an emergency. This was definitely one of those times - she couldn't work without it. Not that they did much good; however, at least it helped to take off the edge. Twisting the cap off, she poured one out and popped it into her mouth - tilting her head backwards as she swallowed it down. Her attention returned to the handsome stranger.
"Yo'," he walked up to the counter and flashed the waitress standing behind it his best, most confident smile.
Liz couldn't help but roll her eyes at the obvious display of flirtation. The grin came across with such expertise - emanating from it was a slight touch of arrogance, an arrogance perfected over time so that it shined with just the right amount of sex appeal to lure its victim in - in this case, the unfortunate waitress named Becky who was washing down the counter top in this very moment. Bait for the hook, Liz thought with some disgust. Okay, so maybe that wasn't completely fair of her, she quickly relented. After all, she was feeling very bitter regarding the whole prospect of love and dating relationships in general right now. But there definitely was a fine-line between the sexy, bad boy persona that drew alot of women in shamelessly with their ability to say just the right things at the right times and the downright rude and cocky pig version of a guy that was sickeningly appalling. But this guy knew exactly how to carry himself as the former - a bad boy type who carried himself with such a sense of ease, Liz noted.
And just the opposite of Max. Which could be a good thing right about now.
"Could you tell me if a Maria Deluca works here?"
Maria? This guy knew Maria? Her Maria? After overhearing Maria's name brought up in the small verbal exchange, Liz quickly located a washcloth and headed for one of the empty booths. In a discreet manner, she did her very best to appear totally immersed in the task at hand while trying to eavesdrop on the conversation at the same time.
"Um, yeah, actually there is," the bashful smile coming from the waitress clashed with the guy's confident grin. "But she's not working tonight. I don't even think she's on the schedule again 'til Friday. Sorry," she shrugged. The look on her face fell somewhere in between - feeling disappointed for her own sake because she couldn't help and apologetic on his behalf.
"Oh, well," the handsome stranger's smiled widened. "That sucks," he laughed just enough to put the waitress at ease and allow her to still feel included.
Her small nervous laugh accompanied his.
"Like I said - sorry," her voice hitched and went like nine octaves beyond valley-girl. She was now nervously toying with the ends of her hair.
Yup, these two were totally flirting. Gross, Liz thought, and she resisted the immediate urge to stick out her tongue on reflex to this encounter.
"Let's see," then he reached for his wallet located in the back pocket of his pants. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to help a guy out here and tell me where it is that I might be able to find her?"
He flashed a twenty-dollar bill between his fingers in front of her face.
Liz may have managed to resist sticking out her tongue before; however - right now, she couldn't stop herself from peering back over her shoulder and catching the bribe in action. She huffed under her breath. Wow, this guy really was a piece of work.
"Um ..." the waitress hesitated.
The stranger went for broke - pulling out the irresistible puppy dog eyes. "Please," he leaned down, resting one arm down against the counter top as he brought himself closer to her. "An address - a phone number, just something to point me in the right direction."
"Uh - sorry, but I'm really not suppose to give out any personal information on the employees even if I did know it."
"Okay, uh - " his eyes darted to her name tag, "Rebecca, is it?"
That's it, no more standing by because this guy just didn't know when to quit. It was time to get involved in the drama so Liz threw the dirty rag against the table and turned in the direction of the encounter that was still actively taking place.
"Yeah, but everybody usually calls me Becky," the waitress nervously pushed a strand of her red hair back behind one ear.
"Right, Becky. Maybe we're just not speaking the same language yet," he reached back into his wallet - producing a hundred dollar bill the second time around. "If you can't point me in the right direction, perhaps you know somebody who can?"
Liz caught the last remarks.
"Actually, that direction will now be me. I'm Elizabeth Parker but everyone around here calls me Liz," she pushed her way straight into the conversation. "Um, my parents own this restaurant so, lucky for me, I get to have you kicked out of here at anytime I feel like it. Maria happens to be a very good friend of mine and Becky's shift just officially ended, oh - about two minutes ago," Liz glanced down at the time displayed on her wrist watch. Her attention then fell to the other waitress. "It's alright, Becky, I can actually take it from here," she smiled back over at her.
The stranger turned to stare at Liz. "Whoa - what the hell just crawled up your attitude and died?" he cracked.
"You!" Liz shot right back. "For your information, this is a restaurant - a place of actual business, not some illegal gambling ring where you get to place bets on which waitress you think will be the first one to give you the information you need." Her eyes shot down to the money he still held in his hand.
The stranger snorted - he was clearly not bothered by her snarky retorts. He crumpled up the money inside his hand.
Liz looked back at Becky. "See you tomorrow, Rebecca."
Becky issued Liz an uncertain smile and then gave a weak wave to signal her departure as she finally excused herself from the discussion. While walking away, she removed her apron and the alien-themed head band decorative that was a part of the uniform ensemble at the Crashdown. Liz watched her go, as did the stranger standing right beside her.
"Actually, on second thought," the stranger moved to sit himself down on one of the stools, "what rock did you even crawl out from under?" he immediately shot his attention straight back to Liz. "I didn't even see you around here a second ago." He made a deliberate show of looking around the restaurant.
Liz was trying to keep her cool but it was becoming increasingly difficult. "Look, the kitchen's closing in like another half an hour - if you're not going to order anything you can leave. The sign posted out front says no loitering, no soliciting."
Another cocky grin fell into place. Liz narrowed her eyes - she felt like slapping it right off, she could read these guys like an open book. A tingling spurt of energy sparked to life inside of her; however, she didn't pay too much mind to it. She just wanted to get rid of this guy out of her family's restaurant as fast as she could. But, nope, no such luck.
"Menu, please?" he held out his hand.
Feeling even more irritated now than she was before, Liz marched behind the counter, grabbed for one of the menus, and then just about slammed it down in front of him. All the while, most of her reactions were just proving to egg him on more rather than annoying or discouraging him in any real sense. Liz threw herself into work mode - reaching for her pen and order pad.
"Anything to drink?" her voice was cold and distant.
"Uh," he laughed, the smirk never leaving his face. He grabbed for the menu, opening and scanning the contents at snail pace. "Sure, let's see."
Liz started to tap her foot impatiently behind the counter. He was enjoying this - she could just feel it, he got off on making other people squirm.
"What do you recommend?"
Liz huffed, loud enough so he could hear. "Are you serious?"
"Hey, look, babe - your customer service skills? A little rocky there, okay?" His face contorted as he rethought about it. "Actually, no, lets be frank about it - they outright suck!" he laughed at her. "And you might want to actually try smiling once and awhile when taking someone's order. After all, you uniform types," he nodded his head in the direction of hers, "do fall back on all those hard earned tips."
"Okay, then," Liz gritted between some teeth. "How about some cherry cola?! With arsenic!" she quickly added on, recollecting Maria's inventive rebuff back in the day when she and Michael were the ones see-sawing back and forth in their rocky relationship. It was funny how things could change. "Maria tells me that one's really popular with the guys. Or," she mocked him some more, before he could cut back in with a response, while flashing him a big fake smile, "I hear shaving cream soda is like the new root beer?!"
He nodded his head - mocking her by acting like he was actually taking into consideration what she was suggesting. "Ah, there we go, Maria -" he responded. "Now that sounds like something I'd be interested in."
"Who the hell are you?" Liz demanded to know.
He leaned closer. "Aw," he played with her some more. "But things were going so well between us. Why go and ruin such a good thing with names?" Then there was a deliberate pause as he searched her face. "Oh, wait, that's right," he snapped his fingers, "you already gave yours up. Liz."
"Is everything seriously just a joke with you?"
For the first time, the smirk faded and a serious look took root. "Not everything."
The sudden shift of his tone when he uttered those two words, combined with the serious way in which he was now staring at her, momentarily gave her the chills. The creepy kind of chills. The intensity hidden behind his stare was just a little bit too much for two people who had just met for the first time. However, the look coming from behind his eyes seemed to want to tell her a completely different story, or at least, believed it. It was then that Liz shifted on her feet - turned around to move out from behind the counter, and when the stranger assumed that she was leaving him there to rot, he quickly jumped in with the introductions.
"The name's Sean," he relented. "Sean Deluca. Maria's my cousin, well - " he amended, "distant cousin. We weren't really that close growing up." To his apparent relief, Liz wasn't leaving - she had only made her way back around to the other side of the counter and was now standing just a few feet away from him.
"Cousin?" Liz repeated - not quite believing it. "Seriously - you're not screwing around with me or anything?" she pushed. A devilish grin set back into place and before Sean had the chance to throw in a wise crack retort, Liz quickly intervened. "Don't answer that," she briefly closed her eyes - kicking herself for her own choice of words.
"Why? Screwing around with you might actually prove to be fun. Don't knock it until you've tried it," he delivered.
Liz felt her face flush as the heat rushed to her face. However, the sensation hadn't arisen because of any embarrassment she was feeling from her end but rather from the growing anger that was pulsing everywhere inside of her due to him. And she couldn't stop it, the tingling sensations were coming at quicker intervals and in more intense forms. Bursts of hot energy were just begging to be released; and for a moment, she feared she might spontaneously combust. The migraine suddenly returned in full force - she brought one hand to her forehead while the other squeezed onto the order pad held tightly at her side. She was so distracted by her sudden plight that she hadn't even paid any attention to the bell chiming over the door as another new customer walked inside.
And then she recognized the voice.
"Is there a problem here?"
Max. The tone he carried was different - void of any of the anger, hurt, or resentment that had spilt forth weeks ago upstairs inside her bedroom and on her balcony. He actually sounded, was it concerned? Maybe even a little bit - alarmed?! The next thing she knew, she felt Max leaning in next to her - the movement was so subtle and swift, and he was resting a comforting hand against her lower back. She couldn't explain why but all of a sudden she felt those tingling explosions, the same ones that were coarsing everywhere throughout her body - slow down, lose energy, and subside altogether until she was finally replaced with a very gentle and relaxing sensation. It was actually pretty soothing - until the next wise ass remark passed from Sean's lips.
"No problem here, man," Sean smirked, clearly taking his time to enjoy sizing up the competition. "Little Lizzie and I were actually just engaging in a little, healthy foreplay. No harm done. But, hey, you know - " he shrugged casually, "if you feel like joining in next time, give me a call ahead of time. I'll be sure to put you on my MySpace account."
Max shot him a death glare.
Sean's wide grin resurfaced. "Who are you anyway, like her big brother or something?"
Max ignored the obvious attempts being made by the newcomer at getting under his skin. "Liz, can I talk to you in the back for a second?"
Before she had a chance to respond, he was forcefully pushing her to to back, and during the process managed to grab a hold of her arm so he could continue pulling her there. The anger was suddenly returning in spades - just who the hell did he think he was ushering her off like that, like a piece of property? Right after they had glided through the swinging doors leading to the kitchen - Liz yanked her arm free.
"Don't ever do that again, Max!" her voice rose. "I can find my own way to the kitchen; I'm not a child. Don't ever treat me like one."
Max bit his tongue and instead held up his hand to halt an argument. He had wanted to tell her to stop acting like one but didn't. That's not why he had come here, the purpose was not to engage in another verbal confrontation before he had the chance to say what he needed to say to her and get the rest of the answers he wanted. Liz stared back; however, his reaction signaled one thing to her. It was suddenly clear to Liz - that at least he wasn't here to fight. It was a good sign.
"Liz?!" the urgency in his tone took her off guard. "Your hand was glowing red out there - how come you didn't see or feel that?!" he confessed to her - glancing down at her right hand, the one that still held the order pad tightly within it's grip. "I saw the heat - the heat coming from your hand was causing the pad to smoke."
Heat? Smoke? Coming from her hand? Liz became lost in a daze - her facial expression the only response she was offering back. She found herself slowly shaking her head in denial.
"Look," his head nod indicated the pad, "if you don't believe me. If I hadn't come in here when I had, I don't know what would have happened but I'm glad we didn't have to find out. I saw it from outside - just after I got here."
Liz's eyes shot down to it. As she turned the order pad over in her hand to observe it more closely, she was shocked to discover scorch marks. "Oh my god," her eyes widened in disbelief - not sure what to make of what she was staring at.
Holy cow! When Ava had said "different," that I was now different, something like this never even crossed my mind. I burnt something completely on my own?!
"Max?" the shock was evident among the pleading tone.
"Is that the first time something like this has happened?" Max questioned. He moved to take the order pad out of her hand and carefully inspected it himself.
"Um, yeah," Liz nodded slowly, thinking and still feeling dazed and confused - completely taken aback. Another shocking revelation hit her head on. "And oh my god - Sean!" she declared, suddenly bringing her hands up to cover her face in the waking realization of something so horrible. "He was sitting right there in front of me! Max, oh my god, what if he saw it - what if he saw me doing that?" she panicked. "What if he tells somebody?"
"I don't think he did," Max tried to sound reassuring but even he couldn't be positive. It had all happened so fast before he gotten inside. "Do you know what triggered it?" In a distracted manner, Max had taken another few steps back towards the swinging doors - peering out the small window and into the restaurant. His eyes shifted over to the counters.
"I don't know, just stupid things. Annoying things, things he was just saying out there to get under my skin. I think I might have felt this spark of energy - when I felt angry at him. Later, it just exploded and took on a life of it's own." She sounded really concerned by the prospect. What if this happened again and she couldn't control it? What if Max wasn't there to help prevent something disastrous from taking place? "I've also been having these really intense migraines over the past few weeks or so," she thought to confess. "Aspirin isn't touching them."
A concerned expression graced Max's face. He turned to look at her. "They've just begun in the last month? You mean since ... " he averted his eyes towards the floor, coming to the conclusion the same time Liz voiced it.
"Since I pushed myself to tap into Isabel's power and help save you?" she directed the conclusion at him. "Yeah, pretty much."
"Doing that is what must have triggered whatever happened out there just now," he reasoned. "Activated a part of your brain that usually stays dormant in most humans."
"Great!" She threw her arms up and then back down at her sides. "So, then, what do I do now?" her voice sounded strained - tired. She brought her hands to her forehead to fight off the beginnings of another starting to take effect.
"We'll figure something out." No direct eye contact was made. "But the good news is that he's gone for now." Max moved to walk away from the door.
"Like I said, great," Liz mumbled, not sounding convinced, as she dropped her arms back at her sides for the second time. She wished she felt as confident as Max sounded. Of course, she sensed that was just an act. His guilt was splashing all over him like waves.
"Max, I don't blame you."
"Who is he?" Max tried his best to force the question out as casually as possible - without any hidden jealous undertones mixing in with it.
He intentionally avoided responding to the declaration made by Liz just seconds before because he couldn't accept it as the truth. Of course, this was his fault. He was the one who had healed her, he was the one who had now sentenced her to a life that would never be normal - she wasn't going to have her normal life with her normal guy and normal kids to boot? This was a big fat mess - for everyone involved. What if things got weirder - how would they handle it? Michael, Isabel, Tess and himself barely knew much about themselves, let alone, how to handle a situation Liz was now finding herself trapped in. And to top it off, this had now completely side-tracked him from what he had originally come here to do.
"Just some jerk that doesn't know his brain from his biceps," she cracked. She ran her hands through her hair, an anxious gesture. "Actually, the biceps aren't even that great either," she laughed a little before a bashful look took root on her face soon after.
Max's face broke into a smirk.
Liz sighed. "He finally got around to introducing himself as Maria's cousin or so he says," she relayed her doubts to him. "He came in here looking for her."
"Maria's cousin?"
"Yeah, Sean."
"But - you've never seen him before?" Max's brows furrowed in contemplation. "Never met him before?" his curiosity was piqued.
"No. But he said they weren't close so, I don't know, maybe he's telling the truth. I'm probably just being paranoid after everything that's happened," she huffed out in one huge breath - surveying the dirty tiled floor just briefly - a floor in desperate need of some mopping. Looking back over at Max, she still managed to catch his body language and he visibly tensed. Liz quickly changed the subject. "But, uh, thanks for whatever it was you did out there. It helped."
"Sure."
An uncomfortable silence arose between them.
"Liz, look, there was actually another reason I came over here," he finally admitted, the distraction relating to Liz's unexpected power boost being put to rest for the time being. They both knew what topic of discussion was coming next - it wasn't like they could just take a magic pencil and erase the events that went down weeks ago.
"Max, if this is about before, I'm sorry - I know I can't stress that enough but if you were planning on coming here and sticking it to me another five rounds," her voice broke a little, "you'll have to take a number," she moved to walk past him, heading straight for the door that would take her to the backstairs leading to her apartment situated just above the restaurant. "Because, honestly, the past month alone has been punishment enough for me and considering my current state of mind, I think I might be capable of doing even more damage that I might not be able to control."
"No, I don't think so," he refuted, shaking his head as he briefly reflected on it. As she went to move past him, he reached out to grab her arm, swinging her back around and preventing her from leaving the room. "Liz? I'm about one of the only people you know in this world who can withstand that kind of damage - so I'll take my chances." His voice was firm, Liz noted, but not angry or condescending at all. It was a place to start. Slowly, he let go of her arm and she remained stationary. "I need some answers," he declared. "Real answers. It's the only way I'll ever be able to truly ... " he struggled with the words, "move on."
Their eyes locked. There was so much unspoken emotion dancing between them.
Liz broke eye contact first. "Fine," she relented.
Flinging her arms up in the air at her sides, Max watched the open display of body language as they also came back down to rest again. She turned and began pacing the length of the square table, her entire backside facing him while she was lost deep in thought. She already knew there was more she needed to tell him - pertinent facts he still did not know about. However, she decided to let him lead the discussion. He could just ask and she would just tell. Hm, would he lose his cool and collected demeanor once he heard everything? The truth about Future Max and the reality he came from? About the necessity really lying behind him and Tess reconnecting - in this life, in order to defeat their enemies? The bile rose in her throat, it came uninvited; however, Liz couldn't prevent it.
Max just continued to observe from a distance.
"Go ahead," she pushed, spotting a huge butcher knife lying on the kitchen table. Picking it up, she examined the sharp tip on close inspection. She thought about how it would feel - the tip of the knife plunging deep into her heart.
Isn't that what had already happened anyway?
"Not here," Max surprised her by inching up on her from behind and gently removing the huge knife from out of her grasp. She let him. Placing it back down, his gaze traveled back over in the direction of the grills - where the cook was busy finishing up the last of the orders for the day. Like Maria, Michael was also off today - they had spent the holidays together and had both received the time off. Jose was stuck manning the grills by himself, desperately needing the money to pay for his rent. Liz followed to exactly where Max's line of sight landed. "I wanted to go somewhere," he paused - his face turning back to meet hers, "a little more private."
"Where? My parents are home so we can't go upstairs ... "
"No, I already have a place in mind," he cut off her protest before she could even finish the thought. "But we'll need to take a drive," he reached into his side pocket and pulled out the keys to his jeep. He headed for the side door exit leading out into the alleyway.
Liz stood still for several seconds before moving to leave.
"Coming?" Max announced back over his shoulder after taking quick notice that Liz hadn't moved to follow behind him.
"Yeah."
x
The drive up to Buckley's point was even more awkward than she had imagined it would be. At least, that was where she found out that Max had intended to go after hopping into the jeep beside him - back to the final destination point that had officially signaled the end to an era. How depressing, Liz thought as the vast desert air had sped up all around her - sending her long brown hair flying in a multitude of directions. Night had fallen; therefore, it was hard to make out much of anything except the dark sky and the thousands of stars hovering high above them everywhere. The entire ride had been nothing but silence - neither one uttering a single word.
Now, forty-five minutes later, the jeep rolled over the hard and rocky surface of road leading to the one place, quite honestly, Liz never wanted to set eyes on again. This was the scene of their official break-up. It was also the place the aliens had come to label and identify as the pod chamber. Liz also knew that this was where the Granolith was stashed away - hidden from enemy aliens who would do just about anything to get their hands on it. This thing - whatever it was suppose to be, was treasured as precious cargo by Max's people. It was something extremely powerful and dangerous if it ever fell into the wrong hands; however, it was also the one instrument responsible for destroying Liz's future - taking away her dreams and the one person she had come to love and care about so deeply that there weren't even any appropriate words to do the feelings justice. This artifact had transported Future Max to a time and place that was no longer his own - to her, to crush her heart and release her into a future unknown.
Liz could still remember just like it was yesterday. She was running down the steep, rocky incline - running away from him, from "her" - Tess. Running away from the confirmation she had dreaded hearing, starting from the day his lips locked with Tess's under the pouring rain. Manipulation on Tess Harding's part or not, those two still had been strangely drawn to each other from the first moment Tess stepped foot in Roswell and Liz now knew why. She had her answer, as unwanted and unwelcoming as the truth was for her. All Future Max had done by visiting all those weeks back was bang the final nail into the coffin, a coffin that was already delivered to them through the message that came from that orb - via Max's Antarian mother. Future Max was just the official seal of approval, Liz concluded.
The car stopped. Max killed the ignition and he stared ahead for a moment.
The sting felt just as fresh as the day he remembered chasing Liz out of the pod chamber and onto the rocky incline. He had done everything in his power to reassure her, at least he thought so at the time, to make her see - to make her understand that it didn't matter what anyone said about them. Not Michael, not Isabel, not Nascedo, not Tess, not even a mother he couldn't remember from another lifetime - no one could make him live a life he wasn't willing to accept on his own. It was a life he refused and scoffed at because he felt like he didn't want it, not unless that life somehow included Liz. However, whether he wanted it or not, the truth was that he had come to discover his true identity, he struggled with it - fought against it; however, it was no use. He was who he was, a King, and not just any King but a King destined to save another world. Destined to return to a home he could no longer recall, to a life that really wasn't his own. Because with his title, came immense responsibilities - duties and obligations, and sometimes that meant letting go and doing what was in the best interest of everyone, what was needed to be done, even if those decisions hurt like hell for him or others involved. Perhaps, it really had been selfish of him to try and hold on to Liz the way he had? Was he really just leading her on all that time - filling her with a sense of false hope when he could very well have to leave here one day to fulfill his moral duty to his home planet? As pissed off as he still was, he loved Liz - even in the wake of everything that had happened between them. He always would love her but that didn't mean that love always conquered in the end. This wasn't a fairytale - it was real life and in real life, happy endings weren't a guarantee and curve balls usually had a way of finding you on the baseball field of life.
"We can go inside," Max finally volunteered. "The pods inside of the chamber will cast off some light - it's dim, but it's more than what we'll get out here."
Liz lifted herself out of the jeep, not even waiting for Max to help her out; she and Max then began the ascent up the incline that would take them to the place where the pod-squad were "born." When they reached the top, Liz observed from the background as Max used his hand to open the entrance. A silver glowing hand print appeared below Max's hand on the surface of rock and a few seconds later - a hissing sound erupted, a sound momentarily startling Liz and causing her to jump. It was just the sound of rock foundation separating itself and creating a way inside.
Max entered first - Liz following closely behind.
He was right. The glow emanating from the pods did give off light - it was very much like a greenish fluorescent shine bouncing off the cave walls. She watched as Max moved further inside to take a seat on a rocky stump. The hissing sound resumed again, Liz turned - witnessing the chamber door closing shut behind them.
"Don't worry - we can get out just like we got in."
Liz walked over to join Max, forcing her nervous jitters to subside. Of course they would be able to get out - how ridiculous of her to think otherwise. Despite everything that went down between them these past months, she still trusted Max with her life. Taking a seat a couple of spaces away from him, she waited for the inevitable to come to pass.
"So - what haven't you told me?" he finally opened up - after a few moments of contemplative thought. She wasn't the only one with the nervous jitters and a part of him might still be angry but another part of him feared what she would say - feared her rejection of him all over again.
"What?" she was a little taken aback by his blunt forwardness. He was looking straight down at the ground when he asked her the question - not directly at her.
"What are you keeping from me?" his voice carried a touch of impatience when rephrasing the question for her. "I know that you're not telling me everything. There has to be a reason why you and Kyle both thought it was okay to set me up. I've been wracking my brain these past weeks for a reason that makes sense and there just isn't one. So what is it?"
Max turned to face her this time and there was no timidness, no sign of the shy, reserved boy from over a year ago. His face was set in clear cut determination - intent on getting to the bottom of the truth.
"Max, don't blame Kyle for this - okay? Please. I asked him to do this as a favor to me - he didn't even know the real reason behind why I was doing it."
"Then I'd say that makes it even worse for him," Max reasoned, challenging her position on Kyle. "There was no other reason for him to go along with it except in getting his chance to stick it to me. He knew what he was doing."
"Max, it's not like that."
Max huffed to himself in disbelief. "I save his life and this is what I get in return."
Liz sighed. "Max?!"
"Liz, don't!" he cut off her protest. He really wasn't in any mood to sit next her while she rattled on in defense of Kyle and his actions. "Kyle was shot - he could have died last year. And I've always known that there's been this part of him that continued to resent me even after the healing - I knew that, I felt it. I get all that but this isn't about me regretting or having second thoughts about what I did for him. I'd do it again. But what he did, he knew he was doing it."
"You knew too."
It came out just barely above a whisper but Max still made it out.
"Excuse me?"
"I said you knew too!" her voice hitched, emotion jumping out from the words. This time, Liz turned to face him head on. "Another version of you did; your future self knew about everything we did. This isn't about Kyle, Max - it's about you and me."
Liz's eyes had watered over - she bit against her lower lip, a nervous gesture. From his end, he was staring back at her, digesting her words, while considering the possibility that she had actually gone mad. After further contemplation, Max thought back to earlier on - perhaps now wasn't a good time to address this because of the changes she was experiencing?
"Say something," she pushed when he didn't answer her back.
"Say what?" he retorted. "What am I suppose to say to that, Liz, except - are you absolutely sure that you're okay?" he was trying extremely hard to contain the anger bubbling just below the surface. "Because none of what you're saying is making a whole lot of sense to me right now."
This was her cop out - the best she could come up with? Inventing a story and placing the blame back on him? Unbelievable!
Liz bolted from her seat. "I am not crazy, Max, okay?" she became defensive.
Max bolted up next - confronting Liz's emotional onslaught.
"Liz, I didn't say you were crazy but what the hell are you talking about? So far, I haven't heard one damn explanation that really makes me understand why you thought faking a night with Kyle was something that you needed to do."
An incredulous but sad smile appeared on her face. "You think I'm making this up. I saw the look on your face, Max, you think I'm lying to you." She ran both hands through her hair and began pacing a safe distance away from him.
"Liz, what am I suppose to think?" her reaction caused him to instantly regret the way he was doubting her. If Max didn't know any better, Liz really believed the story she was trying to engage him in. Max attempted to reach out and grab a hold of her. Maybe if he just got to touch her for the briefest of seconds - he'd be able to ignite a connection and see what she was trying to tell him? But she pushed him away.
"No, don't touch me!"
He flinched against the sudden hostility that had arisen within her. "Maybe you should just start over again from the beginning."
"No, no - take me home," her eyes closed and her head began shaking from side to side. "I want to go home, Max, take me home. I really thought I would be able to handle this right now but I can't." She darted for the entrance.
Max refused to budge. "No! I deserve an answer and I'm not leaving here until I get one from you," he threatened - but instantly felt the guilt coarse through him the moment he glimpsed the fear that passed over her face. His intention was never to make her afraid of him - even if he was feeling absolutely furious with her.
"Max, let me out of here!" she cried, banging her hands against the solid rock. "Right now!" The hand banging increased until it became full-on fist banging.
Max moved to stop her - just to prevent her from bringing any unnecessary physical harm to herself. He grabbed for her wrists - "Liz, stop."
"Let go!" She attempted to use her constricted wrists and beat them against his chest.
"Liz, I said stop, you're going to hurt yourself."
"I did it because of you - because you asked me to!" she lashed out and stopped thrashing about. They were standing perfectly still and Max finally released her. "There, okay?! You wanted your answer, now there, let me out of here!" she demanded.
Precious seconds of silence elapsed in between them while they just stood there staring. Staring at each other.
"Hold on," Max's hurt and anger was shining at full force. "Liz, are you kidding me? If I actually believe that, the defense to your behavior over the course of the last few months - the excuse for why you've been pushing me away this entire time, is going to be to blame me for doing something I didn't do yet - or rather, something that I am not even aware of doing at all? Something I didn't get a say in? Liz, you've been standing here telling me you're not crazy but do you realize how crazy that sounds?"
"It happened, Max."
"That's just it - what happened, Liz? I still don't understand what that was."
"You came to me, Max. You came from the future - through the Granolith!" she threw her arms in the air, desperately trying to get the story out in a cohesive manner - once and for all. "You wanted to know before you left for New York, you asked me how I knew about the Granolith? Well, that's how, Max! You told me about it, your future self did, it's how you traveled back from the future to the past. The Granolith transported you here." The tears were streaming down fast - she looked so vulnerable and lost.
Max was struck speechless as he tried to absorb the information.
"I didn't believe it was really you at first, I really didn't. But you knew things, impossible things - he knew them and these were things that no one could have known. You said - he said," she tried her best to correct the usage of persons - they were technically one in the same; however, the Max standing before her hadn't evolved into that version of himself yet and it was unlikely he ever would either. "He said that Khi'var came down here, Max. He destroyed the Earth because you were here and that without the Royal Four intact - there was very little that could be done to stop it. Tess left Roswell, Max, she left because of us."
Max felt a twinge of guilt - he didn't know why, but he was suddenly moved to breach the distance inspite of his anger and pull her into his embrace. He resisted doing it, he knew it wouldn't be welcomed at this point in time; therefore, instead - he just stood in place with his arms crossed over his chest taking in every word that slipped from her lips.
"Wait," his face contorted, after thinking about the admission some more. "You're telling me that Tess left Roswell because, you and I, we're still together," he pointed between the two of them, "as in together together."
"Yes."
"So then you made a major and final decision on us without consulting me first for my input, based on some big speech given to you by some guy you met only one time," he concluded. He didn't know whether to break into uncontrollable spouts of hysterical laughter or to react with convulsing anger. Did he ever really know her, he began to question himself. Why she wouldn't think he needed to be made aware of all this was beyond him.
"Future Max," she addressed him by name for the first time in this entire exchange with her version of Max. Folding her arms over each other, she took the required amount of steps back to the rocky stump and sat back down. "He said that the four of you made a special unit, your power balanced each other out - made you stronger. The Four Square. But without you and Tess bonded together like the two of you were always meant to be, just like Michael and Isabel are meant to be, and without cementing the relationship to your partners - it made all of you even more vulnerable to your enemies."
"Liz, how do you even know any of it is true?" His frustration did battle with the shocking message she had just finished delivering. "Some guy who shows up at your house, claiming to be me, and you just believe whatever line he has to tell you! You take his word, just like that, without any doubts at all?!" he sounded incredulous.
"I couldn't tell you, Max. He said not to - you said not to."
"And that doesn't strike you as the least bit suspicious? Why didn't you come to me, Liz, and if not to me, then at least to Michael!" he demanded to know. "If any of this is true, you kept us all in the dark about something that effects us all."
"I didn't ask for any of this. I didn't ask to be healed by you, I didn't ask for Tess to show up here, I didn't ask for your stupid destiny to get in the way," her voice hitched, the tears escaping once again and breaking free as she vented, "and I certainly didn't ask for some future version of you to show up on my balcony so he could crush me with the news that I had been right. Right to walk away from you that day here in the pod chamber because we were never meant to be. It would never be enough to save the freaking world," she vented though hot, streaming tears. "That I would never be good enough for you."
"Liz, I ... " he didn't know what he was suppose to say.
Sure, he knew what he wanted to say. That every single piece of information spilling from her tongue felt all wrong somehow, like a sick cosmic joke the universe had thought up and spit out down upon them?! That not telling him all of this from the beginning was just plain insanity and made everything alot worse - not by any means better?!
Tess bonded to him for life? Cemented together for the sake of a future that hadn't arrived yet? Deep down buried somewhere inside of himself, he reacted - his senses connected to the information that he felt meant something important; however, Tess was still the last person that came to mind when he imagined a relationship on such a level. Yes, they had grown closer together, but those feelings didn't surmount to anything that deep. And they never would either - not as long as Liz Parker was still living and breathing.
"You know, there are alot of things I didn't ask for here either. I never asked for the Special Unit to come after me. I didn't ask for Pierce, I didn't ask to be thrown into the white room and subjected to hours of his ..."
Liz brought her hands to her ears. "Stop!" she pleaded. She could remember the images from the White Room crystal clear from her connection with Max.
"I didn't ask for Michael to be so damn hard-headed so that he gets us into more trouble than it's worth half the time," his rant continued, intensifying. "And I sure as hell didn't ask for you to leave or disappear for an entire summer when I really needed you the most," he lashed out. "And I don't ever remember asking to be a King in this lifetime," he punched his fist against the rock, his ragged breaths beginning to slow. "Michael, Isabel, and I," he thought about it in deep contemplation, "we've always minded our own business here - kept to ourselves. We've never hurt anyone. But maybe they were right all along and I was wrong. I won't ever regret saving your life, Liz, but maybe it was just for the best not to have ever gotten so close! For any of us to have gotten so close to outsiders. Because now what I feared from the beginning is happening. We're all just getting hurt in the end."
"This is all my fault," Liz mumbled, staring at the ground. She was standing again - folding her arms and swaying on her feet. She felt numb. "I failed. I couldn't even do one thing right - which was to keep all this a secret like I was suppose to. I hurt us both for nothing."
"Liz ... "
"Don't say anything, Max." Her voice was suddenly filled with emotion again and it was visible just about everywhere else on her face. "We just weren't meant to be. Can we just leave it at that and both walk away with what dignity we have left?"
So she was actually still going to take it all at face value?
"Liz," his eyes closed for a brief moment, trying to compose his thoughts as best he could. "I don't know what some other version of me thought he knew but I'm telling you what I know. The idea that the world is going to end, whenever that's suppose to be," he quickly remembered that she hadn't provided him with an exact date and time, "because Tess and I don't marry - is" his mind fought for the right wording, "it doesn't fit. The fate of an entire planet resting solely in the hands of one, maybe two relationships? Sure, I mean Tess and I we're ..." he stumbled over the words, "we're sort of like friends now but that doesn't mean I want to be with her. We count on her - she counts on us, we would never turn her away or make her leave. There's no reason for her to even want to leave. And, trust me, Michael and Isabel aren't hooking up anytime soon. It's ridiculous."
His protests fell on deaf ears. He still didn't get it, Liz thought.
"Max, it doesn't matter," Liz argued. "People's feelings can change with time."
"And some feelings can never be changed."
Liz looked up at him - the words spoken matched the emotion covering his face. He wasn't going to give up, he was going to continue to believe there was another way around this - wasn't he, she reflected sadly. A part of her envied that ability he seemed to carry with him, she wished she could be just as blindly optimistic when it came down to their future.
"Come here," he instructed, reaching out for her. "I want to show you something."
"What?" a puzzled expression crossed her face.
He guided her to the pods. Then, after bending down, he crawled on his hands and knees - leading the way to the other side. Liz followed behind him and when she came up on the other side, she was shocked to discover just where it was that the Granolith was kept hidden. A door stood before them and it automatically slid open - they didn't even have to touch anything to activate or unlock it. After walking inside, Liz was greeted by the most magnificent sight. A slight pull - or tugging sensation beckoned her to come closer.
"The Granolith." She didn't even need to ask him to verify it.
The big inverted crystal structure rested overhead in a cone shaped form - it's meeting point secured on the ground just beneath it. The entire layout of the Granolith chamber was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. She ran her hands against the walls surrounding them, making up the whole circular compartment. Maria had been in here and seen it once before, back when Michael had showed it to her. She had done her best to describe it to Liz; however, she never imagined it being anything like this. The dark tinted floor appeared very much like a smooth sheet of glass below them - so fragile looking that a person might fear cracking it with even one gentle lift of the foot.
"Go ahead and touch it."
His voice brought her out from the momentary scientific reverie she found herself lost in while observing her surroundings. "What?" the confusion spread over her face.
"Touch the center - the crystal portion. I want to see if I can make a connection coming from it back through to you," he was serious, Liz observed. "You said this other version of me came from the future, right? And that the Granolith made it possible for him, for me, to come here? Well, maybe there's some type of energy field left over from the time travel that can show us the truth. I need to know the truth," he stressed to her. "I need to be able to see it for myself."
Liz's expression appeared skeptical. "Uh, I don't know, Max. Do you even know how this thing works?"
"Do you want me to know the truth or not?" his voice hardened.
"Of course I want you to know, Max, that's why I told you."
"Then I need to try this - we need to try this." His voice was almost pleading, begging for her to give him this final closure.
Liz took a deep breath and then reluctantly stepped forward next to him. Gently, he took her hand and placed it against the crystal chamber. He repeated the action with one of his own hands and then brought his free hand up to rest against the side of her face. Liz involuntarily shivered at his touch - at being this close to him, it had been a long time. A faint glow suddenly sprang to life, forming a pattern around both their hands - almost like an X-ray taking a picture, only instead of their bones, it was their energy. She could feel the energy being extracted like blood into a needle; however, there was no pain.
And then it happened.
Images sprang to life - there was a connection made. Images of their life together, their wedding in Vegas. Dancing happily, barefoot in the desert sand outside of a Nevada dive, to the familiar tune of Sheryl Crow's - I Shall Believe. The others - Michael, Maria, Isabel, Alex, even Kyle, we're all in the background acting goofy as they ran around the parked cars having a good time. There were shouts of laughter at high volume when Alex retrieved some sand from the desert floor, a triumphant grin plastered across his face as he began flinging it in the direction of both Isabel and Maria. Kyle joined in. Michael walked over to the car, he reached in the trunk and popped open something to drink; however, even he was amused by the entertainment the night had to offer - only one person was noticeably absent from the festivities. But their dance never faltered in the midst of all the hyper activity surrounding them - it was like they were the only two people in the world. The images shifted, Max and Liz struggling like any young couple to maintain and upkeep an apartment - there were other memorable times, college graduations, Michael and Maria's unexpected marriage and even Alex and Isabel eventually tied the knot too. It appeared as if the pod-squad had finally succeeded in obtaining their normal existence after all but then the images shifted into ones that were more unpleasant. A volatile confrontation between Liz and Tess - Tess frantic, Max intervening, and Tess finally leaving for good. Neither Kyle nor Sheriff Valenti could stop or convince her to stay behind. Then there were flashes of various news reports warning of foreign invaders who had infiltrated government, private businesses, the news media etc. and while the term "alien" was never used - Liz knew exactly what it meant. Chaos in society had erupted - power plants shut down, gas and oil were no longer sold, and people were forced out of their jobs - martial law was finally enacted. Families were pulled from their homes, forced apart, and placed in work camps. Disease was running rampid - contaminants of the like that had never been seen before. Humans were killed on the streets if out past curfew, many were forced underground just as Max, Liz, and the others had been. The sickening images of war and destruction by an intellectually and technologically advanced race flashed quickly by. There were others from this race who did not support the war; however, training and preparing the remaining Royal Four proved to be a difficult feat if not next to impossible. The training was coming too late, time was not on their side and they lacked the bond - the connection needed to bring them to their full potential. The most troubling prospect of all, they were one man short. Tess's loyalties had shifted to the other camp and without her - the Four Square was incomplete. Max must have begun to fast-forward the images with his mind because suddenly, the pictures were flashing at full speed ahead until he reached what he sought to see. The truth, the knowledge behind everything that had led to those prior events and the purpose behind their existence on this planet they had come to know and accept as home:
The key to defeating Khi'var and his followers lie in the power formation of the Four Square - a power structure dependent upon the physical cementing and soul bonding of each pairing in the group.
Max felt his heart sink. Finally, the next image sprang to life.
Future Max and Future Liz.
They stood in the Granolith chamber - all hope was lost, Michael was gone as was Isabel from two weeks before. The truth was inevitable, to spare earth - to spare all the lives lost both human and non-human; their sacrifice was vital - pivotal in the grand scheme of things. They would only get this one shot to change things.
Max witnessed in sorrow as his future counterpart bid his version of Liz good-bye. It was the last time they would ever see each other.
The images shifted to a more familiar scenery. A balcony, Liz's swaying curtains hanging around her bedroom window. A man, clad in a vest, pair of dark jeans, and leather boots flashed into existence startling a young and surprised Liz. This future version of him made contact with her, he could see and hear the conversation taking place as clearly as if he were experiencing it himself first hand but worst of all - he could feel Liz's heart breaking. Each confirmation that passed from his counterpart's lips was like another knife jabbing into Liz; however, she refused to break. She would do what he asked - she would give in even if it killed her on the inside to do so.
It was the right thing to do.
He relived her numerous attempts to try and push him away, encounters that ate away at his soul with each passing rejection. Then, finally, the dreadful moment. The big set-up, Kyle agreeing to help but not for the reasons he initially believed. He could feel it, he - himself, his future self was also on-board with this plan. He saw himself approach the balcony, climb upwards, and finally encounter the worst sight of his life. He felt his own pain, combined with the devastating pain coarsing through Liz, at the same time. Lastly, he witnessed the final dance taking place on the balcony just before his future counterpart disappeared like a wisp in the breeze. However, it was at this moment that something more shocking occurred. The moment that his future self vanished in the flashes - he felt that consciousness mix with his current one.
He broke contact with the crystal and Liz repeated the action.
Their surprised expressions met with each other.
"I asked you to do this," his voice was full of sorrow.
It was in this moment that both of them truly understood the consequences of destiny being ignored.
(Flashback Ends)
"I asked you to do this. I asked you to do this," she mumbled over and over.
"Liz? Liz?" somebody called her name from somewhere.
"No, I asked you to do this," she repeated once again, answering to the call of her name with the same words from before.
"Liz, wake up?!" the voice gently pleaded. "You're talking in your sleep."
Liz rolled over, still half immersed inside the dream she found herself in. A dream about the past. Slowly, her eyes opened and her current surroundings came into complete focus. Matthew was standing above her.
"What happened?" she sat up, sounding half-awake. She shoved the blanket, that she didn't recall using to cover herself, aside.
"You fell asleep. By the time I got back with the coffee, you were already out like a light," Matthew smirked at her. "I just threw the blanket over you and decided to let you rest. You looked like you needed it."
"Oh?!" she brought her hand to her head - "I'm sorry. Wow, talk about being a rude house guest?" she cracked. Liz shifted her feet over to the floor and lounged back against the couch in a more comfortable sitting position.
"It's fine. But what was all that talk about asking someone to do something?"
"I don't know. Do you know what time it is?"
"Just a little after ten," he answered back.
"Wow, I slept over an hour?" the surprise in her voice was amusing to him.
"Yeah, but no worries. I charge by the minute not the hour." He got a warm smile out of her and then narrowed his eyes at her playfully. "And I'm going to take a guess that you could probably use that coffee right about now."
"Would you?" scrunching up her nose while shrugging back, feeling a little embarrassed with putting him out like this. "Sorry."
He smiled. "Not a problem. That's what coffee makers are for," he patted her knee in a friendly manner before he turned to leave.
Liz smiled as she watched him leave to the kitchen; however, a sudden rush of panic overtook her when she remembered her journal. Quickly, she began a desperate search in trying to locate it when her eyes landed on the armchair just a couple of spaces away. There, laying sprawled out on the cushion, was her journal along with her cell phone. The keys to her place were found just on top of them. With a huge sigh of relief, Liz decided it was time to give her paranoia the rest of the night off.
-X-
Maria was extremely nervous.
She just couldn't help it - her encounter with Michael left her feeling on edge in a way she hadn't felt since finding out about the cancer that was slowly ravaging her entire body, bit by bit. Sitting on the edge of her seat at the kitchen table, her anxiousness revealed itself in the form of rocking - as the legs on her chair found themselves lifted up into the air right before meeting the floor again with a succession of crashing bangs. The assault against her nails was evident too - her nails showing the clear signs of biting inflicted upon them. Her mind went over the entire incident today, what it meant for her life now, and how she was going to break the news to Tyler that he was being pulled into a world he was oblivious to simply because of his association with her. Beth was okay, thank god - and she was relieved to come back home and find that Christopher and the babysitter were in no immediate danger. Her husband would be home soon - it was late, just after one in the morning.
"Hey," Tyler greeted as he walked into the kitchen. He sounded a bit tired, resigned, not unusual for him after a long hard day at work.
And he was home early tonight.
"Hey?!" her voice sounded a bit surprised at the unexpected arrival. "You're early?"
"Yup. Thomas told me to take a break. Said he'd close up shop for tonight," he tried to make light with a tired smile. "He said the back office could do without me for a few hours. The bands we have contracted for the month are set. Jose's working the bar and inventory isn't even scheduled until next week," he listed off, relaying the information to her. "I was just trying to get a head start on it in case you needed me at the hospital."
"Right," she acknowledged distantly.
Tyler owned a small booming nightclub in the heart of downtown Manhattan. His working hours had always varied from the time it had first opened up; however, after Maria fell sick - he did his best to create a rotating schedule to allow him enough consistent access to Maria when she needed to go in for her treatments or for when his presence was needed for their kids because she couldn't there. After his own failed attempts on the road to live out his own dreams through his music, running the club had become the next best thing to actually writing and performing his own. He lived for the music - he'd often stay and watch and listen to the various groups who passed through his own establishment, reliving the moment time and time again. Things may not have panned out exactly how he had pictured for himself but he could never bring himself to regret it either. After all, the path taken had brought him to his wife - to Maria. She and the kids were his world now.
The chair rocking ceased and Maria quickly scrambled to organize her scattered thoughts. She was so lost in those thoughts she hadn't even heard the front door open or close. He sailed over to the fridge - grabbing for a cold beverage. Snapping the lid open, he brought it to his mouth taking a gulp; however, upon catching the forlorn look his wife was throwing his way he immediately picked up that something was wrong. Bringing the soda can back down, he sauntered over towards the table.
"Something wrong?" he ventured, a slight laugh flowed with the words as he tried to spark a little lightness in the serious atmosphere surrounding them. "I mean, other than the ordinary. Because I know you always handle the treatments like a pro." He always tried to boost her morale since it was just as essential, if not more, to the healing process. "So, then I take it, something else is amiss. Wait a minute, don't tell me," he mocked in a teasing fashion, a grin crossing his face - his handsome features coming to life more fully. "Let me guess. They're splitting up Bo and Hope again on Days of Our Lives?! I'm right, aren't I?!"
"I didn't watch TV at all today. So, Bo and Hope are the least of my worries, believe me. In fact, I didn't even make it on time for my treatment." Her response was barely audible and Tyler had to strain to hear.
"Why not?" he sounded concerned. Then, casting his glance downwards as he neared the kitchen table, he caught sight of the packed duffel bags. "Uh, or maybe I should be asking - going somewhere?"
His inquiry was met with nothing but a guilty silence.
"Okay, Maria. What's going on here?" he sighed, placing the soda can on the table.
All light-hearted banter was put to the side. A serious expression now graced his face. A heavy sigh escaped from her next.
"Yeah, actually, we are," she admitted, looking down and playing with her fingers. "Going somewhere that is. And I hope after you listen to everything I need to tell you - you'll be coming with us."
"Where?" he shook his head, confusion plain in his expression. "Does this have anything to do with hearing from your brother?! Is something wrong - did something happen to ..." he attempted to finish his thought but was cut off.
"It has nothing to do with Kyle," she quickly refuted. "Or - it kind of does," she reflected on second thought, "but not in any way you might think."
"Okay." There was a slight pause. "So then I guess that means you must be going back home to see Jim and your mom?" Tyler drew out the sentence slowly. "Right?"
"Not exactly," she breathed out.
"Not exactly," he repeated, the anger beginning to show. "Maria, where the hell do you think you're taking off to this late?" he demanded to know.
"Somewhere safe and before you bite my damn head off I just really need for you to hear me out, okay? No yelling, just listening."
His crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm listening."
"Maybe you want to sit down?!" she advised him.
"No, I don't think so - I'm fine right where I am," he shook his head. "Maria, quit stalling and tell me - what's all this about?" he pushed, not liking how she was acting. It didn't sound like this was good.
"I just need to get away for awhile," she opened up in a vague manner - struggling with how to broach the topic.
He threw his hands up in the air. "Are you leaving me?" he sounded astonished, the disbelief saturating his tone. "Because ..."
"NO!" her voice was loud and firm. Her eyes bulged. "That's not it!"
"Then what the hell is it?!"
Finally, he moved - yanking a chair away from the table and slamming it in front of her. He sat across it, arms stretched over the top.
"Maria, you're in the middle of chemotherapy treatment. You just can't up and leave to god knows - wherever you feel like," his tone rose. "And you sure as hell aren't just up and leaving this late at night with my kids, our kids, Maria," he stressed, "not without giving me a good goddamn reason for it! And so far I haven't heard one!"
He was face-to-face with her now.
The intensity of his stare broke her almost instantly - her eyes were already watering beyond the point of no return. To his surprise, she reached out to him and gently cupped the side of his face with her palm. "I'm so sorry," her voice quivered, breaking with the emotion-filled sobs entangled with the words. "I'm so sorry for bringing you into this," her apology was lost on him as he reached up to grab for her hand, placing a gentle kiss against the back of it. "I never meant to, I need for you to believe that."
Tyler reached over and held the sides of her head. He leaned over and kissed the top of her forehead. "Maria, babe, you're not making very much sense right now."
"No, you don't get it. I never meant to lie to you, to keep things from you but Liz and I swore that we'd put it all behind us. We wanted to leave it there but then Liz ... Liz" Maria stumbled over her own words, "Liz couldn't anymore. She couldn't ... she - she," the stuttering continued as Maria tried to forcefully calm herself down.
Maria was an emotional roller-coaster at this point and Tyler accepted that he really didn't have much choice at this point except to ride through it with her. He just nodded his head as he listened and tried to comprehend the meaning behind the fragments making up her sentences.
"Liz couldn't. Couldn't what, Maria?"
Maria closed her eyes - taking some deep breaths. While she was still visibly emotional, engaging in the breathing exercises helping to at least calm her to a point where she could make herself understandable. "Liz is different."
"Okay. How is Liz different?"
"There was a guy."
"A guy?" Tyler pushed, watching her closely and listening intently.
She reopened her eyes. "A guy," she nodded her head to reaffirm it. "Back home, in high school. His name was Max. Max Evans. He was cute, at least most of the girls thought so," Maria smirked, remembering - "but he was quiet and he pretty much kept to himself," she shared.
Tyler waited for her to continue.
"We worked in her family's restaurant back in Roswell, Liz and I. But there was this one day that a customer brought in a gun and a fight broke out. Liz got shot. It was during our sophomore year of high school."
A look of genuine surprise covered her husband's face.
"Nothing has been the same since," Maria sounded far off.
"Maria, honey," he tried to sound as supportive as possible. "As horrible as it is to hear that that happened to Liz, I'm not following how this has anything to do with what's going on right now. How does Liz play into why you're leaving?"
"It matters because Liz would be dead right now. It's only because of Max that she isn't."
"Okay," Tyler whistled out, trying to remain patient.
"Max was different, Tyler. And when I say Liz is alive because of him - I mean that literally. But he wasn't the only one. There were others like him. He had a sister." There was a small pause. "And there was Michael."
"Michael?" his eyes narrowed just a bit.
"Michael, Max, and Isabel stuck together. I mean, alot of the other kids thought it was pretty weird - they never let anyone get close to them. It was just the three of them for such a long time but after what happened to Liz, Michael and I did get the chance to become close," the last part came out a bit awkwardly as her hands played with the hem at the end of her sleeves.
Tyler threw her a look. "Meaning - the two of you dated?!" he drew out the sentence.
"We did," she nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable delving into her past relationship with Michael. "For a little while."
"Okay, look," his eyes drifted, breaking eye contact "putting the jealous husband kick aside for the moment - I'm assuming he actually meant something to you," he pushed, forcing himself to handle details from his wife's past with another man. "Don't tell me you're leaving me for him or something?" he tried to make light of the information.
"No, but he did show up today," her tone was dead serious. Seeing the facial reaction, Maria immediately put up her hand to quickly put his fears to rest. "But not because of any relationship we may or may not have had in the past."
Tyler bolted up from the chair. "Then mind telling me why he would suddenly be showing up here out of the blue? My god, Maria, high school was like what - ten years ago."
"He's here because he wants to make sure we're safe. Beth almost got taken today," she dropped the bombshell that sent Tyler over the edge.
"Beth almost got ... What the hell are you talking about, Maria?! And why the hell wasn't I called?!" he demanded to know.
"I mean, somebody came after her - but listen, it had nothing to do with her. It was just them using her to get to me, to get to Michael and the others," her voice took on a defensive edge of it's own. "And there was nothing you could do about it, believe me," she stressed the point, desperate for him to grasp that truth. "She's safe now - Michael was there to help and that's all that matters." She nodded her head in the direction of the bedrooms. "They're both asleep on her bed, I checked on them about fifteen minutes ago."
"Well, did you call the police?"
A sardonic laugh flowed out of Maria. She couldn't help it, her instinctive response wasn't intended to mock her husband in any way but if he had lived through what she had during her earlier years or knew anything of the secrets that the universe kept hidden in the night - Tyler would understand the absurdity lying behind such a suggestion.
"Did I call the police?" she mimicked. "Uh, no, Ty - I didn't because to tell you the truth, this problem was a little bit out of their jurisdiction."
Not in the mood for anymore game playing, Tyler bolted for the cordless phone on the counter without saying another word. Maria, catching onto this movements, instantly lept up from the chair intent on stopping him.
"Tyler, no, what are you doing?" She struggled to reach around him to grab for the phone he now held in his hand. His back was to her.
"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" he mocked her. "I'm making a report on this. For god sake's, what's wrong with you, Maria? What if this lunatic followed you home or worse - what if he goes back after Beth again?"
"No, you can't report this!" she cried out desperately.
"Why the fuck not? Right now I'd say it's a hell of alot better than your plan which is running away in the middle of the night to god knows where!" his gaze flew straight back to the bags sitting on the floor. "It can happen again - I'm not taking that chance!"
"Not if we leave with Michael!"
"Michael?!" his brows arched incredulously. "Okay, Maria, I don't know what the hell is going on here with you but you're acting crazy. I'm not letting you run off with my kids, let alone with some guy," he spat,"without any clue as to where that place might be. And certainly not with a guy that I don't even know."
"Tyler, look, I'm begging you - please hang up the phone!" her anxious voice pleaded.
He ignored her. His fingers began the dialing. He brought the phone up against his ear. Maria swung herself around, pulling out the counter drawer and quickly produced the communicator that Michael had let her borrow in case of any emergency. It was also to be used to get in touch with him when they were prepared to leave.
"This is why you can't call, okay?!" she revealed in an anxious manner. "Because Michael and the others aren't from around here, Tyler! And neither are the people that came after Beth at school today. They're aliens and this right here," the device sparked, "is a communicator that Michael left with me to get in touch with him."
Tyler's expression was frozen, on it - his eyes widening in shock, his feelings of confusion only deepening.
"911, what's your emergency?!" the voice carried through the receiver.
"No, sorry, my mistake - no emergency."
He hung up the phone.
______________________________
To Be Continued: Feedback - Good, bad, okay? Once again, sorry for the long wait - everything just seems to be happening all at once.
Wow, thanks for that awesome feedback guys - dreamon, begonia9508, MP, LilLoucfer, and keepsmiling7. Glad you all decided to give my first Roswell fan-fiction a chance.
Yes, the little girl named Claudia from 1947 - is Liz's grandma Claudia from the show. You'll find out, and this isn't really that big of a secret or anything lol, that Charlotte is actually the aunt from Florida that Liz visited with during that summer after the first season. There's a connection there between Charlotte's story and Liz's story but I can't say anything else, hehe.
I'm really happy that my story caught your interest. Hopefully, it will continue to interest you and you'll decide to keep reading.