Roswell Fanatics

Author. Clash868
Title. The Ballad of a Bullet
Pairing. Liz/Max, a little Liz/Other
Disclaimer. I do not own these characters. Don't sue me.
Rating. Adult

A/N. It's been a while and I have wandered but now I'm back! Most importantly, I've extensively reworked this story (chapters have been rewritten, moved or excised all together) so you might want to start from the beginning. If that's not something you're willing to do, start from chapter nine, you'll pick up anything else I might've changed along the way. I will be updating every weekend, if you have a preference for Saturday or Sunday, drop me a line because I'm still trying to decide. I hope you all enjoy the brand new chapter and reply!

PS: For the newbies, there's a lot of talk of religion and quite a bit of violence (Liz... Poor, poor Liz). You've been warned.




"You believe in damnation?"

Maxwell Evans startled at the voice, raised his head quickly and pulled out his head phones, "Excuse me?"

The small pale girl, virtually being swallowed by her white hospital gown, moved forward slowly and picked up the chain around his neck, "You believe in a God who would create a human being in his image only to send them to suffer for all eternity?"

He swallowed, trying not to stare at the thick white bandages surrounding her wrists, and pulled the crucifix from her hand gently, stuffing it back into his crisp white shirt, "I believe that God gave us free will and we'll all suffer or prosper by the decisions we make"

"What if we don't have a choice," she asked quietly and he found himself transfixed by the look in her liquid brown eyes.

"There's always a choice."

He watched her watch him as she slowly backed out of the room, standing only on the balls of her feet, and disappeared around the corner.

Thinking back on it now, that's when he'd become obsessed, the first moment he set eyes on her sickly, tired frame.

The first time he ever saw her tortured face.

Elizabeth Parker.

-

"Do you know why you tried to hurt yourself Miss Parker?"

Liz chewed the side of her thumb and sighed loudly before dropping her hands into her lap, "I didn't try to hurt myself Dr. Culling. I was trying to kill myself, there's a difference."

He raised his eyebrows at that and started scribbling more on the yellow notepad in front of him, "Why were you trying to kill yourself then?"

She crossed her arms over chest and settled back into the comfy armchair she was sitting in, "Because I'm schizoid?"

"It's schizophrenic."

"Schizoid or schizophrenic they both mean crazy."

"You're not crazy, you're ill," he raised his face and readjusted his glasses, "Why haven't you been taking your medication?"

"It wasn't helping. I was still waking up in places I've never been to with no idea how I got there and they made me feel sick, they made me feel crazier if you can believe that, so I stopped."

He nodded absently, "Your chart says that you," he picked the file up and started reading, "hear the voice of a man telling you to find someone or the world will end by this time next year."

She sunk farther back into the chair, "Well when you read it out loud like that…"

"I know that those hallucinations seem real," he cut in, "but you know they aren't right?"

"Of course," she replied after a slight hesitation.

"And you only have auditory hallucinations and lost time right?"

"Those are enough aren't they," she replied under her breath as he eyed her over the rim of his glasses and started furiously writing once again.

"How often do you have them?"

"The auditory ones are pretty regular," though she hadn't had one since she'd gotten here and not wanting to jinx it, she kept quiet, "the lost time is less frequent."

"That's interesting," he muttered, "you're still able to experience pleasure, speak normally, no delusions correct?"

She nodded, waited a beat "Are you going to make me start taking my meds again?"

"Not yet, no," he said softly, "I want to observe you for a while. Then I'll decide what to do from there."

He smiled at her and looked at the clock, "Your hours up Miss Parker. I'll see you again this time the day

after tomorrow?"

"I don't have anywhere else to be."

"Alright then," he replied, no longer really listening. "See you then."

-

Liz sat on the couch in the rec room and pretended to watch The Price is Right while the shaggy haired brunette orderly she'd spoken to earlier pretended to clean up the tables after lunch; he'd been wiping down the same spot for at least 10 minutes now.

"What's your name," she slurred slightly, the pills she'd just been given making her slightly drowsy.

He furtively looked from side to side before answering, "Max. What's yours?"

"Liz."

He started to blush and she realized she was staring but couldn't seem to make herself stop and was on her feet and standing next to him before she could think better of it.

She reached her hand out slowly; letting it flutter next to his skin, never really touching, "Your face." she said softly, more to herself than to him, "there's something..."

"Maxwell…"

Her hand retracted so quickly it was a blur and she was out of the room before who ever had walked in could finish their sentence.

Michael looked at his friends red face and the back of the girls, the patients, head as she quickly left the room, "What was that?"

Max shrugged and started wiping the table again, willing his heart beat to slow down, "Nothing, we were just talking."

"Well don't talk. You work here and she's a patient."

"I know that," he replied tightly.

"If you ever did anything bad it would fall back on me because I recommended you…"

"I know," he cut in, feeling regretful that he'd taken this job at all. "I would never do anything that could jeopardize this for you."

He watched Michael start to soften.

"We were really just talking."

He nodded and came toward him, "I came to help you finish up so we could leave early."

"Oh yeah," he replied, faux enthusiasm on full display, "my date with Pam."

"I know," Michael said, his sympathy evident, "but I really want to go out with Maria and she wouldn't agree unless you came along with Pam. On the bright side though," he added, nudging him with an elbow and a sly look, "She's a sure thing."

Max grimaced, "you know I'm not…"

"It was just a joke," he spoke over him, "I know you don't."

They worked quietly until Michael broke the silence again. "How can you not though? I mean sex is…" Max watched him smile in wonder, "awesome."

He grinned at his friend, "it's easy, I just say to myself, 'I'm not having sex until I'm married' and then I don't have sex till I'm married. But," he replied, some wonder creeping into his own voice, "I'm sure it is amazing though."

"It really is."

"I heard you the first time," he countered with a laugh.

-

Liz ran into the empty hall right off the T.V. room when Max and Michael exited laughing. She watched them walk down the hall then ran back into the rec room to look down onto the parking lot and watch them drive away.

Thinking back on it now, she should have known.

Known why the voices stopped.

Why she felt healthier in her one day there than she had since she turned 13 and the voices started.

Should've known who he really was.

That beautiful dark haired orderly.

Maxwell Evans.

He watched her sometimes.

When he should've been fixing the beds or mopping the floor, he'd watch her with the other patients during their group sessions, when they walked the grounds, when she'd look out the window like she'd do anything to be anywhere else.

He'd watch her.

He thought about her sometimes too.

When he was in chemistry class, when he was driving home from school, sometimes when he was in bed at night and couldn't fight away the memory of her face. He'd clutch the crucifix beneath his shirt and pray for the strength he couldn't seem to conjure up on his own

Watched her then like he was watching her now.

It had only been a week since she'd come to the hospital but he already looked forward to seeing her every day, wondered what he would do when she eventually got released. The wind lifted up a piece of her hair and he felt the urge to ask her about last night. About how Michael had told him she had woken up screaming and needed to be drugged and tied down.

He wanted to ask her what happened and have her trust him enough to answer.

Instead, he contemplated going back into the building without alerting her to his presence but the twig beneath his left foot had different plans. She turned quickly and didn't relax when she saw it was him, stared for a moment before she turned back to the small ball of calico colored fur in front of her anyway.

"Hey Max."

He felt his heart kick up when she said his name but ignored it. He didn't need to be thinking of her in a heart racing type of way.

"Do the counselors know you're out here?"

She shook her head no and he watched her tear off a small piece of toast, today's breakfast, to feed to what he could now see was a small kitten. His training told him that she a self harmer and that he needed to get her back into the hospital, notify the guards that she finding her way out of the building and tell her counselors.

He moved closer to her instead.

She never stopped what she doing but he could see her tense a little, feel her paying close attention to him even though she was turned away.

"What's it's name?"

"Samantha."

"She's beautiful."

Liz turned toward him, finally, with a small smile. "Thank you."

She'd been looking a little healthier the past 4 days, a bit more color in her cheeks, a little more pep in her step but the girl before him today was the mirror image of the one he'd seen her fist day here. She looked sallow and emaciated but he just chalked it up to her bad night. Max kneeled down at her side, tried to stop looking at the profile of her face, "Are you from here?"

She nodded again. "Dubois."

"All the way out by Yellowstone," he replied before he could modulate his surprised tone. "That's practically on the other side of Wyoming."

She smiles a little though the upturn of her mouth is bitter. "Yeah, but I think that's why my parents liked this place."

He felt like maybe he should apologize but she broke the silence, "You?"

"Cheyenne."

"Big city boy."

He laughed, taken off guard by her sudden friendliness. "Yeah, it's home."

She sat Samantha down and watched her run off into some brush on the hospital grounds.

"Are you going to tell them?"

There was no inflection in her voice, no reason to believe she was worried about his answer but he knew she was anyway. He watched her for a moment, trying to decide between doing what he knew should be done and doing what he felt was right,

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid," he asked lowly.

"I swear," she turned to him quickly, the desperation in her voice obvious. "I won't do anything."

"Then I won't tell them but you have to be careful out here."

She nodded enthusiastically while smiling and he felt himself returning the gesture, realized he liked making her feel that way. "I'll walk you in."

-

"How did you control your hallucinations without your meds?"

Liz released the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. She expected him to question her about the incident that occurred last night but since he didn't, she pulled her legs up onto the chair and folded them beneath her. "Doesn't that file right there answer your question?"

"I don't want to learn about you from a file," Dr. Culling replied.

She ran her hand through her hair and rolled her eyes at that, deciding to be difficult. "What was it again?"

He looked at her over the top of his glasses and started scribbling on his yellow legal pad.

"And what are you writing in there," she questioned. Her annoyance starting to seep through.

He sat it down and folded his hands in his lap. "Let's make a deal. You answer my question and I'll let you see."

She narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest, "Really?"

"Yes, but not right now. I'll show you when I feel you're ready."

She sat back and sighed, trying to decide if she wanted to talk or not. With a shrug she began to speak. "I…," she squared her shoulders, sitting up taller. "When I first got…sick, I guess, I would hurt myself."

"Hurt yourself?"

"Isn't that what I just said," Liz spat out, suddenly angry that she was talking about this at all.

"What would you use?"

"Whatever was around." She responded with a nonchalance she didn't feel.

He nodded absently. "What was it about the cutting that helped?"

"The pain," she muttered. Not wanting to relive it but seeing no way around it.

"How did you become aware of that?"

She smiled uncomfortably. "My period actually, he was talking to me and I was freaking out then it started and he stopped. The thing was though," she leaned forward, "If I took pain pills the voices would come back. That's how I figured out that suffering was my savior…"

"Suffering was your savior," he cut in, waited a beat. "That's an interesting way to put it."

She leaned back again. "Well you know what I mean."

He didn't look as if he did but said, "Sure," anyway. "Go on."

She took a deep breath. "I could only hurt myself so much though, if I went too far it would lead to a blackout."

He nodded and she waited a moment before continuing. "Umm, I also tried drugs but when you're already hallucinating, dropping acid does not help."

"I can imagine," he said, smiling lightly. "Go on."

She let out a short bark of laughter and said, "I know right," before rubbing her hand across her forehead. "I mostly use sex though."

"As a coping mechanism?"

She nodded and looked out the window. "I was with one of my friends and I started freaking out once when I was about 15. The guy I was with, Alex was his name, he was trying to help me and I kissed him and…" she shrugged, "That's when I found out sex was my savior as well."

"What happened with him afterwards?"

"Badness," she smiled even though there was nothing funny about it. "He was such a great guy but I was not in a good place. He loved me and I couldn't handle it," she sighed. "I slept around on him a lot."

He nodded, "Why do you think you did that?"

She rubbed her temple, suddenly feeling tired. "He thought love could save me."

"… and you wanted to show him it couldn't."

"No," she said quickly. "It just happened. He wasn't always there when I needed it."

Dr. culling nodded but the small smile said he knew better and she looked away again. "Our times almost up but I want to talk to you about personifying your hallucinations."

She opened her mouth, then shut it, then said, "What do you mean? I don't do that."

"You call the voice 'he.' I want you to work to stop doing that. It's not healthy to think of the voice you hear as a separate being," he made sure she understood before he looked down at his watch. "Your times up; I'll see you again the day after tomorrow?"

She stood up and went to the door, shaken by what she had shared that day and what she hadn't. "I'll see you then."

-

Liz laid on her back in the grass out in the yard and stared straight up into the sun until all she could see were giant bursts of color. She fondled the bandages around her wrists and tried to ignore the healing itch that was begging for her to scratch.

"Ms. Parker?"

She sat up a little at the mention of her name and cupped her hand above her eyes to cut down on the glare. "Yes?"

"You have visitors."

With a smile, she got to her to her feet and started making her way to the visitors' center. The back of her mothers and fathers heads came into view and she stopped for a moment to smooth down her hair, straighten out her gown and take a breath before she stepped inside the cool building.

"Hey."

The two adults turned and got to their feet when they saw their daughter, pulled her into their arms and started speaking at once.

"How is it here…"

"Are you feeling better…"

"How's your therapist…"

Liz smiled and pulled away from them. "Let's sit down first okay?"

They looked at each other and spoke over some wavelength that only married people could tap into before each grabbed an arm and led her to the table they were seated at, them on one side and her on the other. They sat quietly and when she noticed her mother looking at the bandages on her wrists, she put her hands in her lap underneath the table.

"How have you guys been?"

"We miss you baby," her father said quietly with a genuine smile she decided to ignore.

"Yeah right."

"Liz…"

"It's okay," she said. "I know I've been a lot of trouble to you guys for the last couple of years. I'm sure you're enjoying the break."

Her mother reached across the table toward her daughter. "We just want you to get better so you can come home. The only way we would be happy with you being away is if you were going to college. We never wanted…this," she replied lowly indicating their surroundings.

Liz looked at her for a moment, feeling pin pricks of pain behind her eyes and reached up to grab her hand, "Mamma?"

Her father put his hand above hers and smiled. "Just wait Liz, this is the first step and before you know it, you'll be better. You'll be out of here and you'll get your diploma and you'll be on your way to college."

She looked at them and smiled and gave them the answers they wanted.

Yes, she was speaking to her therapist.

Yes she was feeling better.

Yes, she thought she would be out of this place soon.

She hugged them and kissed them and sent them on their way with a wide grin plastered to her face. Afraid to tell them that though she wasn't hearing the voice as regularly anymore, she could still feel it. Was beginning to think it was never going to leave and, the worst part, was hoping that it wouldn't. The voice, Larek, as he'd told her his name was last night, had been the one constant in her life.

As much as she hated him, as much as he drove her crazy as much as he made her ruin everything she touched, when she was alone in the world, he was there. When her friends began to stop speaking to her, when the town turned on her, when she listened to her parents fighting over what to do with her.

Larek, was there.

And when she didn't fight him, he would whisper softly in her ear.

She watched her parents retreating backs feeling empty.

Larek had finally said what she was supposed to do when she found him…found Zan.

Liz wanted to tell her parents that she wasn't getting better. That the hallucinations, though they'd left her alone for about a week, were back and more involved than they'd ever been. That she didn't think that she was going to make it out the other side alive this time.

Instead she smiled through the tears she let them believe were from happiness.

Smiled and waved goodbye.

Max sat on the sofa in the living room and considered his options.

His parents, Phillip and Dianne, were pushing hard for him to go to college then medical school. He liked medicine and thought that helping to heal others would be a worthy occupation to dedicate one's life to, but something held him back from committing to it.

-

Isabel leaned over him, amazement and confusion written on her face.

"He was bleeding all over just a second ago. How did you…

-

Max shook the memory away without even realizing its presence.

A teacher maybe?

He liked children and wouldn't mind being around them every day but that job wasn't his passion either.

He could go to the seminary, an idea he'd been toying with for awhile now. Fr. Johnson said every Sunday that when you felt the call to become a priest, to deny it would be tantamount to denying God himself but the thing was, Max didn't really feel called to it. He could join the clergy anyway, like it even, but that profession didn't feel like it was his mission in life.

That and his parents were distinctly uncomfortable with his spirituality.

When he turned 13 and started going to church, they thought it was a phase. Two atheists, one a psychiatrist and the other a lawyer, couldn't possibly raise a religious child when, from the day he was born, they'd taught him that faith was a crutch. That weak minded people used it to help them deal with their inevitable deaths. When they'd instilled their own values and beliefs in him from before he could talk. They thought it was a phase he would grow out of and every year that he didn't confused them more and more.

'Where did he get this from?' One would mutter under their breathe as he left to go to evening mass. 'Not from us,' the other would reply

"Max," his mother stuck her head around into the room and broke his train of thought.

"Yeah?"

"It's 7:30, you're going to be late for school."

"I thought you were making breakfast."

"New plan, get something on the way."

He smiled, recognizing the acrid scent of burnt toast drifting from the kitchen and hugged her as she smiled in surprise. Like most teenagers he'd stopped doing that around the age of eight and even though they had different ideas on just about everything, he still loved her and felt the need to let her know.

"You alright," she asked with a little smile.

"Yes. I'll see you later?"

She nodded and yelled bye as he exited the house and jumped into his black jeep. Normally, he would drive off without a backwards glance but this morning he hung back and looked at his home for a moment feeling the sudden need to memorize it; Every gutter, every window, how wide the porch was, how bright the white paint was.

He already knew all of these things like the back of his hand but something was willing him to look again, make sure he wasn't mistaken.

Something was shifting.

-

Isabel practically vibrated with unasked questions, "how did you…"

"I don't know,' he replied curtly, looking around to see if anyone else could've witnessed it. When, suddenly, he turned quickly and grabbed Isabel by the forearms, "You can't say anything about this."

She pouted and whined, "Why?"

The question stopped him short but he went on as if he was completely sure, "because I said so."

"But…"

"If you say anything I'll take it back."

She narrowed her eyes, suspicious, "You can't do that."

He wasn't sure one way or the other but he pretended he was, "I wasn't supposed to be able to do that in the first. Why wouldn't I be able to reverse it?"

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," he replied through clenched teeth. Horrified by what happened and needing to feel in control.

There was a beat of tension filled silence, "Fine whatever," she said quickly, pulling out of his grasp and bounding into the house."

-

He came back from the memory as winded and out of control as he'd been on that day. He had been thinking of it more and more often lately. For awhile, he'd almost convinced himself it had never happened. He would look at Isabel and see no hint of that day hidden in her features and he would think that maybe it was all a dream.

Moments like these reminded him that it wasn't.

He rubbed his face, heart beating hard in his chest, and tried to understand why he couldn't stop thinking about what happened suddenly. Why he felt like he was on the verge of losing everything he'd ever known. He thought back, tried to remember the first instant he started feeling like what happened was more than just the strange one off incident he had come to believe it had been.

When he had begun to see that maybe it was something more.

He closed his eyes, thinking hard, and sighed in frustration when he came up empty.

Max opened his eyes on the house before making himself turn away, feeling stupid. He was only dwelling on his past because this was his last year of high school. Soon, he would be moving away on his own, leaving his family and his friends and he was just nervous about it.

That's all.

Max smiled, shoving down the slight unease he felt and started the engine to pull out of the driveway.

-

"Hey man," Michael said and fell into a brisk walk beside him on his way to class . "Pam keeps asking me for you."

Max sighed, "It's been a week. She hasn't caught on yet," he asked sullenly. Feeling a little like a cad for avoiding her instead of just speaking with her but he didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings.

"Guess not but you gotta talk to her because Maria's getting on me about it."

Max nodded, "alright."

"See you at work tonight?"

"I'm off."

"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said and took a right.

Max hesitated a moment outside of the door to his science lab class and peeked around the corner, trying to spot a large mound of blonde hair and felt like a coward when he sighed in relief at its absence.

He took his seat quickly and vowed to himself that he would call her directly after school.

-

"Hey Max."

He started at the sudden sound of her voice and turned toward Pam as she sauntered over to him. He stuck his keys back into his pocket and leaned against the side of his jeep, waiting for her to come over. She stood in front of him for a moment and they looked at each other awkwardly before she broke her silence.

"Did you have fun the other night?"

He cleared his throat and denied the urge he felt to look away. "Yeah, you're a fun girl."

"That's what they tell me," she said with a smile and a flourish and he felt himself relaxing.

"Well you are."

"Why haven't you called me then?"

He thought for a second, trying to think of a good way to put this. "I just don't think we fit."

She didn't say anything, just raised her leg up onto the step on the side of his car and leaned forward, apparently to tie the strings of the boot she was wearing. He noticed then that she had on a short red stretchy dress that had risen up with her movement, exposing a large stretch of her inner thigh. His abdomen tightened and his breath quickened and his heart told him to look away but his dick told him to hold up a minute.

This was one of the rare moments when he followed his groin.

He looked at the exposed skin and imagined running the tips of his fingers along it from the thin skin at the back of her knee, to the softness of the infrequently shown inside of her thigh, to the damp heat between…

He cut that line of thought off before it could go any farther and looked up to see her watching him with a knowing smile. She stepped closer to him and he didn't move away, "but," and she lowered her gaze to the space between them before letting them meet his own again. "I think we were made to…fit."

A burst of red started to crawl out of the collar of Max's shirt toward his cheeks and he took a step back then, finally looking away. "That's not what I meant."

She giggled a little, "I saw you looking…"

"I'm human."

"I know," she said, softening her approach. "You couldn't help yourself."

He took a deep breath, trying to ignore how her voice was affecting him but Pam was right, he couldn't help himself. From the time he was a kid he'd always been a touchy person, a very tactile person; Always running the tips of his fingers across the back of a couch or the edge of a counter or along the fur lined hood of one of Isabel's jackets. As he'd gotten older and started going to church, he'd realized the feeling he got from giving into that particular pleasure had become almost…sexual and he'd stopped immediately.

The memory must have brought a look to his face because she pulled his hand toward her.

"You need it."

He opened his mouth to ask how she knew but she quieted him.

"There's no one around."

He looked up then and realized that the few cars that had been in the parking lot when he'd exited the school were now gone. He started to feel a little uneasy then, she didn't notice though, just pulled his hand down the front of her dress slowly. "No one will see us."

He was focused on the feel of the fabric beneath his hands when she spoke and broke the spell. He pulled away, breathless and angry at himself for letting this get as far as it had gotten. He felt a little guilty when Liz's face popped into his head before shaking it away with surprise. He didn't need to be thinking of her now or ever. She had nothing to do with his sudden lack of control.

Did she?

He started to think back then. To this morning, about that day in the woods, why this desire he had to put his hands on everything he could was so strong again lately and all of it went back to that day she'd been brought to the hospital.

The first day he'd seen her.

"Hello?"

Max dragged himself out of his thoughts to look a very annoyed Pam.

"I'm sorry, I was thinking."

She scoffed and placed her hands on her hips. "That figures! You shouldn't be thinking! I'm throwing myself at you and you're worried about chemistry class."

"I wasn't thinking about chemistry. I was thinking that I shouldn't be doing this."

"Touching me?"

"Anyone," because I won't be able to stop, he added silently, because something's wrong with me, because it's not you I want to put my hands on he continued, feeling a little desperate.

She watched him for a second before smiling, "come on," she replied quietly, reaching out for him but he grabbed her hand before it could make contact.

"No," he said firmly and her face fell at the determination in his voice. He tried to soften it a little as he went on. "You don't have to do this you know."

Her face tightened up, "excuse me?"

"I wasn't lying when I said that I had fun that night, you're a cool person. You don't have to do this." He motioned to their current position. "This won't get people to like you."

Even though it was the truth he knew he wasn't the person who should be telling it to her as soon as the words left his mouth. She pulled out of his grasp, red with fury.

"I didn't mean it like that," he tried to correct but it was already too late.

"There's only one meaning I could possible take from that. You think I'm a slut!"

"No," he said quickly, trying to calm her down and get her to understand. "I just think you're a little aggressive when you don't have to be."

He reached out to try and comfort her but she pulled away, ordered, "don't touch me," before stalking back across the parking lot to her car. He started to follow her but stopped short when he realized that he was probably the last person she'd want to speak to now so he stayed and watched to make sure she got in okay before getting into his own car and driving away.

-

Max sat straight up in bed at the sound of his phone ringing.

He breathed out and slumped over to check the time, 2:30 A.M. Feeling a little annoyed at being woken up he answered without looking to see who it was.

"This better be important."

"Pam is calling everyone and telling them you admitted to her that you're gay."

He rolled his eyes and slid down into a more comfortable position. "They've been saying that since Jr. High."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"There's nothing wrong with being gay."

"I know," Michael cut in, "but a lot of guys in school would be angry anyway and with what you believe…"

"I believe that I can make my own decisions about what's right and wrong and if the worst thing people can think up to say about me is that. Well I figure I'm pretty well off."

"Okay," his friend replied and Max could hear the smile in his voice. "I just wanted to give you the heads up that Mondays probably going to suck."

"Thanks," he murmured. "Did Maria tell you what happened" he asked, starting to nod off a little.

"No, Kyle called me. Remember I told you I worked tonight?"

The mention of their workplace focused his attention and sat up a little more. He found himself wanting to ask about Liz and almost did but decided against it. It would only make Michael suspicious of something that wasn't even happening. They were just friendly.

"So it's going alright?"

"Yeah but my lunch break is about to be over so I'll see you. Good night."

"Okay, goodnight," they hung up and he settled on his side slowly, feeling sleep trying to overcome him again but he fought it.

The thought of Liz made him think of the tentative connection he'd made between her and himself. The thought that a girl he had never met before these last two…

"Stop," he said out loud, finding the sound of his own voice strangely comforting as he started trying to settle in.

"She's just a patient, nothing more."

And with that, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

He'd tried to make himself stop but had given up even trying not to keep an eye on her by the third day. Max had been watching her for a week now. Since the incident with Pam and the hesitant connection he'd discovered between her appearance and the resurgence of his memories.

She'd been…furtive lately, pensive, and hyper aware. Her eyes followed every male face she came into contact with, searching every glance, every curve of every mouth looking for…something. He swept the floor slowly and looked at her standing at the window. If he hadn't been paying attention, maybe just walking past the rec-room on his way somewhere else, he might have mistaken her current position as restful. He would have squinted his eyes against the bright sun and thought the pale skinny girl with the cloud of dark hair floating around her head was contemplative, thoughtful even.

Max wasn't fooled though.

Her hands were balled into small fists, her mouth lay in a flat, tight line, her shoulders were stiff and filled with tension and if one were to come close enough, they would see her eyes. She wasn't simply gazing out into the Wyoming landscape.

She was searching.

She was always looking.

Always hunting.

He felt someone standing behind him and turned to see the suspicious face of one Michael Guerin. His friend's gaze bored into his own for a moment until he let it slide over to the object of Max's concentration. He rolled his eyes when he saw what direction Michael's look was going in, this accusation was already old and she hadn't even been a patient for a month yet.

"You're really making me wonder about you man," he said, slowly. Shook his head and placed a hand on the taller boys shoulder.

He hit it away none too gently. "What do you want?"

"Oh there's a scuffle on floor 3."

Max's eyes widened as he quickly started to make his way to the double door exit. "Why didn't you say something sooner!"

"It's just Sarah," he replied, moving to catch up. "She does this every week."

Max eyed him and Michael let out a short bark of laughter as they made their way out of the room and to the stairwell.

Liz never took her eyes away from the glass during the duration of their conversation and when he made his way back upstairs after 20 minutes of wrestling with a 75 year old woman, she was gone.

-

He happened upon her again 3 hours later when he was taking the trash out the back door and stopped in his tracks. She was holding the black metal bars that circled the entirety of the grounds and he wanted to leave her alone, even moved forward to do just that, but his eyes kept sliding toward her as if pulled by hooks. He couldn't leave.

He watched her hands slide up the bars slowly until they were at her eye level.

"Fuck!"

She said it so lowly, he wasn't even sure if she'd said anything at all until the bars started rattling and he noticed it was because she was shaking them.

"Fuck," she screamed louder this time, shaking them harder, putting her body into it.

He dropped the bag and took a step forward, planning to put an end to whatever was happening, but a perverse side of him, the same side that kept him watching her even though he had no business, wanted to see what she was doing and the only way to know was to let this play out.

She let the gate go and slapped her hands over her eyes, her breathing was ragged. She was shaking and he took another step toward her before stopping again, morbidly curious. She muttered something under her breath and he watched a hard shudder rack her body in response.

"Where are you," she murmured. Hands slipping into her hair, beginning to get frustrated, starting to pull and he was finally able to beat back his urge to just watch her and interfered.

Max pulled her hands away from her hair gently, cooing nonsense softly into her ear, trying to calm her down when her lids popped open suddenly.

He didn't move.

Not to check her for injuries or to give her space and definitely not to escort her back inside as he should have done. Nope, he did none of those things, just gazed into her face until her eyes slipped down to where he grasped her.

He dropped her limbs then, as quickly as if he'd put his hand to a hot stove, and backed away.

"Are you alright Elizabeth Parker?" He used her whole name to try and keep her grounded. He was also taught to place a hand on the patients shoulder but he wasn't sure if she would welcome such a gesture.

She didn't respond, just kept shaking.

"Elizab…"

"I heard you the first time," she said. Cutting him off and stepping back until she could lean against the fence and seeming more like herself again but she still trembled uncontrollably.

"Have you been taking your medication?"

"Of course," she replied quickly. "There's no way I couldn't."

He nodded and she turned away, her eyes going back toward the empty street.

The only way in.

The only way out.

"What are you looking for," he blurted out suddenly, the sudden trapped feeling making him uncomfortable.

She whipped back around and he took an involuntary step back. "What did you say?"

He hadn't meant to ask that question but now that it was out there he might as well repeat it. "I asked what it is that you're looking for."

She moved her mouth, getting ready to reply, when he went on. "I've been noticing that you're always looking out the windows lately. Memorizing the face of every guy that comes to the hospital and I was wondering why."

She was going to say something biting.

It was in the sarcastic curve at her lip, the narrowed eyes, the annoyed posture but before she said anything the venom left her and she sagged back against the gate again. Sighed before meeting his gaze with a small smile. "Would you believe me if I said I didn't know?"

He thought about for a second before saying, "Not really, "with a shake of his head.

The weary grin she was wearing turned into a full blown smirk at that. "He doesn't either."

"Who?"

But she was already looking away again.

He'd been dismissed but ignored it. "You're looking for Samantha then?"

"Who," she asked curiously.

"The little cat I saw you with."

"Oh," she said slowly. "is that what I was calling her?" He could hear the smile in her voice. "I rename her every time I see her because I forget," a beat of silence, "I've got a lot on my mind."

"I can imagine."

"No you can't," and the smile sounded more like a snarl this time.

"We need to go in now." He stated, ignoring her last sentence.

"Afraid I'm going to try and make a run for it?"

"I just can't leave you out here."

"You did last time."

"Well I'm not this time." There was a sharpness in his tone that he'd never had in any of their few previous conversations and that must have interested her because she turned back around and came toward him after a moment.

"What time is it?"

He looked down at the band around his left wrist. "1:30, you missed lunch."

She shrugged and made her way inside the building without him. He watched her back until she turned a corner and left his sight.

-

"Tell me more about Larek."

Liz was really starting to regret telling Dr. Culling more about The Voice but she'd needed to talk to someone and he'd been there and…she was weak.

As weak as Larek had always said she was.

He'd hurt her if he knew she was talking about their conversations to someone else but, as far as she knew, he was still in the dark. If he even suspected something was up, he would have come back by now and they hadn't spoken since he told her about Zan. That was the funny the thing about their little relationship. He could take over her body, put his words in her mouth, make her bleed, drive her insane… but he couldn't read her thoughts.

Thank God for small favors.

"Are you listening to me Elizabeth?"

"Of course," she said quickly, sitting up taller. "Could you repeat it anyway though?"

He narrowed his eyes and started writing on her nemesis, the yellow legal pad, again.

"And when are you going to let me read that thing anyway? You said you would forever ago."

"When I feel like you're ready," he replied offhandedly. "Tell me more about Zan and Larek and the end of the world."

He hadn't put any mocking inflection into the tone of his voice but every time he brought that up she felt herself getting smaller and smaller. "I thought you told me to stop calling them that because it allowed me to separate them from myself when, in fact, they're all just pieces of my own personality.

"Wow, you remembered every word," he stated with a genuine grin.

"I try."

"I know what I told you, and it's still right, I just want to try and find out why you felt you needed them."

She rubbed her temple. "I've never spoken to Zan. He's the man Larek has got me trying to find."

Dr. Culling nodded. "How do you know Zan's a guy?"

Liz scrunched her face in confusion, "Huh?"

"You just said Zan was a guy that you were looking for. How do you know he's a man?"

She opened and closed her mouth several times looking for the right words. "Zan sounds masculine to me," she was starting to feel a little defensive even though she didn't really understand why. "Doesn't it sound like a guys name to you?"

"Who's Larek?"

She felt like her head was spinning. "What?"

"Who's Larek? Where's he from?"

"He's the voice that speaks to me. He's from…"

"Where?"

"Outer space right," he filled in for her when she didn't answer.

"That's what you said when you were admitted."

He flipped backward through the notepad. "I hear a voice. I think he's an alien."

"Well," she replied softly after a moment, feeling embarrassed as she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the comfortable leather of her chair. "You guys had me pretty drugged up that day."

"Are you saying he's not then?"

"I'm asking why you're being such an asshole!"

There was quiet for a stretch until he spoke up. "I'm being your doctor. These sessions aren't about you making wisecracks four days out of the week and every now and then discussing the reason that you're here. They're about getting you better and that'll never start until you begin talking to me about things that actually matter."

She stared at him. "Yeah," she squeezed her hands, "he's from outer space."

"Did he tell you Zan's gender?"

She rolled her eyes, angry that he had come up with something she had never even thought of, something that was going to set her even further back. "No."

"Why do you think he wouldn't tell you that?"

She laughed and tried to fight back the sudden burning in her eyes. "He likes to fuck with me?"

"Or maybe you just wanted to make this harder on yourself."

She didn't say anything so he went on.

"Did this Larek give you any description at all? Hair color? Eye color? Ethnicity?"

She narrowed her eyes, wondering why she hadn't thought to wonder about this before. "He told me his name," she responded, louder than she'd intended to.

"Well then how are you supposed to find this person? Zan could literally be anyone. He could be me. He could be you."

She felt herself beginning to shake again. That crazy out of control feeling that she'd had earlier was consuming her now. Burning the back of her throat and eyes, making her heart beat out of control.

"Do you think it's possible that you gave yourself a task that was impossible to complete?"

She didn't say anything, didn't even look up from her quivering hands.

"I'm not trying to tell you you're crazy," he leaned forward, trying to gain her trust, "you're not. These voices are real! The issue comes in when you begin to believe that their owner is external to yourself. Do you understand?"

When she didn't reply, he again went on. "How was your home life Liz?"

She sighed, happy he was changing the subject. "When this first started happening?"

He nodded.

She frowned. "I know what you're implying but it was good. No one had ever beaten me, molested me or ignored me. They love me."

He cracked his knuckles and looked up at the clock. "Your sessions over."

She stood quickly, getting ready to try and make a quick exit.

"I'm putting you back on an antipsychotic."

She turned toward him with wild eyes. "Why?"

"Because you're having delusions, you're apathetic and you're having auditory hallucinations. These are all signs of schizophrenia and I want to help you. These medications work, I'm putting you on Haldol."

"Dr…"

"Good night," he cut in.

-

Liz sat on her bed later that night and concentrated on relaxing her throat as she leaned forward and the small pill slipped free.

Just like Larek said it would.

It fell into the dip of fabric between her knees and she looked down at it for a second. His instructions had been clear the last time he spoke to her.

"…after you cough the pill up, crush it under the hell of your shoe, the leg of a piece of furniture or whatever you have available and scatter it around. The next day, maintenance will come to your room and sweep it up. Do it every day, act normal, don't mention me or anything I've told you to anyone and you'll be free before you know it. Humans are probably the most stupid of the highly evolved beings."

She remembered being able to feel how disgusted he was even saying the word human.

"They'll believe you're better because they'll want to and then we can really search for Zan."

She came back to the present with a hard thud and thought back over the conversation she'd had with Dr. Culling; How Larek hadn't tried to help her narrow down the search even though he'd been pushing her to find this guy for four years. She wondered why she had never thought to find a way to ask him who she was looking for when that should have been her first question.

"Or maybe you just wanted to make this harder on yourself…"

She narrowed her eyes and thought maybe he hadn't given her a description because he didn't know. Liz looked down at the pill again and only hesitated once before putting it back into her mouth and swallowing it dry.

She could feel him pushing at the edges of her consciousness sometimes.

Not him, her own thoughts or whatever the fuck Larek was impersonating. She could feel it pushing against her, wanting in, but prescribed drugs did the same thing she'd been using street drugs and sex to accomplish. They kept the thoughts out. Liz walked into Dr. Cullings office with a smile and flopped down onto his chaise. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he replied with a smile. "Have you been experiencing any side effects?"

"Not since the other day."

"That's good news. Have you been hearing any voices?"

"No, but I haven't for awhile."

"Even before the new dosage?"

"Yes, but it's helping me calm down a lot."

He nodded and wrote something down. "Now that we've got that part of the equation solved, we can begin on sorting out this part."

She leaned back with a satisfied smile, "let's get to it."

If someone would have told her a week ago that she would be willingly taking antipsychotics and talking to her therapist about things she'd promised to never share with anyone, Liz would have thought they were the crazy one. She smiled at the thought and exited his office while looking at the stairwell that would lead her to the rec-room with disdain.

She had to have played every game in that room at least three times already and since it was only 11 there were only soap operas on T.V. She stood still and looked to each side of herself slyly and, when she saw the way was clear, slipped out the back entrance undetected.

-

"I'm not sure you should be working there."

Max sighed into his oatmeal before looking up. "What do you mean?"

He watched her struggle to find the right words but offered no assistance; he already knew what she was going to say.

"It's just all those…unstable people. Something might happen to you that doesn't need to."

"Nothing's going to happen to me and those people are there to get better."

"Yes and your presence or absence won't make a difference in their healing."

He rolled his eyes and looked away.

"I'm just telling you to think about it."

"You never worried before."

"I've always worried, I just didn't say anything."

He sighed, "I need this job to make money mom."

"Your father and I need to make money. You need to do well in school and get a scholarship."

"I don't want to have to beg you for money every time I want to buy something."

"We would give you an allowance."

"I don't need an allowance," he scoffed. "I'm going to keep working." She looked away and he lowered his voice.

"I promise everything will be alright."

Michael's car horn sounded from the driveway and Max stood quickly, pecking his mother on the cheek. "I'll see you tonight?"

She nodded absently and he ran out to meet his friend, jumping in the passenger seat.

"What took you so long," he grumbled.

"I only took a minute," Max replied with a grin. "My mom was trying to talk me into quitting."

"Why?"

Michael had recently become emancipated from his adopted father, Hank, and sometimes Max envied him his freedom though he would never give up his parents and sister. No matter how much they annoyed him.

"She's worried I'm going to get hurt."

"Oh, well that makes sense. What did you tell her?"

"That that's unlikely."

"It does happen though," he stated gently. "The guy who worked with me before you got jumped by a patient and got a concussion."

"Is he alright," Max asked, concerned and wondering why he hadn't been told this story sooner.

"He's fine, he just didn't want to have deal with any of that again. He works in some office now."

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I told you people get hurt sometimes!"

"You didn't say you knew someone who had though!"

"What difference does it make," he scoffed. "You needed a job and I helped get you one. Besides," he added after a moment, "if you didn't work there you may have never met Liz."

"Stop it," the warning, though gentle, was clear in his voice. Michael ignored it. "Come on, you've been there for over a month and she's the only patient I've ever seen you really having a conversation with."

"Mich…"

"We are in the safety of my car," he cut in. "You can tell me the truth. I know I give you shit about her but as long as you don't do anything, it's okay to think about it."

Max groaned, fighting between his need to talk and his desire to keep these feelings to himself.

"Come on" Michael coaxed, seeing his friends weakness. "Tell me."

"It's weird," he started, "I feel…"

"Oh God don't talk like that," his friend protested. "You sound like a girl."

"You asked!"

"You were supposed to talk about how hot she was or something, not how she makes you feel."

"But that's the thing. I feel a connection to her, or like I know her or something but I don't."

Michael narrowed his eyes but kept them on the road. "Are you sure?"

"She grew up in Dubois."

Michael whistled, "Very high class."

"I know! The closest I've been to that place is when I went camping in Yellowstone that time."

He nodded and Max went on, "Anyway, she just makes me feel…I don't know," he finished lamely.

"Well I'm just glad someone's catching your attention, even if it is a psycho."

Max turned on him quickly and Michael raised his free arm in supplication with an astonished laugh. "Alright, I won't talk about your girlfriend."

"She's not…"

"…Your girlfriend. I know."

They drove for a mile or two in silence and Max could feel his friend trying to work something out in his brain before he began to speak.

"Do you know what's wrong with her?"

"Huh?"

"Why she was committed."

He rubbed the side of his neck. "No, I never really felt like I could ask."

"Read her file."

"What," Max asked in disbelief.

"Stop acting so uptight, I said to read her file."

"How would I even be able to access that?"

"We have keys to every room in that building and the ones that we don't have access to, Sean does."

"That crack head?"

"I know, but I'm just saying. I could get you in if you wanted."

That dark part of him, the part that felt drawn to her, did want to see those files. He wanted to know everything about her, everything that had hurt her and led her to him. He wanted to know what had brought them together.

But he ignored it.

"I could never invade her privacy like that."

"I could read it and then tell you what it says."

He actually considered it for a moment before shooting it down. "No, but thanks anyway."

"Alright, tell me if you change your mind."

He pulled the car into a parking space and they both jumped out.

"I'll see you at lunch?"

Max thought for a minute, "I'll see," and they parted ways.

-

"Found what you were looking for?"

Liz let out a breathless shriek. "Jesus Christ Max Stop sneaking up on me!"

"I didn't mean to," he said with a smirk that implied otherwise. "I was just commenting. So have you?"

"No," she said after a moment and then laughed. "But I have found some very good drugs that make me forget what I was even looking in the first place."

He could tell she was making a joke but Max couldn't find it in himself to laugh. Something about her words just made him sad.

She cleared her throat and changed the subject. "I was trying to keep an eye out for Samantha though. I haven't seen her in a while."

They stopped talking and started poking around the grounds, "I hate these bushes," he muttered with an upturned lip.

"This place is kind of expensive. If I'm gonna pay all that money I want a lawn with greenery in the shape of spears."

He smiled, "I'm not sure what you just said makes actual sense."

"Well you're being paid to be here so whatever."

He turned toward her, and when he saw the smile on her face, grinned back. "Then I'll keep my opinion to myself."

"I think that would be a good idea."

This was…nice. He thought, trying to keep from looking at her, or asking why she was here, or wondering if she felt as connected to him as he did to her when his eyes wandered into the street and stopped on a small, furry bundle.

A small tri-colored one.

He wasn't sure if he'd made a sound or not when he saw it but Liz was suddenly standing right next to him with a concerned look on her face.

"What is it?"

He didn't say anything, just looked down and she felt a chill of warning as she mimicked his pose and tried to follow his line of sight.

"She probably just ran off somewhere, let's go back in."

But she wasn't listening, just scanned the street until he saw her eyes light on the object of his worry. "What is that?"

He started and scratched the side of his head, wondering how to proceed. "I'm not…"

"Just answer!"

"I can't really see it over here."

"Let's go out and see."

He looked down at her with wide eyes. "I can't let you out off of the grounds."

"Well you go then," she said, exasperated.

He started toward the gate before stopping and looking back at her. "Maybe we should just go in Liz. I'm sure she'll show up."

Liz took a breath. "I need you to go over there," she pointed at the object, "So you can tell me what that is." she was starting feel a little shaky, a little out of control and his hesitance in helping her was only exacerbating it. That cat was the only thing she had, the only thing that was hers to love and feed and take care of.

"Just go and see please," she asked, losing some steam. Her head was starting to pound, the pressure behind her eyes was starting to grow and, worse, she could feel him pushing again. Sensing weakness and trying to break through.

"I'm not su…"

"Just go check," she yelled, rubbing her temples.

He watched her, concerned and, maybe, starting to realize that she was just as sick as everyone else here. She didn't want him to think that about her, not when she wasn't like them, not when she was actually getting better, but she didn't have it in her to try and keep it together for him right now.

"Alright," he replied in a placating tone. "Just try to calm down."

Liz leaned against the fence, trying to steady her wildly beating heart and slow her breath as he looked around and took the key from his pocket, walking forward to unlock the gate. Liz grabbed the bars and pushed herself as close them as she could get, watching him make his way over to the object in the street.

"Is it her?"

He leaned down and gingerly touched it only to rear back when a loud meow erupted from its throat.

"Yes and she's a live," he yelled back, sounding happy. "She probably got grazed by a car but she's still breathing."

Liz reached her hands through the bars. "Bring her over here! Let me see her!"

She thought maybe it was better not to move her but by time she registered it, the words were already out of her mouth and she was already in Max's arms. He walked across the street and made his way back inside the gate, Liz grasping at him the whole time. "Let me hold her."

"No," he replied more sternly than what she was used to hearing from him. "Let's just lay her flat."

Liz didn't argue.

She watched him carry her to the back and lay the kitten out in the shadiest part of the yard. She sat down next to her, the tears that had only been threatening earlier were now slipping down her face.

"Max," she said, eyes glazing slightly at the amount of blood smeared across his uniform. "Will she be alright?"

He looked at her with sympathy and sat, holding her hand and saying nothing. Liz closed her eyes against what that silence meant. "No," she murmured. "You have to do something Max. You have to save her."

He felt useless. He couldn't hold her, he couldn't make her feel better and he couldn't save Samantha…

Isabel leaned over him, amazement and confusion written on her face.

"He was bleeding all over just a second ago. How did you…"

The memory danced along the edges of his consciousness but he pushed it back, tensing up. Even if he wanted to do that, he couldn't. The kittens cries were getting lower and Liz started rocking her, the tears coming faster.

"Do something Max," she didn't even seem to realize what she was saying but hearing it broke his heart. He leaned forward and tried to get her attention. "If you give her to me, I can borrow Michael's car and run down to a vet, see what they could do for her."

"I have to go with her," she said, beginning to cry harder. He moved closer, worried by her escalating negative response. He put his hand on the animal in her arms.

"Liz. Let me…"

"No," she moaned lowly, rocking harder, pulling out of his grasp.

He sat back, trying to think of a way to calm her down and help her at the same time without getting either of them in trouble, but he was coming up blank.

"Liz…"

"I'm not letting her go."

He reached out and grabbed her, remembering her reaction when he used a serious tone.

"Let her go Liz."

She shook her head hard and tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her go.

"Liz you have to let her go!"

"She's all I have I can't!"

He made another grab and when his hands landed on the animals blood slicked fur he felt a heat he'd only been able to conjure once before in his life.

Then, well…it all got crazy after that.

-

Later, when the administration asked him what happened next, he would be truthful when he said that everything was out of control. She was screaming and crying and losing it and he was trying to help her and keep her quiet and save the kitten too if he could and then…

This is where he would start the lie because the truth was…

He felt a hard current of...something. Something like electricity or energy , some sort of voltage that burst from somewhere deep in his gut and zapped through his body, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, and moved towards the pads of his fingers. He felt just like he had that day. The day he tried not to think about but he couldn't forget. He'd closed his eyes during the incident and when he opened them, he was shaking. From the power he'd just felt flow through him, from his anxiety, from his anticipation of what her reaction might be and Liz must have felt it as well because she'd stopped struggling and looked up at him with an expression he couldn't read.

"What just happened?"

He didn't say anything, couldn't, just pulled back enough for Samantha to start squirming and trying to free herself. Liz gasped and let her arms fall open. They both watched in horror and amazement as the same cat that had been dying in their arms a moment before ran toward and through the entrance gate covered with dirt and grime, blood and something that hadn't been there before.

Something silver.

Nothing to see here...

Liz blinked as Samantha disappeared off into the distance and stared for a moment before she turned back to Max. Her mouth was suddenly dry, her heart beating out of control but she tried to beat the feelings back.

This was impossible.

She was crazy.

Everybody said so.

But then she thought back to Sam, and all that blood, and how she'd been wheezing, and there was no way she should have been able to jump up and dart away like that but she had. She'd done it after Max put his hands on her and left that silver streak of... whatever it was. After Max…healed her?

Liz felt the tell tale prick of tears behind her eyes, the sudden weightlessness of a tentative relief in her gut but pushed it back, looking at the man in front of her with curious and knowing eyes.

"Max?"

He started shaking his head as soon as she opened her mouth. "No."

"Max…"

"Nothing happened."

"It didn't," she asked, voice going up an octave involuntarily.

He rubbed his temples and glanced around in a way she was familiar with, a way that indicated he was looking for the nearest exit.

She couldn't let that happen.

She grabbed his forearms and her wrists began to throb and itch in a way they hadn't since she'd got the bandages removed, she ignored them.

"You have to tell me what's going on."

"There's nothing!"

She squeezed him tighter, mouth set in a thin angry line before moving away from him, taking a different tack. She made her voice soothing and understanding, made herself calm down even though she felt like beating the truth out of him. "I already know."

She watched his adams apple bob and his eyes get soft with hope and she felt bad for what she'd just been thinking about him, for what she was going to have to do to him but she decided to cross that bridge when she came to it.

"You do?"

"Yes," she responded quickly, trying to keep him talking. "Of course."

He sighed loudly and pulled her into his arms, holding her too tightly but she didn't complain. When was the last time someone who wasn't her mother or father hugged her? She couldn't remember.

"I was starting to think it had all been a dream. That maybe I couldn't do that…"

Liz tensed up and tried to look at the side of his face he rambled on.

"… and I felt this, like, electricity…"

She narrowed her eyes as she listened to every other word and got the impression that something was wrong.

"Wait," she said. "How many times have you done that?"

"Once," he replied a little sheepishly. "I was out with my sister and there was this…"

She put her hand up to stop him. "Why didn't you use it more?"

He scratched the back of his neck and she noticed that he was rubbing her back in a circle. "I don't know how. It only ever happened once. Like I was trying to tell you earlier, I was out with my sister and there was this animal and she was freaking out and it just…happened. Kinda like today," he added with a small chuckle before pulling her close again.

She wondered if Larek knew this but didn't have to really have time to ponder it before he started talking again.

"I could feel it the first time I saw you. I felt like we were connected and I remember one of the first things you said to me was that I looked familiar to you."

He pushed her back a little and looked into her eyes with an intensity she wanted to look away from but couldn't.

"I felt it too, I just ignored it because I worked here and you were sick but I'm sure now," he said with a slow smile and she felt herself returning .

"Sure about what?"

"That we're supposed to be together. That God made us to be together."

"God," she asked, and he loosened his hold on her a little.

"Yes, God."

"What?"

"God," he said slowly. "He made us to be together. It all makes sense Liz!"

She sighed and touched her temple. Murmured, "whatever," under her breath dismissively.

"What do you mean whatever?"

"Nobody can do that Max. No human. They can't lay their hands on someone and make them better."

"Christ could."

She tried to stop from rolling her eyes and was somewhat successful. "So now you think you're Jesus?"

"No," he replied angrily. "He gave me a gift."

"Max this isn't a game anymore. You have to start thinking straight!"

"I am," he stated. "I know He gave me this."

"No he didn't."

"What are you talking about?" He looked like he was getting overwhelmed but she decided it was time to go on. Decided it was the moment to tell him who he really was. "A man named Larek has been speaking to me and he's from where you're from…I think, he doesn't really talk about that stuff with me. Anyway," she went on quickly. Cleared her throat and took a breath before going on. "You're from somewhere else."

"Somewhere else," he asked.

"Yeah."

"Where," and his whole voice was different than it had been earlier or any other time he had spoken to her. Except when he told her to go inside that time, he had that steel in his tone again and she started to feel a little scared. Especially with what she was about to say next.

"Outer space."

"Excuse me."

"Outer space," she repeated.

He looked at her for a second before laughing. "You expect me to believe that? What are you playing at?"

Liz crossed her arms over her chest offended. "You can't believe that you're an alien but it's perfectly rational to think you're Jesus. What are you playing at?"

"I told you I didn't think that," he said, irritated, before backing away and mimicking her pose. "I was just pointing out that that's happened before." He crossed his arms over his chest, "let's say that you're right. How would you know? Are you an alien too?"

"No," she replied slowly.

"Then why would they choose you to bring me this information?"

"I don't know," she said quickly, feeling foolish.

"You don't know but you expect me to just believe it when a person in a mental hospital tells me that I'm an alien."

She started breathing harder. "I'm in a hospital but I shouldn't be here. I was right! I've been looking for you since I was 13 years old Zan."

"Zan? My name is Max."

"That used to be your name," she stopped and took a breath, trying to steady herself. "I know this is hard to believe but you're not Max Evans. You're Zan and you're from another planet."

He shook his head. "What about my family, there are ultra sounds of me when…"

"I don't know," she spoke over him, feeling rushed. "But that's not your family. You don't have a mother or a father or a sister, at least not the ones you're thinking of."

He looked at her and stood up slowly. "No."

"We don't have time for this Max! You have the key to the gate and we need to get out of here as soon as possible."

"You expect me to bring you somewhere?"

"We have to go!"

He started looking around again and she got to her feet, grabbed him desperately. "I know this all sounds crazy and spur of the moment but you have to believe me! We have to go!"

"No."

"Max?"

"You're telling me nothing in my life is real! That my family my faith…" he stopped and searched for the right words, "that my God…"

And that broke the camel's back, "your God," she broke in. "There is no God and even if there was he didn't make you! You're not even human, you're a…thing!"

As the words were flying from her lips, she was sorry to have said them but then she'd never been known for her self control. There was a stretch of quiet and then he pushed her away hard enough that she almost fell before getting her feet back underneath herself at the last second.

She looked at him and took in the empty look in his face, the thousand yard stare and knew he had made his decision and it wasn't in her favor.

"You're crazy!"

She started to cry, this was the moment she'd been working toward for 4 years and she'd blown it. "Zan no!"

"My name isn't Zan, it's Max and I have a family and I am a human being! God made me and I'm not a thing!"

"I didn't mean that," she said, legitimately regretful. "It just came out."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," he said with determination and she fell on him, desperate to change his mind.

"You're right, you're not a thing and I'm sorry I put it that way but we have to move now Zan…"

"Max!"

"Max," she corrected. "We have to go now Max because something very horrible is going to happen very soon unless we go out there and stop it."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"What's going to happen unless I break you out of here?"

She panted, trying to think of a gentle way to break this to him quickly. "Something big."

"Something having to do with my 'alien status' maybe?"

"Yes."

"What?"

She grasped his biceps and looked up at him. "The worlds going to end."

He looked at her face, searching for some sign this was a joke and found none. He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Liz…"

"I know! We've already gone over how crazy and unbelievable this whole thing is but it's true!"

"It's not though," he said quietly, looking at her and feeling sad.

"What's going on out here?"

They both turned at the sound of Justin Capriati's voice and saw him and 3 other orderlies staring back at them. Max felt his heart start to beat out of control and didn't answer right away, not really sure what was going on himself.

"Hey Justin," he finally went with. "We're just talking."

"Talking huh?"

The man looked over the younger orderlies' and the patients' bloody clothes, the teary faces, how they were grasping one another and jumped to his own conclusions.

"She isn't supposed to be out here and neither are you."

"What are you doing here," Max shot back, trying to turn the tables.

"My job, I heard a ruckus out here and, after I checked it out, I went and got back up."

"Well that was unnecessary. We're okay."

He ran his eyes over them one more time. "I'm going to need you to step back."

Max hesitated for a second before moving to follow directions and Liz grabbed him, "No," she said, feeling everything slipping away,

"We have to go now!"

"Go," one of the orderlies asked gently, moving forward slowly. "You're not going anywhere darlin'. "

She pushed her body closer to his, the closest it had ever been, and looked up at him trying to make him believe her in the last few seconds she might ever have. "I'm telling you the truth," she whispered.

One of them grabbed her then and pulled her arms behind her back trying to subdue her. Max moved forward a step before stopping. There was nothing he could do.

"Zan," she yelled loudly, fighting to get out of his grasp. "We have to get out here! We have to stop it!"

He watched her wiggle and yell until they disappeared through the double doors and all he could hear were her screams.

Justin walked up next to him, suspicious. "What was going out here?"

"I…"

He put up his hand up to stop him. "On second thought, tell it to the administration."

-

"…and that's all that happened?"

He nodded and tried to stop bouncing his knee in nervousness.

"Why were you two out there alone again?"

"I already told you this three times," he replied annoyed. All you had to do was look at their faces to know they weren't buying it and he was tired of trying to sell it anyway.

"Tell us again. Please," Mr. Smith asked.

Max sighed and looked down into his lap. "I just happened to spot her. I was out there doing something else and there she was."

"What did you two talk about," Dr. Culling asked and he actually seemed slightly curious.

He shrugged, "Just how she was feeling and what was going at school."

"Where did all the blood come from?"

"I told you! There was a hurt animal."

"And an animal that had lost that amount of blood was able to just get up and dart off?"

Max swallowed and said nothing.

"Alright then, we're going to have to dismiss you from your position but we will keep investigating what went on out there and if we have to file criminal charges we will."

"I swear to you nothing…"

"That'll be all," he said and Max could hear the finality in his tone.

He nodded and stood up to leave when he caught Dr. Culling's eye.

"Are you sure that's all that happened," he asked lowly.

The other administrators were too busy picking up their coats and leaving the room to notice their conversation and he considered telling him a little more of what happened. Nothing about Zan or outer space or the end of the world but…something. He seemed more open minded than the others, Max opened his mouth but shut it, deciding to stay quiet.

"Yes," and with that, he left the room.

Max covered the floor of his room in seven strides before turning and walking back again.

It had been a week and two days since he got fired and he couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with Liz. Wondering what was happening to her even thought he didn't want to, if they were going to file charges, if she was crazy or if he really was—

Max wasn't even able to finish the thought before nervous tremors began racking his body.

"…alright mom…"

He heard Iz scream down the stairs as she stepped into her room and slammed the door behind her. He stared at the wall they shared and thought, not for the first time, about going over and asking what she remembered about that day.

Asking her if she ever thought maybe, he wasn't human. Maybe, he was a thing.

-

"There is no God and even if there was he didn't make you!

-

That one sentence kept him up at night, biting the edges of his fingers, pacing across his floor, wondering about what was in that file that he hadn't wanted to read. If he could get to it and see if she had been talking about this Zan or whoever and about outer space and the end of the world before she saw what he could do he would be able to get a better handle on what to do next.

He stopped when Isabel peeked her head around the corner of his door. "What's up jailbird."

"They haven't pressed charges against me," he said with a frown at his newfound nickname.

"Yet," she added and when his face fell she stepped in leaving the door slightly ajar and feeling a little bad. "And they won't. You didn't do anything."

"That doesn't mean they won't try and make an example out of me."

"An example of what?" She asked a little too loudly before lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Tell me you weren't doing anything to that girl."

"Of course I wasn't," he shot back. Surprised she'd even felt the need to ask.

"I never thought you would but you've been acting so weird lately. At first I thought it was just about getting fired but it's something else right?" She took a step forward. "Something's really bothering you."

He began chewing his nail and glanced at her, trying to decide if he should bring The Incident up.

"What is it," she asked, voice high and worried. That concern made the decision for him and he moved to shut the door tightly.

"Do you remember that time we were out and what I did to that animal?"

Her face went blank. "Uh…why…"

"Just answer me please."

She hesitated and looked away before finally answering, "Yes. How could I forget that my brother can bring things back to life."

"Heal them."

"What?"

"Heal them," he corrected quietly. "I don't think I can bring dead things back."

"Whatever. Just tell me what this has to do with anything."

"Did you ever tell anyone about it," he asked. "I promise I won't get mad but I need to know."

"Well I thought about telling mom and dad from time to time but then I remembered you said you'd kill it if I ever did and then the memory just sort of… went to the back of my mind and the whole thing just became this sort of surreal incident. I wouldn't even know how to talk to anyone about it without them thinking I'm insane."

He took a deep breath but didn't say anything.

"What is it Max?"

"Liz knows," he said before he could try and stop himself.

"Who?"

"The girl they caught me with at the institution." He explained. "She knows I can heal things."

Iz put balled up fists on her hips. "Well how in the hell did you let that happen?"

"I don't know. It happened a lot like when it happened with you."

"What do you mean? You didn't use it on purpose?"

"I don't know how to. She had this pet cat, it got hurt and I just wanted her to feel better."

She stared at him quietly with wide eyes and whispered. "What the fuck Max…"

"What," he asked. Somewhat taken aback by her word choice and by the astonished look on her face.

"Please don't tell me you like that nutcase."

His face got hard. "Don't call her that."

"Oh my God," she shrieked.

"Lower your voice!" He ordered through clenched teeth and went to check the door again.

"She's not well Max." Iz stated quietly as if she wasn't sure he was exactly well either. "You can't perv on a girl who's crazy."

"I'm not perving on her," he spat out. "I just feel…I don't know but believe me when I tell you I never touched her."

"I do," she replied after a moment, calming down. "And I don't think you need to worry about her letting the cat out of the bag." He watched as Isabel transformed from concerned sister to the girl who ruled their high school with an iron fist. "Even if she did she's sick, no one would believe her."

The idea of using Liz's illness against her made him feel almost as nauseous as what he was about to say next. "It's not just that."

"What else could it be?"

"She said…" he stopped and laughed, wondering if he should even go into it.

"She said?"

"She said my real name was Zan. That I was from outer space, that I wasn't really human and she had been looking for me."

He had expected a burst of laughter and an absolute reassurance of his humanity. He had expected her to tell him that Liz was wrong about everything and he needed to stop worrying about what had happened and move on with his life.

Instead she stood before him with a slack mouth and eyes filled with fear.

He took an involuntary step back. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She didn't answer so he stepped forward again and said, "Iz," quietly, trying to touch her arm for reassurance but she flinched out from under his grasp.

He let his hand flutter in front of him for a moment before retracting it back to his side slowly, hurt filling every inch of him at her rejection. She must have seen it because she stepped forward then and pulled him into a fierce hug.

"It's not like that Max! Of course you're human, I just…this is all so crazy I was kinda freaking out."

He leaned into her even though he knew she wasn't telling the whole truth. "I know."

"I would know if you were an alien," she said. Seemingly trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to soothe him. "I mean I'm your twin, if anyone would know something like that about you it would be me right?"

He nodded and smiled.

"Okay," she with confidence, "this is all nonsense and you have to stop thinking about her and that job now. You'll get another one and be just fine."

He smiled and nodded.

She started to make her way the door slowly before turning."Promise me that you know this is all bullshit and you'll let it, her, go now."

"I promise," he said without missing a beat and after a moment, she took a breath.

"I'm going out with some friends tonight. You want to come?"

He shook his head. "Thanks but I can't. I have to talk to Michael."

She nodded, said "alright then," and made her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

He took a breath and went to sit on the edge of his bed by his cell. He and Michael hadn't spoken since he was fired and he knew his friend was not happy with him. That he wouldn't be very happy about the favor he was about to ask of him either but he needed his help and his pride wasn't enough to stop him from asking.

He picked the cell up and dialed the numbers that had become so familiar by now.

"Hello?"

"Hey Mike," he said timidly.

There was no reaction for a moment then a long sigh. "What do you want?"

"Micha…"

"You know they wrote me up for what you did? After three write-up's you're out no matter what and unlike you I don't have parents to fall back on if something goes wrong!"

"I know," he said. "I'm so sorry about getting you in trouble but you know I wouldn't ever do anything to anyone."

"I know that," he said tightly. "I never thought anything really bad might have actually happened out there."

"Good, because I would hate for you to think something like that about me."

"I wouldn't."

Max smiled a little and thought again about not asking this favor but then he remembered Iz's face when he'd tried to put his hand on her shoulder, he remembered the certainty in Liz's voice as she told him he wasn't who he thought he was and no matter how crazy it all was, he needed to know what was in her files.

He didn't even know what he would want them to say when he actually got his hands on them, he'd think about that later.

"Is that all dude cause I don't want to cut our male bonding off short but I have a shift tonight and I want to get some rest before then?"

"Yeah that's all," he said then quickly added, "but I need to ask you a favor."

There was dead silence on the line and he winced as he imagined the look on his friends face.

"I knew you didn't call just to say you were sorry."

"I did," he replied adamantly, "and I am but I need you to help me out with something."

"What do you want?"

"I need to talk to Sean."

"About?"

"…Liz's file."

"Man you are obsessed," he hissed into the phone, "You already got fired and got me in trouble over that girl. Let her go."

"I can't," he said before he could stop himself and there was another charged moment of quiet between them.

"Look," he finally said. "I don't what was going on between you two out there. I don't understand whatever connection it is that you say you feel with her but I know it's not good. Please let it go."

"I wish I could," he replied sadly, "and getting those files is the first step to doing that."

"What are you looking for?"

"I'll know when I see it."

Max could hear him rubbing his head in annoyance through the phone.

"I'll check with him."

"Will I be able to get them tonight," he asked excitedly.

"Calm the fuck down," he said sharply. "I didn't give you a date. I said I would talk to him. You don't work there anymore so it's a bit more difficult. I'll speak to him and call you back later alright?"

He nodded before saying, "alright," and wishing him a good sleep before hanging up.

It wasn't the preferred outcome but it was a good one none the less and he would hopefully be on his way to finding something out, good or bad, very soon.

Then a day passed.

Then 3 days.

Then a week.

Then 2 and now here he was, sitting with his jeep idling on the side of the road outside of his prior workplace waiting for either Michael or Sean to come out and give him some answers. He'd been sitting in the idling Jeep for 40 minutes when Michael walked out of the side entrance and started making his way to his car. Max jumped out and called to him through the gate.

He started at his sudden appearance. "Jesus Christ Maxwell," he said.

Max squinted at his friend in annoyance and he replied, "sorry I said His name in vain," without much conviction before standing up straighter, confused.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find out what's going on with the whole records deal."

"I'm trying to talk him into it. He doesn't usually let outside people read them here because it's too risky to bring them out of the building."

"Just bring me in then."

He looked uncomfortable. "Max, I don't…"

"I promise I won't try and go see her or anything like that okay. I'll go in, photocopy them and walk out."

"What if someone sees you," he asked lowly and Max smiled scenting victory.

"The guards asleep, just like he always is and you know those security cameras are there just to scare people."

He licked his lips and looked back at the building making his decision. "Go sit back in your car and I'll go talk to Sean. Whatever he says I'll come and tell you."

Max nodded happily and watched his friend walk back into the building. His nails were only ragged remnants by now but he still chewed on them when nervous. He walked back to his car and sat in the driver seat, watching the entrance intently.

He was beginning to get restless after 30 minutes when Michael came back out and opened the gate, letting him into the parking lot.

"He said it'll cost you 75 dollars."

"75 dollars?"

"I know it's kinda steep but you don't work here anymore and he said only workers get a discount," Michael relayed, rolling his eyes.

"I can't use yours?"

"He said no."

Max sighed and reached into his pocket to get his wallet, pulling out the crumpled 50 he had on him and handing it to Michael. "Tell him this is all I've got now and I'll give him the other 25 later."

Michael nodded and locked the gate again behind them before he disappeared into the building once again. Leaving Max for another 20 minutes before coming back out, walking him back in to the building and leading him into the file room.

"Hurry dude," he said quickly, before disappearing back out the door.

Max located the cabinet marked 0-T and looked for 2 minutes before slipping her file free and moving to the copy machine. He didn't have time to glance at or skim over the words on the page before hand and decided to make sure to get the first couple of pages and last couple of pages. He wanted to know everything but the stuff in the middle was the least important.

What he really needed to know was where she had come from and where she was now.

About 20 minutes had gone by when Michael flew into the room ordering, "time to go" and helping gather up his papers. He would have liked some more of the file but this would have to do as he was ushered from the building quickly.

He stood behind Michael as he unlocked the door and shoved him out. "What's going on?"

"The guard actually decided to do one of his sweeps so we had to get you out of there. You have enough?"

He nodded.

"Good. I'll see you," before slipping back into the building.

Max climbed into the Jeep with a smile, sitting the precious papers on the seat next to him. There would be no sleep for him again tonight.

Max looked away from the file he held with a shaky hand. He was already aware of the attempted suicide and mental illness but her promiscuity, the extent of her self-harming, the drugs…they were all new pieces of information that, though sad, could all be explained away as the actions of a mentally ill woman but the age when all of this began…

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at the thought.

Thirteen years old.

There had been no signs of mental illness before that, she was social, well-liked, popular, president of the science club. She had all the attributes of an overachiever until…she didn't. Until she was thirteen years old and he, Maxwell Evans: Son of Dianne and Phillip, brother of Isabelle, who was also thirteen years of age used his powers for the first time.

What was worse though was what was happening to her now. She had immediately been ordered to be put into solitary confinement and tranquilized after the incident. She had been wailing and screaming and her doctor, Dr. Culling, had thought it important to separate her from the population and give her time to calm down. She'd stayed there for a week and then was released only to be caught not taking her meds.

That led to another fight and another outburst and another stint in solitary confinement that, if these files were as up to date as they should be, she was still in. His heart cinched, his hand opened of its own volition and the papers fluttered to the floor without his notice.

"No," he said lowly, getting up and beginning to pace the length of his floor. He glanced at the clock, 6:32 A.M. and groaned. He had to be at school by eight and if he didn't try to get some sleep now, he wouldn't be able to rest until after three.

Max took a breath, made himself walk to the bed and lie down not even bothering with the covers. He wanted to stay up, think about what he had read, how it may or may not involve himself, how he might be able to try and help Liz but his eyelids were getting so heavy and it had been three days since he had sat down long enough to sleep.

-

Max's eyes opened and then closed again against the sun streaming into his room. He groaned and thought about getting up when Iz burst in. "You better get up. It's 7:30 and..." She looked over her shoulder before lowering her voice. "If you skip again they'll call mom and the shit will hit the fan."

He wanted to reply but she was already yelling, "he's up," down the stairs and was gone as quickly as she'd shown up.

He pulled himself into a seated position slowly, trying to work the crick out of his neck. He considered changing out of the clothes he'd had on last night and had fallen asleep in but the jeans and green t-shirt, though rumpled, would have to do. Otherwise, he was going to be late. He ran a brush through his hair quickly, rolled on some deodorant and sprayed on some cologne before running downstairs and grabbing a slightly burnt piece of toast to munch on during his drive.

"Bye mom," he said, not stopping to hear a reply or kiss her. He ran to his jeep, jumped into the driver's seat, stuck the key in the ignition, turned it and…nothing. He repeated the sequence once, then twice and when it still didn't start, jumped out of the car and wandered back into the house grouchily.

"Something's up with my car, it won't start." There was a slightly whiney quality to his tone that he didn't like but couldn't control.

Dianne looked over shoulder then at the clock, 7:50, before dropping what she was doing and grabbing her keys. "Come on, I'll drive you," she replied breathlessly moving out the door and towards her car.

"Iz do you…," she started yelling back into the house.

She shook her head without looking up. "A friend's coming to get me. Thanks anyway."

Dianne smiled and blew her kiss before hurrying Max to the car.

"Give me your keys and I'll have it checked out while you're at school."

He hopped in and clicked his seatbelt into place before handing them over.

"Thank you for the ride," he muttered sheepishly.

She started the car and they rode in silence. He loved his mother but at times like these, he never really knew what to say to her. Should he mention the school he hadn't really been going to recently or the job he just got fired from, or the patient who knew his deepest secret and thought he might be the alien she had been looking for for four years.

"How's school been going?"

School it was then.

"Alright I guess," he replied, trying to be casual.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Because I just got a call from them saying you haven't been showing up to class."

There was a charged moment of quiet between them when he opened his mouth to reply but she spoke over him. "I know you've been having a hard time lately and I'm willing to give you a few passes. You're a good kid and you've never caused me undue trouble but I just want to say, if there's anything you need to talk about I'm here."

"Mom…"

She put her hand up to quiet him. "That's all I'm saying. Well that and you better start making your way to school regularly again."

"Of course," he added, relieved that she was giving him some leeway. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye and thought about telling her what was going on in his life, what was stopping him from going to class, what was making him bite his nails down to the quick but instead he questioned, "have you ever noticed anything weird about me?"

"What," she asked, glancing at him then looking back at the road.

He caught himself beginning to chew on his nail and stopped, bringing his hand to his lap. "Just anything strange while I was growing up."

She looked lost in thought before saying, "no, I don't think so."

"While I was a baby?"

She shook her head.

"While you were pregnant? Anything?"

She seemed like she was ready to say no again but stopped. She looked as though she suddenly remembered something long forgotten.

His heart kick started and he turned his whole upper body towards her.

"What? What is it?"

Then that look was gone. "Nothing. There was nothing strange."

"But you just looked…"

"Max, you and Iz were a great pregnancy and a fairly easy delivery. There was nothing noteworthy about it besides the two beautiful children I had at the end."

She pulled over and parked on the curb in front of the school, unbuckled her seat belt and turned to touch the side of his face gently. "What answer are you looking for? What's wrong?"

He took a deep breath and smiled softly, said, "nothing," as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. He glanced at the clock, 8:15, before getting out of the car and making his way inside. He walked down the hall slowly and peeked into his first period civics class waiting until the teacher turned his back away before opening the door and trying to quietly make his way to the back of the room. He was just about to sit when Mr. Dennis turned toward him with a big smile.

"Mr. Maxwell Evans! It's good of you to finally show up on this glorious Friday morning how have you been?"

He froze in a half seated, half standing position and looked around with wide eyes, hating that he was currently the center of attention. "I've been…sick. But I'm better now."

"Sick huh," The older man asked, exaggerated sympathetic face in place. Mr. Dennis was in his early to mid 50's, balding and one of the few teachers who bothered to wear button downs and trousers every day.

He was also a major hard ass.

"…yes."

Awkward giggles began to sound around the room and he finally took the initiative to sit down.

"All better then?"

"Yes, thank you for asking."

"Good, cause you've got a week's detention. See me after class."

"What for," he asked before he could stop himself.

Attention switched back to him quickly in surprise, Max Evans never got detention and he definitely never spoke back.

Except now it appeared he got and did both of those things.

"Because you were late, and I'm adding a day onto that because I don't like your tone," he replied, taken aback by the usually quiet, put together and studious young man's outburst. Mr. Dennis took in his disheveled appearance, his suddenly erratic attendance and behavior and made a mental note to speak to the counselors about talking to him as soon as possible.

Just in case.

The requisite ooooooohhhhhhh's went up and Max apologized as he pushed his hair out of face, opened his book, and decided to keep his mouth shut.

-

"Iz…," he called don the hall only to be cut off.

"You've got detention, I know. I'll tell mom to swing by and pick you up later," she said breathlessly, throwing a few books into her bag and trotting down the hall to meet up with two girlfriends. He watched them disappear out the swinging doors.

He turned to go up the stairs to the second floor and ran directly into someone with long tan legs, a short skirt and a tight shirt topped by a cloud of blond hair.

He felt his chest knot up, it was Pam Troy.

Her books scattered across the floor and his first thought was to run as fast as possible in whatever direction could lead him the farthest away from her but she was already glancing up at him, giving the evil eye.

"Well are you going to help me or what?"

He sighed and knelt down gingerly, trying to smile. "How have you been?"

She didn't say anything for a second, just gathered up her things and stuffed them back into her bag stiffly. "Fine, you?"

"Pretty good I guess."

He had wanted to catch up with her for awhile and explain what happened after their date but then everything with Liz and his job came up and it just…slipped his mind. He let his eyes wander to her downturned face and decided to just go for it. "I wanted to tell you I was sor…"

She stood up quickly and put her hand out palm first, not even making eye contact. "Forget it. I'm not interested," before briskly making her way down the hall and out the same double doors Iz had disappeared through.

He started after her but it was already 3:15 and he didn't need to get in anymore trouble by being late so he decided to put it off until later. He glanced in her direction once more before slowly making his way to room 211 and loitering outside the door only to catch sight of Michael with his head on a desk.

He let out the breath he wasn't aware he was holding and walked in, sitting down next to his friend.

"What's up?"

He opened a sleepy eye and smiled. "I heard you got in trouble."

"Yeah, you and everyone else."

He raised his head up and rested it on the palm of his hand, eyes still half closed and looked Max over.

"You look awful."

"Right back at ya," he sighed and continued. "You should really get a new job."

"Well if there was anything else that paid as much I would go but there isn't so…" he shrugged, "I'll just keep working there then being late for school and getting detention until I graduate."

Max looked at his sleepy countenance and tried to keep the empathy he felt for his friend off of his face. Knowing Michael, he wouldn't appreciate it.

"So," he said after a moment. "Did you find anything in her files?"

Max hesitated for a moment. "Nothing important."

He nodded, looking relieved. "So will you please let it go now?"

Max sighed and glanced out the window, imagining what Liz must be feeling locked up, drugged up and tied down in that room…

Then he looked back at Michael.

Looked at him and lied.

-

"…so you should have it back by the end of the week."

Dianne Evans looked at her son with a confused smile when he didn't answer. "Did you hear me Max?"

He looked at her with blood shot eyes and a forced smile. "Yeah, thanks for taking care of that for me."

If he was half as perceptive as he normally was, Max would've noticed the thoughtful look that crossed her face but he didn't. He opened the door and moved to step out, already thinking of his bed, when she stopped him with a touch on his shoulder.

He turned back, "yes."

She opened her mouth, then closed it again with a smile. "Nothing. I'll be making chicken lasagna tonight. Is that good?"

"That's my favorite," he replied with a smile before he got out of the car.

-

Dianne watched her son walk inside and pulled the key out of the ignition, got out and made her way inside as well. She started toward the kitchen to start cooking when she thought better of it and made her way up to his room only to find him asleep laying horizontally across the foot of the bed. She touched his forehead, concerned about his mood changes, his sudden lack of interest in school, the constant nail biting.

She picked up his hands and grimaced at the mess of torn skin and bleeding cuticles before she laid it down beside him gently. Dianne considered shaking him awake and telling him what had happened that night, the night he was born, but he had been looking so tired and run down lately. She was happy to see him finally getting some rest. Dianne stood and went to the hall to grab a throw, laid it across and stared down at his prone body for a moment before making her way back downstairs.

No, she wouldn't tell him now, it wasn't important anyway.

-

He wandered downstairs four hours later to see his mom at the table, picking at the lasagna with a fork in one hand and holding a book she was reading with the other. She looked up and he smiled hello before going over to the counter and cutting a piece to bring to the table.

"Where's dad and Iz?"

"Work and out with friends," she marked her page and set the novel down. "It's just you and me tonight."

He nodded and went to sit down to start shoveling the food into his mouth. He tried to think of the last time he'd eaten and realized he couldn't remember. Max only noticed his mother agitated state when she reached out and put her hand on his and he looked up long enough to meet her eyes.

"Yes?"

"Are you on drugs," the words fell out of her mouth quickly. "I just want you to know that your father and I love you and if you're in trouble we'll do everything possible to try and help you but you have to be honest with me first."

He was so shocked he didn't have time to get upset as he said flatly. "I'm not on drugs."

"It's just that you've been acting so out of character since you left your job."

"I didn't leave, I was fired and for the second time. I. Am. Not. On. Drugs," he repeated in a sharp staccato.

She pulled her hand back and sat up straight, "I just wanted you to know that no matter what, we would be there for you."

He closed his eyes, feeling like an ass for talking to her that way before opening them again and saying quietly. "I didn't mean it that way mom, I'm sorry. I know you're just worried."

She smiled tightly, started picking at her food again and tried to change the subject. "Is it good?"

He nodded and started eating again.

He watched her sneak peeks at the side of his face before she worked up enough courage to say whatever she had on her mind.

"Max?"

He looked up.

"You know how you asked me if there was anything strange about you that I could remember?"

He nodded again, eyes wide and curious.

"Well, there's something's that happened that I had completely forgotten about."

"Like what," he asked, trying to be casual, trying not to spook her.

"I was about a week and a half overdue and your dad had to go on business trip. I wasn't supposed to be traveling but I drove to New Mexico to see your grandmother. I was so scared and I just…," she looked like she struggling to describe it but he didn't help, just waited.

" I needed someone."

"That's understandable," he responded, trying to spur her on.

"Two days later I had to leave. Your grandma tried to talk me into staying but I wouldn't hear it. I had to be with your father when I went into labor. She wanted me to get a plan ticket but I didn't want to leave my car and she couldn't come along because of her job so I set out on my own."

The further she got into the story the vaguer her eyes became. The more disconnected she seemed to the present.

"I remember I left really late so there wouldn't be as many people on the road and I could get back here faster but something happened."

"What," he asked breathlessly, unconsciously leaning forward in his seat.

She swallowed and looked at him, "there was… a light. Not a bright one, like a spotlight or anything, more like a reflection of something shiny and I lost my breath and…I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head, "I don't know what happened but I woke up on my back on the shoulder of the road with a lady kneeling over me. My contractions were coming fast and she drove me to the hospital. The weird thing is that when I was getting in her car the clock said it after 2 A.M but I remember right before I passed out that it was around 11. One of my favorite DJ's was on and he always came on at 11."

She ran her hand through her hair. "I was out for 3 hours."

He couldn't think about the other things she revealed tonight so he latched onto something easy. "Did the woman take you out of the car?"

She thought before she shook her head. "She said she found me there. I don't know when or why I got out."

Dianne laughed suddenly and leaned on her elbow. "There were other interesting things too. When you two were little, we had locks on the fridge and on the cabinets and oven but they would never keep you out of things. Locks on the doors too, the bedrooms, the bathrooms…we could never keep you out. At first we thought it was something we were doing wrong but Isabelle couldn't open them and neither could we when we tested them but you always could."

He felt sick but his mother was on a roll and would not be stopped.

"Once, when you were around 3, we found you outside walking down the middle of the road and it was like you were in a trance. We thought maybe you were a sleep walker but it never happened again."

She licked her lips. "I'm sorry I said nothing happened when you asked earlier but I honestly hadn't thought of those things in years and I never even told anyone about passing out in the car."

"Why," he asked in a monotone.

She shook her head, as confused as he was. "Something in me just said not to and then after awhile I just kind of…forgot."

She looked back at him, sitting across from her with shiny eyes. "Why are you crying? What does this mean?"

He smiled absently, more afraid and bewildered than he'd ever been in his life, before he whispered, "I don't know."

Max sat straight up in bed and looked at the clock on his side table, groggily waited for the glaring red splotch of color to reassemble its self into numbers.

It was 5:30 A.M and he rubbed his eyes with a sigh. He still wasn't really sleeping.

After what his mother told him…

He didn't know what it meant, but he knew it mean something… something he didn't like. After their talk he'd left her there, confused and full of questions he couldn't answer, at the table, made his way back up to his room and to Liz's file. Reading it front to back again and again, looking for something to be there that he'd missed on his first read through. Anything that might explain what she'd told him, what his mother had gone through during his and his sister's birth and found nothing. Nothing that could explain why he was capable of doing what he was.

After hours of going over the same paragraph, he decided to give it a rest until tomorrow and try reading them again with the kind of clear head that only rest could provide. He'd only been asleep 3 hours and if his current mood was any indication, he wouldn't be getting back to bed anytime soon. He looked over his shoulder at his pillow and groaned, stood up, grabbed some clothes and left his room, stopping once at the linen closet in the hall to grab a towel and made his way to the bathroom.

Once inside, he shut the door quietly behind him, clicked on the light, stood at the sink and took in the tired hazel eyes, the dark circles, and the down turned mouth before leaning forward and splashing his face with water. He was spinning out of control his grades were falling, he wasn't sleeping, his life was falling apart before his eyes and he had to find a way to stop it. To figure out what was happening with Liz, and everything else so he could get back on track before he lost everything he'd worked so hard for.

He looked back up at the mirror and ran his hand through his hair with frustration. The only way he could even begin to try and clear some of this up was by going back to the hospital and getting the rest of her file but, God knows, he didn't want to.

Didn't want to go back to that dank building, the place from which he'd been fired, the place that had begun to represent the beginning of his end and most of all, he didn't want to walk in and feel her presence. Max didn't want to feel that small itch at the base of neck that he'd begun to associate with her nearness, he didn't want to feel it because normal people wouldn't.

He tried to think of something, of any other way he could do this but there didn't seem to be another way out.

Max looked up at his reflection and nodded to himself. He needed to get all of these questions off of his mind and there were only 2 ways he could do that: Talk to Liz , which was out of the question, or just suck it up and go back again because he needed the rest of her file. He was sure those few papers would finally prove that Liz was unstable, that she couldn't be trusted and that there was nothing wrong with him. That everything he and his mother had spoken about the previous night was a coincidence and nothing more than that.

Then he would be who he was again.

Back to the good kid who did well in school without much effort, who never got fired from jobs, he'd be a guy who could sleep through the night again and with that thought he felt his muscles relax with a smile. He caught his own eye in the mirror again and all he saw was resolve. He would go back to the hospital.

Go back and find out what else her papers said.

He smiled wider then and grabbed the neck of his shirt to pull it over his head. Pulled off his pajama bottoms and stepped into the shower ignoring the doubts growing in the back of his mind.

-

Max walked down the steps whistling, jumping over the bottom, and ran directly into his suspicious father.

"Good morning" he said adding a smile and a hug.

"Good morning Max," the older man said back, the bagel he'd been eating almost falling out of hand at the sight of his smiling son. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much."

Philip nodded. He wanted to question him further but he was already late for work so he gave his son another hug and made his way to the door instead. "You 2 have a good day alright," he yelled so his daughter would hear as well.

"Okay," Iz answered from the kitchen.

The younger man nodded, "you too."

His father closed the door behind himself and Max stopped when he saw Iz at the stove. They hadn't really spoken since he'd told her what happened with Liz. He hesitated for a moment before plastering his smile back on.

"You cooked breakfast," he asked disbelievingly.

She turned around long enough to roll her eyes before cutting a bagel in half and tossing it in the oven. "How hard is it to toast a piece of bread?"

"For you?"

He could feel her roll her eyes even though her back was turned. "Do you want a piece or no?"

"Both sides please."

She grinned and cut another one.

"Where's mom?"

She shrugged, "work I guess. She wasn't here when I got up."

He plopped down into a chair and smiled appreciatively when she sat his plate down and sat across from him. "You look mighty chipper this morning," she remarked with a hint of suspicion.

"I'm feeling good today."

"Why?"

"Just made some important decisions is all."

"Alright," she replied, looking curious. "Like what?"

He looked at her and thought, not for the first time, about telling her what was going on. The truth about it was he needed someone to talk to but he didn't want her to be worried or possibly get hurt by what he was doing so he kept his mouth shut.

"That's my business."

"Sorry," she said, putting her hands up and rolling her eyes.

A less than comfortable quiet stretched between them before she broke it.

"You know," she said after a moment with a smile. "I thought you were actually going to tell me what's been up with you lately."

He sat up a little straighter and she eyed him warily over her bagel before looking back into her plate. "Is it about what happened at your job with that girl?"

He got up from the table quickly. "I would love to talk, really," he clarified at her dubious expression, "but I have some plans to make so thanks for the bagel and I'll see you later."

He barely heard her answer he was out the door so fast.

-

Tracking down Sean was the hard part.

He called everyone from the hospital that he knew but the guy didn't have a steady address. He crashed wherever he could find a soft place to land, guest rooms, sofas, someone's floor…wherever. He picked back up his phone and struggled for a second before dialing Michael.

He hadn't wanted to get his friend involved with this again but now it didn't look like he had a choice.

"Hey Max."

"Hey Michael."

"What's up?"

"Well," he said slowly, wishing he had taken the time to think up something to say before calling.

"What?"

"What's Sean's number again?"

"You're not still obsessed with Liz are you?"

"I've never been obsessed with her and no I am not going there for that. I just want to give Sean the rest of his money."

That wasn't the truth, at all, but he hoped it was a good enough lie to throw his friend off the trail.

The line was quiet for a moment. "Has he been bothering you about it?"

"No."

"Then why're you paying him back?"

"Because I owe him," he answered as if the response was obvious.

"Fine, whatever, hold on a second," he replied, "I'm going to give you Maria's number."

"Why?"

"He's her cousin."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

"You ask her for me."

"Max…"

"Please Michael! You know she's been mad at me ever since that thing with Pam and I really need to speak to Sean. I wouldn't have called you if I didn't."

"She's mad with me about that too."

"But she loves you. She could take or leave me."

He groaned and Max moved in for the kill. "Please man, I really need to…give him this money you know."

"Alright," he finally answered, "I'll call you back and Max," Michael stopped him before he could hang up.

"Yeah?"

"I know there's more to this than what you're saying but I'm not even going to ask."

"Thanks," Max answered with a sigh and a relief so deep he couldn't put a name to it. "I'll be waiting."

-

The call came back quicker than he thought it would and Max wrote it down with a mix of anticipation and dread.

"Thanks man, you're really helping me out."

"Just don't do anything stupid alright."

"I won't. I just need to speak to him."

"Alright. I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, we'll go somewhere and it's on me."

"It better be" he grunted as if there had never been any doubt about it and hung up without saying goodbye.

He shrugged Michael's usual curtness off and dialed. It rang and rang and just when he was about to hang up, someone answered quietly.

"Who is this?"

"Um hi Sean, It's Max."

"What do you want? You still owe me."

"I know. I wanted to pay you the rest of your money and ask if I could get back in there."

"Man…"

"I know," he said quickly, "it's trouble for you but I'll pay you what I owe and an extra 50 on top of the normal cost for getting me in."

There was an intake of breath on the other side of the line and he had the feeling that Sean was about to say no but was pleasantly surprised.

"Alright dude. I'll get you in but we'll have to wait until next month sometime…"

"It has to be tonight," he interrupted without thought and was surprised by his own gull.

"Tonight?"

"I need in there tonight Sean," he wasn't sure where this sudden urgency was coming from but he couldn't deny now that it was there at the front of his mind, spurring him forward. He'd never been a confrontational type of person, had always gone with the flow, never rocked the boat and all those other sayings but he felt different now. It was if something had taken him over.

He needed to get in that building, he needed to get in tonight and he would do whatever he had to too make sure that happened.

"I'm not sure…"

"It's now or never Sean, I need to get In there and I have 150 dollars for you if you can help me."

He heard a sigh. "Meet me on the side of the building at midnight, wear your old uniform and be there on time or I'm leaving."

He narrowed his eyes and wanted to question about the uniform but shrugged instead, if he wanted him to wear it, it must be for a reason.

Max smiled to himself. "I'll be there."

-

Getting inside the building was as easy it had been the first time.

He'd gotten to the hospital 20 minutes early and waited to see Sean's figure lurking on the side of the building. He got him inside the gate and there were the same broken security cameras, the same exit door that didn't lock. He looked to side once they were in the building looking for their sleeping guard only to see an empty desk.

He motioned to it. "Where is he?"

"Gone, they hired a guy who actually does his rounds and stays awake this time."

Sean grabbed his uniform shirt and let it go quickly at his surprised look. "That's why I told you to wear this and that's why I can't let people in here anymore after this Max. This guy's talking about revamping the security…" he shook his head. "To tell you the truth, I'll probably be out of here soon. I don't like people micro managing me you know.'

Max nodded ready to move on and they went to the file room quickly. "You have 20 minutes. Greg will be passing by this floor so you need to be on the lookout for him. If he finds you here, I can't save you and if you're caught…"

"I don't know you. I got it," he replied and moved to the file cabinets.

"Good luck then," he said, knowing the conversation was over and slipped out of the room.

Max opened the drawer and got to work.

-

He almost heard the footsteps too late.

He had finished copying the file and was exiting the room when he heard him, Greg, and turned fast enough to see the bob and weave of his flashlight from around the far corner.

He stopped breathing, shoved the papers in the waist band of his uniform and put his back flat against the wall. He stopped thinking as the man moved closer. Max slowly slinked along the wall trying to move but not grab the other mans attention and when Greg stopped abruptly Max did too.

"Is someone there?'

The slight uptick in his heartbeat was a full-blown drumbeat now. He ran his hands along the wall to either side of his prone body and felt a doorknob on both sides. He, once again, had two choices: Turn one of the knobs and risk it being locked or Greg hearing him or stand still and risk Greg walking up on him.

He watched the man's flashlight as it moved closer and tensed, ready to be discovered, when something inside of him, that same something that knew he had to come here tonight, probably the same something that made his mother forget, made him reach for the knob on his right side blindly. Max never took his eyes away from the shadow of the man that stood between him and leaving this building free or in handcuffs as he turned the knob slowly and almost fainted in relief when it began to open.

He kept his eyes on the guard as he moved toward the door and moved inside the room, covertly closing the door behind him with an exhale. He listened at the door for a moment, trying to hear if he was coming closer when there was a low moan behind him.

He knew then where following something inside of him had led even though Max hadn't turned to look at the person behind him yet. He knew that his choice to come in here wasn't thoughtless, or a happy coincidence or random at all.

He didn't want to but Max began to turn toward her slowly, seriously thought about running back out into the hall when his suspicions were confirmed.

There she was, the origin of all his problems.

Liz was strapped down to the bed behind him and in that instant he seriously didn't care about what could happen if he ran out. Damn the guard, damn jail damn his record; she seemed more of a threat to him in that moment than any of those things put together and that's when he noticed it again.

That awareness of her.

That little tickle on the back of his neck that he had started to feel lately. That little tightness that alerted him to her existence. That pulled him to her. She was looking up then, with glassy, drugged eyes that were also, somehow, full of awareness.

"Max?"

"I didn't know you'd be in here," he said dumbly. "I just…"

Max trailed off and she smiled, leaned her head to the side as she slurred. "Your feet have been leading you to me since the day we met."

He shook his head but moved closer despite himself. "That can't be…"

Liz met his eyes then with spacey determination. "You know that's not true. Now what are you going to do about it?"