Roswell Fanatics

Runner up for Best Story (1-15 chapters)




Title: Behind the Lies
Author: Anne/Cookie2697
E-mail: dreambehr@yahoo.com
Category: General/Philip Evans POV
Background: Philip Evans continues his search for information on Max. Post-Behind the Music.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Please don’t sue. They belong to Fox. And Katims. And KKB. And Melinda.

Thanks to Kath for hosting my beautiful banner by EmilyLuvsRoswell!

Part 1

The darkness that fills the night engulfs me as I climb out of my car, carefully locking it before hurrying into the building, and up the stairs to my office. Flipping the light switch on, the darkness is flooded away and I squint and cringe, surprising myself with my drastic reaction to the light. Shutting it back off, I turn on the small, dim light on my desk, and let the shadows consume the room.

I sit at my desk, running my mind over the list in my hands, again and again, double checking myself, wondering if I have any more leads to immediately follow. Setting down the list, I take another drink, and a thought suddenly crosses my mind, a single question that suddenly consumes my thoughts.

When did I become so darkly obsessed with my own son?

His words rush through my mind again and again.

You're not supposed to spy on your own son.

And my silent response follows suit. But are you my son anymore? I don't even know him…I don't even know when it was I lost him…and I can't help wondering if I ever truly knew him. I remember Diane's words to me one night, two years earlier, when she mentioned that Max had secrets, that he couldn't seem to bring himself to open up to her. At the time it saddened me, but I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how I could help.

But her words stayed with me, and for the first time I started to watch and to listen. That was when I started noticing his disappearances. Sometimes it was for a day, sometimes for a week, and always he came back, always he had some excuse about where he was, but somehow I knew that he was lying to me.

I knew I needed to do something, anything to help my son, so I started sending him to the therapist. It didn't last though…one day he just stopped going, and his doctor recommended to me that he didn't return. Max refused to open up about anything…therapy wasn't helping.

Utah was the final straw…my son had truly become a stranger to me, and nothing I could do would get him to warm to me, even after I helped free Liz…and that was when it had happened. I couldn't stop thinking about Max, I couldn't stop wondering what it was he was into, what he was doing. Questions constantly filled my mind: Why did he rob that convenience store? Where does he always disappear to? Is there anyone else involved?

That was when I started the board. I started compiling everything I knew. It started simply, with the board, and my own personal thoughts and suspicions. I was curious, so I started asking questions. I thought I was being inconspicuous. After all, I was just trying to see what I could learn…but my obsession just kept growing. I hired the investigator, praying that a professional could see more in Max's actions than I did…and so far I've found his insights to be intriguing.

Somewhere down the line I got careless though. Somehow Max found out.

There is a slight sense of guilt plaguing my thoughts…but I push it to the back. I need to know the truth…I need to find out why my own son is lying to me. I need to help him if I can. I need to get him out of trouble in any way I possibly can.

Again I have to remind myself that I'm not doing this for me, I'm doing this for Max. I’m doing this for his own good.

Setting down my drink, I pick up my list of leads again, my eyes flying quickly over it as I try to decide what my next move is going to be.

#1. Tess Harding.

I study the name for a long moment. Max's ex-girlfriend is like an enigma to me. I never met her personally, was never properly introduced to her, although I saw them together more than once. I have no idea when they started dating, or how long it lasted. Most importantly, I have no idea where to reach her.

My eyes flicker towards the phone, as I ponder calling Jim Valenti up, seeing if he found that address for me. Or maybe I could talk to Kyle directly, although I have a feeling that approaching Max's friends might just lead to more trouble. My best bet in dealing with the kids is to make them believe that I've given up, that it's over.

New York…he said she was in New York.

I toy with the idea of trying to find her there, but I know it won't be as easy as it sounds. New York is one of the biggest cities in the world. Finding a single teenage girl there would be nearly impossible.

Sighing, I pick up my pen, crossing #1 off my list. Finding Tess is not an option. The only chance I have is to approach Max's friends, and see if I can gather information about their relationship. I need to know when they started going out, when they broke up, when Max got back together with Liz.

Could Tess have left because of Max and Liz's reunion? Was she angry, jealous? There are so many questions. Did Max truly impregnate her, or was that just another lie?

Call me naïve, but I have a hard time believing that my son would be so irresponsible. Max is many things: secretive, closed off, suspicious, untrustworthy, but irresponsible isn't anywhere near the list. He has always looked out for the people around him, he’s always organized, always prepared for anything. It's a side of him that has always made me proud.

Approaching Max's friends isn't an option though, nor is approaching Jim in front of Kyle again, that could have been my initial mistake.

Information on Tess will just have to wait until later.

#2. The Jeep.

My heart clenches as my eyes slide down the list. The situation with the jeep truly hurts, because this is the only time I actually caught Max in the middle of a lie. But why? Why did he get rid of the jeep? What was he trying to hide?

Does it have something to do with Tess?

Tess and the jeep disappeared at the same time, and now that we've found the jeep's ruins, I can't help wondering how Tess is connected. Could she be in a similar condition?

I shy away from those thoughts immediately. Regardless of what the clues are pointing towards, I simply can't believe that Max would harm anyone, let alone Tess Harding, his ex-girlfriend. Especially if she was pregnant.

I sigh, trying to release my frustration along with the air in my lungs, as I allow the pen in my hand to lightly trace over the words again.

I'm at a stopping point on the jeep, at least for now. The jeep has been found, and the investigator is studying it tonight. Until our meeting tomorrow afternoon I have nothing I can do about that development…I just have to wait.

But waiting isn't an option. I have to do something between now and then.

#3. F.B.I.

I pause on the next item and feel a cold chill seize my heart. This is the hardest one for me to understand. What interest could the F.B.I. possibly have in my son? Why did they show up in Utah? Why did they care so much about the case?

What is Max hiding?

Out of all the developments of the past few months, this is the one that scares me the most…because this is the one that tells me that whatever is going on is big, huge, possibly beyond even my comprehension.

I want so desperately to follow this lead, to see where it will take me, but I have no idea how to proceed. I know the F.B.I. won't tell me anything. They were so eager to cover up the chemical evidence from the convenience store basement, that I know this is the kind of stuff that the X-Files is based on. Maybe not aliens, but it's definitely a cover up, a conspiracy.

I have a feeling that Max could be the only person to give me insight on this development.

Which leaves me with yet enough bust on my short list of leads.

#4. The desert.

Dropping the list suddenly, I jerk my desk drawer open, pulling out the file folder that the investigator recently deposited in my care. I take a deep breath, anticipating what waits inside, as I slowly unfold the flap, pulling out the papers within.

A small stack of pictures rests in my hands, pictures of Max and Michael pacing around, working on something hidden from my view by Max's car. Flipping to the bottom of the pile is a single sheet of paper, directions to their location in the desert scrawled in the investigator's messy handwriting.

I glance once more at the pictures, and a fuzzy image in the back catches my eye. The end of a pole, lying on the ground, just barely poking out from beneath the car.

A pole…like the end of a tool…maybe a shovel.

My eyes widen, and I stare at the picture for a long moment, realizing what I'm seeing before my eyes.

Max is literally burying his secrets.

The question is: what is he hiding there?

Suddenly I know without a doubt what my next step is. I need to know what Max and Michael were burying out in the desert two days ago.

~~~~~~ ~~~

My alarm rings early the next morning, as I pull myself from what little sleep I had, kissing Diane softly on the forehead before I roll out of bed and heading for the shower to prepare myself for the journey that will consume my morning.

I don't know what I expect to find out in the desert…but all I know is that there's this energy building inside of me. Whatever it is that's buried in the desert, I just have this gut feeling that it's going to be important…that it could change everything.

The excitement is coursing though me as I get into my car and head out of town, turning onto the highway, slowly moving closer to the answers that may lie ahead…closer to saving my son. It seems to be beckoning me on…and I can't ignore the pull. I don't want to.

As I drive, it suddenly occurs to me that in a matter of moments the night before, my entire search has changed. The past few days have been all about finding the jeep, and it was a success. We have the jeep, yet I’m not even thinking about what will come out of the analysis the investigator is going to be presenting to me this afternoon. I believe, possibly even blindly, that this trip to the desert is even more important.

A half hour later I pull off the highway quickly at the sight of the dirt road heading straight towards the strange rock formations that the investigator described in his notes. The road grows bumpier, rockier, but I ignore it, pushing my sedan on, until I finally come to the end of the road. I recognize the terrain from the pictures and quickly throw my car into park, stepping out and stretching as I stare up into the already bright warm sun.

Within moments I'm a man on a mission, searching the ground for any inconsistencies in the terrain which might be signs of digging. I push the dirt around with my sneakers, as I wander…any clues would help. For about a half hour I continue like this until I finally head back to the car in frustration.

I sit down, taking a sip from the water bottle I packed that morning, and my eyes fall on the folder sitting beside me.

Sighing, I take another sip of water. I was so eager to get searching that I didn’t even stop to think, to realize that the answer is right beside me. Flipping the folder open, I examine the picture on top, holding it up and comparing it to the land surrounding me.

“Ah ha!” I cry aloud, as I match up the trees and bushes behind Max and Michael in the picture to those surrounding me. Climbing back out of the car, I start moving in the right direction, studying the ground around me, and comparing the distance to that in the picture.

The tension starts building within me. I know I’m close, probably only steps away from the hole that Max and Michael dug. I just need to find it. It’s not as easy as it sounds, but I persist, searching the dirt to no avail.

Kicking at the ground in frustration, I gasp when I feel the dirt loosely sliding away beneath my shoes. The desert dirt should be packed tightly, rocky, but this is like loose gravel. I study it closely, unwilling to make a mistake, turning and walking a few feet to the left and kicking at the ground there.

It is solid.

I smile widely with pride, knowing without a doubt, that I have found something, as I turn back to my car to retrieve the shovel from my trunk.

The desert heat scorches my neck as I begin to dig. Pausing, I wipe the sweat from my brow, cursing the hot sun. I’ll probably get sunburned today, but it doesn’t matter. My slight irritation will be nothing compared to the relief of learning whatever it is my son is involved in.

The hole slowly grows deeper as I dig on and on…still I find nothing. Max did a good job of hiding whatever it is he was trying to hide. He was not overly careless. I can’t help feeling proud of him. My son is a careful, intelligent man. I wonder how much of that he gained from me, and how much of it stems from his secrets.

My heart races as suddenly, the dust I dig through becomes solid, and I’m brushing it away to find a large, black trash bag hidden in the earth.

Suddenly I pause for a moment, staring at what’s in front of me. For the first time I realize what it is I’m about to do…to literally tear into Max’s secrets, possibly find answers to all that Diane and I have been concerned about for over a year, and for a moment my guilty conscience takes over. Max will not be happy with me for this…hopefully the wall I wedge between my son and I will not be permanent, but I find myself clinging to the hope that maybe in the long run this discovery will be the glue that will hold my family together.

It is with these thoughts in my mind that I continue clearing the dirt around the bag, and pull it from its hiding place, tossing it over my shoulder and heading back towards the car. I drop it into the open, waiting trunk, take a deep breath, and finally, without any more hesitation, I tear the bag open.

Part 2

The investigator across from me is rambling on about the final report on the remains of what used to be my son’s jeep. I have his report open in front of me as he rambles away, and I can’t help wondering, as I tap my fingers on my desk in irritation, if he knows that I’m not listening to a word he’s saying, and I’m not actually reading this report.

I just don’t care about the report anymore, all I care about is the discoveries I made that morning in the desert, and studying them more closely. The box filled with clues is stuffed away in the bottom of my coat closet…for some reason, something deep within me tells me that I shouldn’t let the investigator see what’s in that box.

My irritation level rises, and I realize that now this investigator is just another person standing in the way of what I want to do. I need to get him out of the way.

Standing, I penetrate his gaze with my own intense one.

“Yes, thank you for your time and effort. I really appreciate all of this. I’ll call you if I need anything else.”

“You’re giving up on this? Just like that?” he asks me in surprise.

“No, I just need time to process all of this, and my wife wants me home early tonight for dinner. You understand, she’s getting a little fed up with me being so busy with work. I promised her this one night. Can we talk later?”

“All right,” he concedes reluctantly. “Have a good evening with your wife.”

“Thank you, I will.”

And finally he’s gone. I fall back in my chair, breathing a sigh of relief, as I shove the folder out of my site. It’s just not necessary anymore, not like the things I found this morning in the desert.

I take a sip of water, letting the cool liquid drench my parched throat, as I glance at the closet door. It’s like a beacon to me, drawing me in as I stand and cross the room, slowly moving closer to the answers that I know await me. I open the door, step inside and kneel before the box, dusty not from age, but from the desert sand. Blowing off the lid, I open the box, and stare at the contents.

One by one I take each one out, studying it closely. For the most part they make very little sense to me: five small, unnaturally smooth, amber-colored rocks, a pendant that I’ve seen around Isabel’s neck more than once of a strange swirly design, two metallic, football shaped objects with the same swirly design in it. But it’s the other things that attract my attention the most…the things that I can study closer, try to make some, if little sense out of.

I pick up the first of these objects: a book with metal pages, the front page engraved with the swirly design that is obviously a theme here. I trace the engraving with my finger, wondering what it means, what its importance is to my son, before flipping the cover open.

The book is like gibberish to me. Every metallic page is inscribed with strange symbols that I can’t even begin to comprehend. I imagine it must be another language, another style of lettering, but from where and how I can’t begin to guess. I start to ponder the possibility of hiring a language specialist to take a look at it, when I flip another page, and the sight before my eyes halts my every thought.

There are four pictures engraved into the metal page open before my eyes, four pictures of faces that I know well: my son, my daughter, Michael, and Max’s ex-girlfriend Tess. There was a strange design linking the pictures, a line connecting Max’s picture to Tess, and Isabel’s to Michael. I stare at the page for a long time, trying to make sense of the pictures, wondering when they were made, what the links meant, and sighing I turn the page.

The next page leaves me curious indeed, and it leads me to believe that the previous page hints at a romantic connection between each of them. The next pages are engraved with images of Isabel and Tess, obviously pregnant. I feel my anger flare up at the thought of my young, sweet daughter pregnant, when suddenly I remember something…something that I didn’t believe at the time.

“The truth. I... I want to tell you the truth about what's been going on with Max. It's about Tess. Max got Tess pregnant, but she left before the baby was born, so Max may have a child out there somewhere. That night that she left, he was so angry that he just drove all night and pushed his jeep off a cliff because he... Was so crazy. …He would have told you himself. He was just so afraid to disappoint you.”

My eyes instantly fly away from the picture of Isabel and linger on the one of Tess, of an obviously pregnant Tess, and as I remember Isabel’s words I begin to wonder if there is truth behind them…if Max really did get Tess pregnant. Perhaps this book was created after Tess left…or an even more chilling thought crosses my mind.

Perhaps the book is a premonition of what was to be.

I blink the thought from my mind. Isabel is not romantically involved with Michael, and she never has been. She’s happily married to Jesse, and they are quite obviously in love. I am certain that Isabel would never do anything to hurt her husband.

But what about Max?

The idea of Max getting Tess pregnant had always been an absurd thought to me. My son was far too intelligent and responsible to let such a thing happen, and as much as it is obvious that he was involved with Tess, it’s fairly obvious as well that he wasn’t very serious with her. He has never been as intense with her as he is with Liz. Plus he didn’t waste any time in reuniting with Liz after Tess’s disappearance.

For an instant the next step is apparent to me…Isabel told me this for a reason, perhaps I should break down and talk to my son about Tess? But Max doesn’t trust me anymore. It wouldn’t be an easy talk.

Sighing, I close the strange, metallic book, and set it to the side, reaching for the last remaining object in the box: a blue, spiral notebook. Staring at the cover for a long moment, another memory flashes to my mind, of a day over a year earlier, when I had gone to speak to my son, to tell him that I wanted him to see a psychologist…if he couldn’t talk to me about his problems he needed to talk to someone, that was my theory at the time. It was the middle of the summer, he and Liz had broken up a few weeks earlier, and he had been holed up in his bedroom for weeks. This particular time that I went to speak to him, I found him sitting at his desk scribbling in this blue notebook when I walked in to talk to him. I found it curious at the time, but just blew it off as nothing.

Now that very same notebook is sitting in my hands. It is quite possible that I am holding Max’s own personal thoughts written out on paper.

A sense of guilt fills me as I realize that, more so than anything else I’ve done so far, this is me truly intruding on Max’s private life. What I am about to do could quite possibly be unforgivable. Is this a chance I’m willing to take? Is it worth it to finally know what my son is involved in if he will forever hate me as a result?

A million different scenarios rush through my mind’s eye as I hesitate opening the book. In my mind I am confronting Max, telling him that I know the truth, and he is angry, telling at me, telling me he never wants to see me again, and he turns, runs, and never looks back. But then another thought crosses my mind. I see Max hugging me, thanking me, he’s escaped from his demons, he’s free to have the life he wants. He’s out of trouble, out of danger, and he is happier than I’ve ever seen him.

And it is with that thought that I flip open the cover of the notebook.

1959.

I blink at the first page, utterly confused. The secrets of Max’s mind, yet all that’s on the first page is a date in huge numbers across the middle of the page.

Shaking my head I turn the page again, and this time my curiosity is piqued. There’s a photocopied picture taped to the page of a middle-aged man standing in front of a large, dome-shaped building. Beneath the picture, there is a key taped down tightly to the page, and beneath that Max has written:

James Atherton
Marathon, Texas
Died 1959, silver hand print

My eyes fly over the page from top to bottom a second time, studying the picture, the key, and the information written there. It still means nothing to me, just a series of information that was obviously of some importance to Max, but I can’t comprehend why.

The cold hand of fear clenches around my heard as my attention lingers on the word ‘died.’ It confirms nothing, but it raises my fear that Max could be mixed up in something terrible, hiding a crime, involved in a life or death situation.

Shaking the thought from my head, I turn the page again, and this time find a large piece of white paper attached to the notebook, folded shut. I unfold it and find myself face to face with hand drawn images of the same symbols filling the metallic book. I glance down at the book quickly, before studying the drawings again. They’re drawn with precision, dotted across the page, as if in a specific formation. Still, they are gibberish to me, so I flip the page again.

The next page has notes scribbled across the whole page, with a small drawing in the center of the page of a series of five small circles placed in a ‘V’ formation. I study the notes, and find my curiosity piqued from terms like ‘healing stones’, ‘River Dog’, ‘Nasedo’, and ‘Mescalero Indian Reservation’. Beneath the pictures Max has written in large, bold, letters: “A map???”

It occurs to me for the first time that my initial suspicions were wrong. This is not a journal, or a collection of Max's private thoughts, rather a compilation of information…information that means something to Max, but so far means very little to me.
I turn the page and my heart pounds as there is another short list like the one a few pages before:

Sheila Hubble
Pepper’s Café
Silver hand print

I sigh and turn the page, wondering if I am ever going to learn anything from Max’s words. The next page is another drawing, of the metallic football sitting beside me. Beneath it Max has written, “The orb. Why did it want to be found? Why did it use Liz?”

I halt, momentarily shocked as I reread the last line again.

Why did it use Liz?

I glance down at the orb beside me, an inanimate object, metal, heavy…probably nothing more than a fancy paperweight, yet Max talked like it was a living thing, like it made choices, like it had feelings.

The thought alone chills me as I suddenly imagine the impossible.

How could an inanimate object want to be found?

Hesitantly I lean my hand over and carefully trace my fingers over the smooth, metal surface, before tracing the symbol in the top. Picking it up, I study it one last time before determining that if it was a lifelike object, it obviously is asleep now. Setting it down I sigh, and turn the page, still feeling confused, and still lacking any constructive answers.

The next page was fascinating, a myriad of information, even if very little of it made any sense to me. The top half of the page was a sketch of a rock formation in the desert, one that I had seen before in the distance from the highway, of some angry looking rocks jutting straight up into the sky. Underneath the drawing, Max had scrawled the words: ‘The Pod Chamber’, and there was another slightly crude sketch on the page, one that looked strangely familiar to me, and I instantly realized from where.

Grabbing the strange, metal book from beside me, I flipped it open to that strange page that had my children and their friend’s faces carved into it, the lines connecting their images. In Max’s drawing, their faces were absent. Instead there were four circles, each with one of the kid’s names prominent in the center of it. Matching up one page to the next, I find myself strangely at ease at the sight of the one connection between the two images. The names and face’s positions matched up perfectly.

My curiosity grows as I study the connection between the two pages, and my patience thins. I need to find something concrete, and I need to find it fast, as with each passing moment I’m growing more sick and tired of the tiny clues that mean nothing to me.

Irritated, I turn the notebook’s page, and see another drawing, this time of both the orbs beside each other. Underneath Max has labeled them as communicators. My frustration grows and I turn the page again, finding a page covered with writing. Quickly I skim the words, my eyes widening as they begin to penetrate. I reread them again, and again, trying to decide if this is real, if I’m imagining it, or if Max’s notebook is just playing me for a fool.

Our first message from home…

If you are seeing me now, it means that you are alive and well. I take this form because it will be familiar to you, and it will help you to understand what I am about to say.

You have lived before.

You perished in the conflict that enslaves our planet but your essence was duplicated, cloned, and mixed with human genetic materials so that you might be recreated into human beings.

My son, you were the beloved leader of our people. I have sent with you your young bride. My daughter, the man you were betrothed to, and your brother's second-in-command.

Our enemies have come to the Earth. You will know them only by the evil within. Learn enough to use your skills, your knowledge, your leadership to combat the enemy so that you can come back and free us. And that I may once again hold you both in my arms. I live for that moment. Help us. I love you.

I reread the page a dozen times, trying to comprehend what it was that the message said. Words, phrases catch my attention: our planet, duplicated, cloned, human genetic material, recreated into human beings.

It sounds like something out of a bad science fiction movie.

I can’t help chuckling to myself at the thought. It’s impossible, isn’t it, that Max could have a message from another planet, stored in some kind of metallic football-shaped orbs?

But then I remember the F.B.I. and their unnatural interest in my son’s legal case.

Could it be possible that Max stumbled upon some sort of alien artifacts? Did the F.B.I. find out and that was why they were following his case?

But then my eyes return to the metallic book beside me…the one with Max’s face in it.

Your essence was duplicated, cloned, and mixed with human genetic materials so that you might be recreated into human beings.

A shiver passes through me as another idea pops in my head…the possibility crosses my mind as I remember my theory from minutes before that the pictures in the book were a prediction of what was to be.

Could it be possible that my son is the leader that is talked about in the message?

My movements frantic, I find myself quickly thrusting through the remaining pages of the notebook, trying to find any concrete evidence that could possibly prove this theory too.

It is impossible, isn’t it…that Max could be an alien planet’s leader?

I finally pause, as much further into the notebook I come to another page with a long message scrawled in Max’s handwriting.

Translation of the Destiny book:

You are the Royal Four. Zan, the King. Ava, his Queen. Vilandra, his sister. Rath, his (counselor). You were created from the genetic material of your alien predecessors and human subjects. You were given human form so that you could live on the planet, undetected, until the time comes for your return. You have been given the Granolith, a transport between this planet and Antar. You have also been given communications technology, which will allow you to access information from your true home. The chamber containing your hibernation pods has been hidden away from human settlement. It can only be accessed by the four of you. You have been provided with a guardian who will protect you from danger and keep you hidden away from your enemies both human and Antarian.

I stare at this page a long moment, before realizing that I can no longer deny the evidence that is right in front of my eyes. I have found out the truth that Max has been trying so hard to hide from me.

My son is an alien king.

Part 3

It’s late into the night, when I finally step into my home, shutting the door behind me, and slumping back against it in exhaustion. Since realizing the truth about Max I’ve already gone through a number of stages: denial, disbelief, admission, acceptance, fear, admiration…but above all I’m confused. I’m not quite sure what to think about it. I don’t quite understand yet where everything I know falls into place.

I sorted through everything a second time tonight, reading through the entire notebook cover to cover, studying all the artifacts that I now know must be alien. I went over all the information I’ve gathered on the board and from the investigator one last time, and now I know that it’s time to pack it all away.

Have I given up? No. I just don’t need any more answers.

Now the only question remaining, is how to I approach the subject with Max? How do I tell him that I know the one thing he never wanted me to know? How do I explain my reasoning to him in invading his privacy, stealing the secrets that he was obviously trying to hide from me?

And what do I tell Diane?

Almost as if she reads my mind, she suddenly appears in the in the hallway, her robe clutched tightly around her body, as she squints at me through slits in her eyes. She’s obviously been in bed already, and probably has been worried.

I stand up straight, meeting her eyes apologetically.

“Where have you been?” she asks me softly. “I thought you said you were going to come home early tonight?”

“I know.” Guilt rises in me as I realize that during my obsession with one family member, I’ve been neglecting another. “I should have called. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” Diane replied warmly, her worried eyes searching my face in concern. “What happened at work today? You look exhausted.”

“Oh, I am,” I confirm in a weary voice. “But sweetheart, I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Of course, anything,” Diane insists, rubbing her eyes to try to wake herself up. “Is everything okay?”

She’s still concerned about me, and for an instant I wonder if I should do this to her.

Is it wrong of me to tell her what I know?

It will shatter her world, change absolutely everything. I know it did for me. The secrets were tearing me apart, but finally knowing the truth is almost as disturbing as it is a relief. I don’t know if I can do that to her. She’s got enough to worry about just knowing that our children are out there on their own. But to add intergalactic war into everything else? I don’t know if she can take it right now.

What would Max want me to do?

After the disregard I’ve had for his feelings lately, I suddenly find myself wondering how he’s going to take this. He didn’t want us to know in the first place. Now knowing that I know everything, will he be open to telling Diane?

I know that there is no way I will be able to keep this a secret from her. We have always had a strong marriage, always shared everything with each other. It’s been hard enough keeping my investigation a secret from her these last few weeks, but to know the truth and not tell her? I know that I cannot do that.

But can I tell her against Max’s wishes? Can I tell her when I’m not even sure if I know the whole story yet?

And in an instant I know what I have to do. I have to talk to Max first. I need to confirm the facts that I’ve learned. I have to know everything before I am willing to tear apart Diane’s world. But as soon as I can I will tell her everything. I can’t leave her in the dark forever.

“You know what?” I finally reply. “It can wait. I’m really tired. I just want to get to bed.”

~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~

I’ve never been nervous to speak to my own son before, but now, even as I head up the stairs to Michael’s apartment, I’m not quite sure what to say to him.

I tried sleeping all night, but I found myself restless, as I continued to process all of my newfound knowledge about my son.

It’s strange, how one revelation can change your entire outlook on things. I’m afraid that I’m going to knock on the apartment door, Max is going to answer, and I’m not going to recognize him, I’m not going to know him. I’m afraid that I’m going to take one look at him, and I’m instantly going to realize that he’s not the son I raised, but in reality a complete stranger to me.

But as the door swings open, and Michael steps out of the way to reveal Max standing in the kitchen, staring at me in surprise, I know that nothing has changed. I look into his eyes, and I see something there, I can’t quite place my finger on exactly what it is, but in that exact moment, I realize that this thing, this new discovery I’ve made, is nothing new at all. It has always been there, it was always a part of my son. It was just a part of him that Max never allowed me to see.

And it’s clear to me in that second, without a doubt as I look into my son’s eyes, that I’m ready to see this side of him.

“So I’ve got to get to work.” Michael stammers awkwardly. He can obviously feel the thick tension, filling the room. I’m a bit relieved as he makes a hasty departure. This would be more difficult if he stayed. As it is I’m still not sure what to say to Max.

There’s a long moment of tense silence after Michael leaves, before Max awkwardly breaks what has become a long stare off between us.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” he finally asks me in a terse voice.

He’s on edge. It’s painfully obvious to me, and for the first time I begin to realize just how much it affected him to have me investigating him. This is a secret he’s been hiding for his entire life, probably in fear, and then his own family stopped trusting him, his own family wanted the truth that he had been hiding from the whole world.

“Max…I was hoping that you would let me talk to you…about your secrets.”

I can tell that he knew it was coming before I even said it, but even so I can visibly see his entire demeanor change. His body tenses even further, if possible, and I watch as his face hardens. He’s shutting down his emotions, closing himself off as a preparation to avoid the conflict he believes is coming.

“I have nothing to say to you about that,” Max replies shortly, turning his back to me, as if trying to escape my presence. I have him cornered though and he knows it, as he rests both hands on the kitchen counter, his shoulders sagging as he waits for the onslaught of questions I’m guessing that he’s expecting.

“Max…I know the truth.”

He whirls around, facing me again as he stares at me in complete disgust and disbelief, as if he can’t believe I’m trying that tactic.

“That’s impossible,” he exclaims with certainty, smiling smugly at me as he crosses his arms on his chest and stares dead into my eyes. “You’re just trying to get me to tell you the truth. You can’t possibly know whatever it is that you think you know.”

He’s in denial.

“It’s not impossible, Max,” I gently insist. “I know.”

“How?” he asks me, refusing to say it out loud. It doesn’t surprise me. He’s practiced keeping this a secret much longer than I’ve even had the slightest inkling of a suspicion that something isn’t right with him. He won’t admit to anything until I confirm his fears.

As I begin to explain I can see his entire demeanor slowly changing. Reality is hitting him hard, as he begins to feel the defeat.

“I’m not too proud of this son…I only hope that you can forgive me for what I’m about to tell you. I seriously invaded your life, betrayed your trust. I hired a man to follow you, to figure out where you were at all times, take pictures, notes on your actions. I thought I was doing the right thing, protecting you in the long run.”

“I can protect myself better than you know,” Max told me in a cool voice.

“With your gifts?” I take a huge chance in asking him this, and watch closely for his reaction. His face remains closed to me, but I notice his eye twitch a bit in response before he replies.

“So you had someone follow me,” he avoids the subject of his gifts, whatever they may be, with natural ease, returning to what he considers to be the issue at hand. “That’s great, Dad. I can tell how much you trust me. So enlighten me, what did he see?”

“He saw you and Michael, digging out in the desert. He took some pictures for me, and I went out there yesterday…found your hole and dug it up.”

This time Max’s expression does visibly change. His eyes widen, and his shoulders drop in defeat, as if with my one admission he knows he has lost. He says nothing though, so I continue carefully.

“You had some pretty interesting stuff buried out there, Max. Of course, I didn’t understand what half of it was, but then your notebook answered a lot of questions for me."

“What kinds of answers?” Max asked carefully, his eyes studying his feet. He knows he has lost, but I can tell that he is clinging to the hope that maybe I think I know more than I do, which I admit could be true, but I still have to take a shot.

“Well, to be honest it feels a bit ridiculous to even say this, Max,” I chuckle under my breath, realizing that if I’m wrong, if it turns out Max is just writing a science fiction book or something, I’m going to come off sounding a bit like a fool.

I can’t quite bring myself to say ‘you’re an alien’, because I’m not sure if I really understand it all. From his first message from the other planet, they make it sound as if he were engineered, alien with some human genetics. I hope that Max can help me understand that properly. It’s possible that he isn’t exactly an alien, just some planet’s king recreated as a human.

“If I understand the clues right,” I finally say, trying to sound certain even if I’m still a bit confused about it all. “And assuming I put all the pieces of the puzzle together properly, then my understanding is that you were sent here from another planet. Is that right, son?”

Max says nothing, he doesn’t even look at me, just nods ever so slightly in confirmation.

For some reason that response, little as it may be lifted a huge load off my chest, as the last doubt dissipates into nothingness.

But although I am at ease, it is quickly apparent that Max is not okay. His whole body is slightly trembling, and his jaw is clenching slightly…in fear? In anger? I’m not sure, but either way I know I need to help him.

“Max…it’s okay!” I try to comfort him as I can see him visibly falling apart before my eyes. I’ve never known my son to be an emotional mess before. He normally seems to be almost unnaturally in control. As he begins to let it all fly out right before my eyes I find myself second guessing my actions again, wondering if I did the right thing for him.

“No Dad, it’s not okay!” Max explodes, his eyes wild in a way that I’ve never seen them before. “Have you even stopped to think about what you’ve done to yourself? Didn’t you think that maybe there was a reason that I didn’t want you to know?”

“Max…I…” he cuts me off before I can respond.

“Do you realize that you’ve signed your own death warrant? Everyone who becomes a part of this is putting their lives at risk…Alex Whitman is already dead because of it! God, you didn’t, did you? You didn’t even consider the consequences of your own actions.”

“I don’t care, Max,” I insist. His reaction has shocked the hell out of me. I expected him to be upset, but Max is completely out of control. The expression on his face is pure rage, his whole body quivering as if he’s holding himself back from an even more extreme reaction. I take a step towards him, desperate to help him. “Max, it’s okay. I can handle this. I’m not going to run away from you, son.”

“You can handle it, but have you thought about Mom?” Max rages. “You don’t get it, do you? You have destroyed your own life. God, I can’t even stand to look at you! I have to get out of here.”

Max’s final words sting me as he rushes past me and out the door of the apartment. I stand there in shock for a long moment…nothing has gone according to plan. Max’s reaction, quite simply blew my mind. I can’t understand why he’s so afraid of me knowing the truth, but I know that I can’t leave it at this. I turn and rush out of the apartment, down the stairs, and out of the building, but freeze as I stand outside on the sidewalk, staring down the street.

Max is gone.

Part 4

To say that I found Max’s reaction confusing is an understatement.

The way he ran out of here, the harsh words he said…it makes me wonder just how much he has gone through, to react so fearfully, and so unnaturally angry at my admission.

Am I hurt? Yes. Just a little though, because I know there’s probably more going on here than I think. I know that I don’t know everything yet, so I remind myself to be patient.

More than anything though I find myself wondering where Max is, what he’s doing, what he’s feeling. My greatest fear is that I did what I was most afraid of. That I pushed Max to the brink and now I’m never going to see him again.

I know he didn’t mean the harsh things he said to me, but I also know that he probably needs some time to cool. He will come to me when he is ready to…no sooner and no later.

I leave Michael’s apartment not long after Max’s explosion. It’s Saturday, and I don’t have to work, so I head back home to spend the day with Diane.

I’m not surprised when I walk into my home to see my wife sitting on the couch watching some old family movies. Diane has always been a nostalgic woman, lingering on the past, sometimes in happy remembrance, and sometimes in wistful longing for days that have long since passed.

Ever since Max and Isabel moved out, it’s been the latter, and more extreme than usual. She is constantly pulling out our old home videos, watching our children play in their younger, carefree days, and although I know she thinks I haven’t noticed, I’ve heard her cry more than once.

And I haven’t reacted to any of it. I haven’t supported her. I haven’t helped her along the way.

We deal with our grief in different ways. For Diane, she retreats into her shell, cries, watches movies, lingers on what might have been. For me, I filled my life with other responsibilities so I wouldn’t have to linger on what I had lost…in this case, I began investigating Max, grew obsessed with him, in order to channel my frustrations.

Because of it, I wasn’t there for Diane when she needed me.

As I watch her sitting on the couch, her eyes glossy as she stares at Max and Isabel’s younger faces, I swear an oath to myself never to neglect my wife again.

Silently, I make my way over to where my wife is sitting, and she glances up at me with a curious look on her face. I smile softly at her before sitting beside her, and wrapping my arm around her, pulling her close to me, in a comforting embrace. She leans into me, sighing contentedly, as together, we watch our memories fly by before our eyes on the television set.

We sit there together for hours, only moving to change the tape, reliving all of the happy times in our younger days, in our children’s youth. We watch them grow up before our eyes again, and finally, as the day begins to change into the early evening dusk, we let go of our grief and loneliness, and begin to smile, to laugh, to talk and reminisce together.

We are so caught up in the memories, that I almost don’t hear the soft click of the front door opening and shutting…almost.

Diane is talking away and doesn’t even notice the tiny sound. Her back is to the door, so she doesn’t even see as Max steps into the hallway behind her, just standing there silently watching us.

My eyes silently meet his, and we share a long look, as I try to figure out what is going on in his head, but his expression is masked. His face is weary, tired, and I can’t help wondering how he has spent the last few hours since our argument.

It is only moments before Diane notices that my eyes are no longer focused on her, and she follows my eyes, turning to see Max standing in the hallway’s dim light.

“Max!” she exclaims happily. “What are you doing here? Why don’t you join us? Your father and I were just talking about that trip to Florida we took right after you and Isabel came to us. Do you remember that trip?”

“Yeah,” Max confirms, stepping into the room, and sitting in the chair across from us. “That was a great trip…until I sprained my ankle and Isabel got sunstroke.”

“Yes, but aside from all of that. We were a family, Max. We were all together, having fun, and everything was absolutely perfect,” Diane insists with a wistful smile. “Sometimes I miss those days.”

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Max mumbles, running an agitated hand through his hair. “I know that everything going on with me and Izzy lately has been really hard on you.”

“Max…you both are growing up,” Diane presses gently. “It’s something I’m going to have to eventually get used to.”

Diane takes the remote control, and switches off the television, turning all of her attention onto Max. “So Max, what are you doing here tonight?”

Max glances at me with a curious gaze in his eyes, obviously wondering if I said anything to her. I shake my head slightly to indicate that I hadn’t, and watch as Max’s eyes darken nervously, even as he nods in understanding.

“Um…well. I was hoping that we could talk,” Max glances at me one more time, before turning his attention back to Diane. “There are some things going on that you need to know about.”

I find myself suddenly breathing a sigh of relief as it finally strikes my mind that Max fully intends to tell Diane himself, rather than let me do it. It seems that he has accepted that I know the truth now. I have so many questions I want to ask him, but instead I decide to remain silent, as I take Diane’s hand and gently squeeze it in support. I know that what she is about to hear is not going to be easy for her.

She glances at me curiously. “Why do I feel like I’m the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on?”

I bring our linked hands to my lips, kissing her knuckles gently. “Just listen, honey,” I urge her, and she nods for Max to continue.

“Over the last few weeks, Dad has been…investigating me,” Max’s eyes darken angrily, and as I watch him I know that I’m going to have some serious making up to do later. It may take some work for Max to trust me again.

“Philip?” Diane stares at me in shock. “Is this true?”

I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and try to explain myself. “Yes, it’s true. I was worried about Max after what happened in Utah. I could tell he was mixed up in something terrible, and I believed that if I figured out what Max was involved in, I could protect him, save him. What I did was wrong. I pried into parts of Max’s life that I didn’t belong in.” I turn my words and my attention from my wife back to my son, “I’m sorry Max.”

Max nods stiffly. “I’m not going to lie to you anymore, Dad. I’m not okay with what you did to me. You had no right…but what’s done is done. I can’t undo what you discovered, so now we just have to work through it together.”

“What did you discover?” Diane asks me curiously. I could tell that a lot of this is still lost on her, so we move on.

“I found out Max’s secret.”

Diane’s curious gaze shifts from my face back to Max’s, as she silently waits to hear what is about to be revealed to her.

I can see the struggle on Max’s face. He’s fighting his fear, fighting himself, probably because he was so used to keeping this to himself, for the entirety of his life. To actually say it, admit the truth, even to his own mother is obviously a strain on his emotions.

“Dad found out…” Max hesitates, struggling over the words, his gaze shifting back and forth between mine, and his mother’s, resting on mine at last as he finally says the words that I have been waiting to hear fall from his lips ever since discovering the truth the night before. “Dad found out that I’m an alien.”

“What?” Diane gapes in shock, staring at Max like he literally was an alien. “How is that possible? That can’t be true!”

I squeeze her hand again for support.

“Diane…listen to Max,” I plead with her. “Let him tell us his story.”

Max takes a deep breath, rubbing his brow in obvious agitation, before returning his intense gaze to Diane.

“I was in the 1947 crash. We all were, Isabel, Michael and I,” Max clarifies quickly. “We were in some kind of incubation pods…we hadn’t really been born yet. We were just in some kind of stasis, for 42 years, until we broke out of the pods that night that you found us on the highway. In a sense, that was the night that both Isabel and I were born. We’ve literally never known any other family other than you.”

Max suddenly glances at me. “Be patient,” he pleads with me quickly. “I’m going to tell you guys the whole story, and it might take me a bit of time to get to the rest of what you found out. There’s a lot you don’t know.”

I nod in agreement, but Diane isn’t quite so easy. I can just see the curiosity bubbling loose in her eyes.

“What else do you know?” she asks me insistently. “And how is this all possible? There’s no such thing as aliens.” She turns her pleading eyes to Max, “Please don’t tell us any tall tales, Max. I don’t think I could take it.”

“It’s all true Mom,” Max replies calmly. “I’ll prove it to you.”

Max studies our surroundings for a long moment, and for the first time I notice that it has grown dark in the afternoon light. I ponder getting up to turn on the lights so we could see whatever it is that Max decided to do, when suddenly with a flick of Max’s wrist all the lights in the room flicker to life.

I can feel Diane tensing in surprise beside me, but can barely acknowledge it as I feel my own heart pounding in my chest.

My eyes are glued to Max…to his own intense eyes as he stares right back at me. His gaze is overwhelming, a bit unnerving, as I can feel it beating down on me. My eyes just widen in shock as Max continues, dimming all of the lights in the room with nothing but a tiny gesture of his hand, before leaning to the lamp beside him, and placing one hand flat on the base of the lamp, in clear sight of both Diane and I.

He breaks my gaze, focusing his attention on the lamp, and suddenly the light flares to life, dancing around us as it changes colors from white, to green, to blue, to red, over and over. The dancing colors light up Max’s face in an unnatural gleam, and it appears that his hand is glowing slightly.

I can’t even form coherent thoughts as I watch my son do the impossible. All I can do is watch, soak it all in, feel the air sizzling around me.

But in this moment, as my mind races a mile a minute…nothing penetrates except for one thought, simple as it might be, as Max removes his hand from the lamp and quite suddenly all returns to normal.

I’ve never known my son at all, have I?

Part 5

“How…how did you do that?” Diane stammers, breaking the silence, as she stares at our son with wide eyes. “That…it was…Max, it’s impossible.”

“Impossible for a human,” Max corrects softly, in a soft voice. “But not for an alien.”

There was something in his tone, something that made me study Max even closer. A hint of…was it sadness? Reluctant acceptance? Fear?

And suddenly I realize, all in that moment, exactly why Max has never told us. He’s afraid of our reactions. He believes that we won’t accept him for who and what he is. He doesn’t think we love him that much. And now, because of our shocked reactions, he believes that his fears were legitimate.

My heart goes out to my son. There isn’t even any doubt in his eyes, like he knows his fate has been sealed. Yet, unlike this morning at Michael’s apartment, he’s not running. He’s sitting here, waiting to face the music. He’s incredible…I know that for certain. So responsible, so wise for his age, yet so young in so many ways. He knows so much, things that most of the world still denies, but at the same time he knows so little…like the undying love of parents to their children. This time, this parent needs to make things better.

“Max,” I start gently, trying to make my voice as comforting as possible. “I think I speak for both your mother and I when I tell you that nothing is going to change between us because of all of this. We’re still your parents, and you’re still our son. Your mother is just a bit shocked…this is a lot to take in at once, you understand that. I’ve had a little more time to get used to the idea, but she hasn’t. Please, don’t give up on us yet. We want to…we need to know everything.”

Max meets my eyes again, and there’s a nervous light shining in his gaze. Still, he nods shortly, indicating that he will continue.

“Max…how did you do that?” Diane asks in a shaky voice.

“With my gifts, Mom,” Max responds softly. “With my powers. You should know a little about that, Mom. Remember the bird I healed? Have you forgotten about the kitchen fire? You know I’m capable of doing things that normal people can’t do.”

I watch as Max and Diane share a long, intense gaze, before she nods slightly.

“What about Liz Parker?” Diane softly asks. “Did you heal her too?”

It’s a while before Max replies. I can see him struggling again, and I can tell that this openness with us is something he’s still not quite used to. His eyes wander, as he studies his shoes for a long time, before staring off into space and distantly answering.

“I loved Liz since the first time I laid my eyes on her.” Max’s voice is awed, and something in his gaze hints that he is reliving that moment in his mind, remembering every detail about it. “I was afraid to admit it, afraid to tell her how I felt…because of what I was,” he continued in a soft tone. “I knew that if she ever found out that I was so different, she would turn away from me…she could never love someone like me. I mean, I’m not even human.”

Max pauses and I could see the pain in his eyes as everything obviously changed for him. “But then, she was dying, right in front of my eyes. She was dying, and I could save her. She could live because of what I am…and there wasn’t even an instant of doubt in my mind. I didn’t care that the room was full of witnesses. I didn’t even care if I died as a result of it. All that mattered in that moment was Liz…saving Liz. So I did.”

His eyes refocus on mine, and he gives me a shy smile. “That was what started everything…just loving Liz. Michael and Isabel wanted to kick my ass for it…but I couldn’t help myself.”

There is a wistful sadness in his tone that catches my attention, and I know without a doubt that there is so much more coming, so I gently push him on.

“What happened?” I ask him.

Max pauses, studying me closely before continuing.

“Are you sure you want to know? Because there’s something you’re both going to have to understand before we start this.”

Max leans forward in his seat, his eyes burning with a fire that I’m not used to seeing in my son.

“There are things about my life that you can’t control and you can’t change no matter how much you may want to. You can’t change the fact that I’m an alien. You can’t change the fact that I have powers that most people don’t. And you can’t control the fact that there are people out there that want to hurt me. It’s just a part of my life, and if you’re going to have problems dealing with that then I don’t want to tell you another word, because it’s just going to be that much harder for you to adjust to this.”

Max falls silent, studying us both carefully as if he’s just waiting desperately to hear that we don’t want him to continue. There is a long moment of silence as we both digest this information.

His words strike a chord with me, as he and I both know that the reasoning behind all of my actions has been to protect him…and now that I know he’s telling me that there are things I can’t protect him from. It will be hard to watch Max and know I can’t do anything to help him, but the need to know everything drives me on.

“What happened?” I ask Max, more firmly this time. His eyes widen a bit in surprise, and he meets my eyes, silently pleading with me not to ask him to continue, trying to determine if I truly mean to learn everything.

“We’ll deal with the consequences later, Max. Right now your mother and I need to know all that we can know,” I plead with him softly. “Tell us…what happened after you healed Liz Parker.”

“The F.B.I. happened,” Max finally explains after a long moment of hesitation. His voice is wavering uneasily as he tries to tell his story.

“Do you remember Ms. Topolsky, the guidance counselor at school who mysteriously disappeared? Well, she was F.B.I., special unit, sent here to watch me and confirm the F.B.I.’s suspicions about the shooting at the Crashdown. Her disappearance wasn’t actually very mysterious at all. The F.B.I. pulled her out when we discovered the truth about her identity.”

“The F.B.I. was watching you?” Diane gasps beside me. I can feel her tensing so I wrap an arm around her to ease her fears…and my own.

I knew that whatever was happening with Max was big, possibly involving the F.B.I., but to hear that Max was being watched by the F.B.I. almost two years earlier, long before I had any idea that anything was going wrong for him, sends a chill down my spine.

“They were watching us for months,” Max confirms softly. His eyes soften on his mother, and I can tell that he’s upset by how much this is already upsetting her.

Max surprises me by standing and crossing the room to kneel in front of where Diane sat on the couch, covering her hands with his own in a comforting gesture.

She meets his loving eyes and gives him a gentle smile. “I’m okay,” she tries to assure him, but he can obviously see right through it.

“Mom,” Max starts gently. “I know that this is hard for you to hear, and I’ll be honest with you…it is going to get a lot worse. But stop and think about this for a moment. Yes…it’s been unbelievably hard and dangerous for me these past few years…but I’ve made it through all of this. I’ve come out on top. I’ve survived.”

Max hesitates a moment before continuing. “I know I can’t tell you that you don’t need to worry about me, because you’re my parents. You love me and you’re going to worry about me no matter what I’m doing, whether it’s a date with Liz or an alien invasion, but for whatever reassurance this gives you…so far I’ve been able to take everything they’ve thrown at me, and I don’t intend to stop handling it now.”

Diane smiles softly, Max’s words obviously hitting a chord with her, as she leans forward and presses a light kiss to his forehead.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers to him, before pulling her hands from his and wiping her teary eyes dry. Max takes a step back, sitting on the coffee table across from the couch and folding his hands in his lap as he continues.

“The F.B.I. watched us for months. There were three or four different agents, always lurking around wherever we went, always watching and waiting for one of us to make a mistake, reveal our identities to them…but we never did, so they just kept watching. After Topolsky left they became less obvious…for a while we forgot that they were there and things just kind of settled down. We were researching some leads on our past, evidence that there might have been another alien besides us.”

“Was there?” Diane asks Max curiously.

“Actually there were two others. Tess and her father, who was a shape shifter. We didn’t expect Tess, it was her father who we were looking for,” Max explains quickly. “But they weren’t quick to reveal themselves to us. Tess was acting very suspiciously…she was doing things to my mind with her powers, and we thought she was the one we were looking for, so we started following her. That was how we found out. We caught her off guard and saw her using her powers, confronted her, and she told us everything.”

“They knew about the F.B.I. too,” Max continues with a sigh. “In fact, they knew a lot more about the F.B.I. than we did…and Nasedo, what we called the shape shifter, was determined to eliminate them. He was…cold, callous. He had no misgivings about killing people. So he turned himself into me and tried to lure the F.B.I. out by kidnapping Liz. I didn’t understand what he was doing, so I followed to save Liz…”

Max’s voice starts trailing off, and I could tell he wasn’t paying attention to us anymore, just lost in the memories. There is a haunted look in his eyes, like something terrible happened that night. My heart starts pounding as he continues.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to her, and I wouldn’t take it back, even now. If they had gotten her instead of me…I can’t even imagine putting her through what I went through.”

Max’s eyes were tearing up, and his voice was clenching in agony. “Max…what happened?” I ask him carefully, knowing that he doesn’t realize quite what he is and isn’t saying. “What did you have to go through?”

Max turns his head and meets my eyes, causing my heart to stop at the dead look in his eyes.

“The F.B.I.…” he finally grates out in a raspy voice. “They captured me that night…and tortured me the whole next day.”

Part 6

It’s a hard moment when you realize just how much you lost control of your own child’s life somewhere down the line. As I look back at Max’s life I wonder exactly when it happened for me. I wonder if I ever had any control over his life at all. There are just so many questions, so many doubts.

A year and a half ago, my son was tortured by the F.B.I.…my son, a kid, a minor who I should have been protecting. I should have been able to stop them, yet at the time I was completely clueless to all of this.

And what’s worse is that when he came back to us, I didn’t even know. I could tell something was wrong with him, he was depressed, carrying around piles of baggage on his shoulders, but I never knew it was anything this heavy.

I sent him to a psychologist, hoping that if he couldn’t talk to me, he could talk to someone. Had I really been that naïve back then to think that Max’s problems were the kinds of things he could talk about? Now I just feel stupid in retrospective. Of course the doctor didn’t help him…you can’t just sit down in his chair and tell him that his own government tortured him.

Max is still talking, his shoulders slumped, his eyes glued to the floor. He refuses to make eye contact, completely absorbed in his past pain, just mumbling away softly.

“When they took me she was right within my reach, and they came from behind, slamming me up against the glass. I could see Liz behind it. Nasedo was taking her away, and I couldn’t even struggle. They injected me with something, and loaded me into their vehicle. I was barely conscious when they wheeled me into their facility, and I passed out soon after.

“When I awoke I was in a white room, and there were voices talking to me over a speaker. Faceless voices, pounding me with questions I didn’t know the answers to. They knew what I was, knew my strengths, knew my weaknesses, but they didn’t know that I didn’t know anything about myself. They even knew more about me than I did. And when I couldn’t answer their questions, they…” Max’s voice started cracking, and his whole body started trembling. “They started hurting me. I’ve never known pain like that before.”

In a swift, unexpected motion, Max pushes his shuddering body to a stand, turning and stumbling away from us before stopping halfway across the room and falling to his knees, sobbing loudly.

“God…they wouldn’t stop hurting me,” Max cries in anguish, his loud, gulping sobs the only sound filling the room as Diane and I stare at him in complete shock. Neither of us are used to this, to seeing our normally in control son break down so completely. Neither of us has ever seen him fall apart like this, and we are both frozen in our seats, unsure at first how to react.

Diane is the first to move. Max’s earlier words must have calmed her more than I thought, because in an instant she is up from the couch, crouching over Max as she kneels beside him and wraps her arms around him. He is instantly in her embrace, his face buried against her chest as violent tremors course through his body. Diane strokes his head comfortingly, whispering soothing words in his ear, while I watch them through tearful eyes.

~~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~~

Time is a funny thing.

Sometimes time can speed up, and pass so quickly that you don’t even know where the days went. That’s the way that Max and Isabel’s childhood was to me. It came and went so quickly, and I find myself constantly grasping at the last remaining strands of their youth so often, only to have them slip through my fingers with the harsh reality of my children’s lives catching up to me…Isabel’s marriage…Max moving out.

But sometimes, the clock can seem to completely stop, and time stands still, a single moment lasting for an eternity. Five minutes can seem to be hours, and hours can seem to be days. A single moment can stay trapped like a photograph, an image burned in your mind for all of time.

For me, the sight of Max’s emotional breakdown in his mother’s arms is a moment that I will never forget. I’ll never be able to erase it from my memory.

It seems to last forever, hours, days, as Max shakes in Diane’s arms, but then almost as suddenly as it began, it ends, and Max is unlocking himself from his mother’s embrace. He pulls away, wipes his eyes, and takes a few deep breaths, before turning back to us.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes bashfully, his cheeks turning slightly pinker than they already were in their emotionally puffy state.

“Max…it’s okay,” Diane responds gently. “You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“Yes I do,” Max replies firmly, moving back to his perch on the coffee table. “The others count on me to be the one in control. If I lose it we’re all dead.”

“But they didn’t always have you, Max,” Diane reminds him. “You weren’t in control when the F.B.I. had you I’m assuming.”

“No, you’re right,” Max replies with a wry smile. “I certainly wasn’t in control then…far from it in fact.”

“How did you escape?” I ask Max softly, speaking up for the first time in a while. He glances my way, and sighs, rubbing his head awkwardly before continuing.

“Everyone worked together to break me out,” Max explains to us. “But the F.B.I. was still after us. So we tricked the head of the special unit into walking right into our hands. We trapped him, and he struggled, tried to kill me, but…but Michael killed him first. Nasedo shape shifted into his form and took his place in the F.B.I., ordering the unit off our tales, and the F.B.I. hasn’t been a problem since.”

“Except in Utah?” I wonder aloud.

“Not even in Utah.” Max clarifies quickly. “The only interest the F.B.I. had in Utah was to protect what they were hiding in that basement. They knew nothing about me, other than that I had an interest in it. Even that was just suspicions of theirs though. They have no real evidence on me.”

“What was in that basement, Max?” I press without a moment’s hesitation. It seems like the right time, like Max is finally willing to answer the questions that have been plaguing my mind for months. “Why did you rob that store?” I suddenly find myself feeling desperate…pressing on without even stopping to think about what I’m asking. “What happened to Tess? And why did you destroy the jeep?”

Max chuckles and shakes his head in amusement. “Dad…we’ll get there. There’s a lot more that kind of leads up to that stuff. Patience.”

I nod for him to continue, but can’t help noticing Max’s present appearance. Only minutes earlier he was an emotional wreck, but now he seems to have it together again. The half-smile on his face, the way he laughs at my eagerness, the way he’s sitting, looking us both straight in the eye. The only hint of his meltdown that remains is the puffiness under his already drying eyes.

My son is a master of control. Something he’s probably taught himself very carefully over the years.

“When I escaped from the F.B.I. we got our hands on the second orb…which I’m guessing you found in the desert, Dad. Liz and I had found the first one a few months earlier. The orbs were communicators. They only worked together, so when I escaped from the F.B.I. we decided to test them out. We activated them, and it turned out that they contained a hidden message for us.”

Max pauses and takes a deep breath, hesitating before continuing.

“The message was from our birth mother. She told us who we were, why we were here…questions we never knew the answers to before that day. Answers that to this day I sometimes still wish I had never gotten, because it wasn’t anything like what I expected to hear. It changed everything for me.”

“What…what did you learn Max?” Diane stammers.

“I learned that I was created for a purpose…created being the key word there. I wasn’t born…at least in this life. I lived before, back on my home planet, and I died there. The thing is…I was important to them. I was their leader, and my death basically sent the whole planet into chaos. So they recreated me by taking my alien essence and mixing it with human genetic materials and then sent me to earth to grow up safely so that I can return and save them.”

I’m silent. This isn’t news to me since I read the transcript of his mother’s message in his notebook, but I imagine it’s nothing like what Diane was expecting to hear. She is frozen beside me as well, staring at Max in absolute disbelief.

Max notes both of our reactions after a long moment of awkward silence before stumbling on.

“I know it sounds like something out of a bad science fiction movie or something…but it’s all true. It’s who I am, and I can’t change that, as much as I may want to. We learned other things as well. Isabel and Michael were engaged in their past lives, and Tess…well, Tess was my wife. And she was determined to be with me again in this life even though I didn’t feel anything for her.”

Max sighed, raking a hand through his hair before softly admitting the final blow to his life that day.

“That was when Liz left me,” he mumbles sadly. “She was determined to do what was best for me and in her mind that was leaving me to be with Tess…as if I wanted Tess at all. She left for the whole summer, and I was miserable the entire time. I spent all summer trying to figure out ways to win her back…but none of them worked. She finally broke my heart in an attempt to get me to back off…and it worked. She pretended that she had moved past me…that she had gotten involved with someone else.

“That was when I stupidly gave up on her…and that was when Tess started wiggling her way into my life.”

Part 7

Max’s face contorts in disgust at the mention of Tess’s name, and for the first time a thought strikes my mind.

Max never once showed any remorse for Tess’s disappearance.

Normally when a friend, an ex-girlfriend at that, leaves town, you talk about them in remembrance, you miss them, you wish they were still there. It’s one of the reasons why Tess’s disappearance has always seemed so mysterious. Tess left, and everyone went on with their lives as if she had never even come to Roswell.

Max’s reaction reminds me once again that we still don’t know exactly what happened to her. I feel a chill fill my heart again as I remember the theory I had that I’ve been desperately trying to ignore…

Is Tess even still alive?

Quickly I push the thought from my head. I may not have known my son as well as I thought I did all of these years, but I still hold myself to the belief that my son is a good person…that he would never murder someone.

There are still so many questions…

“Tell us about Tess,” I prod Max gently. “Tell us what happened with her…where she is now.”

Max sighs, rubbing his forehead awkwardly, “I guess now is as good a time as any.” He pauses for a long moment, closing his eyes, as if he’s trying to clear his head or focus his thoughts. Diane and I both watch him, patiently waiting for him to continue. When he reopens them and meets our gazes again, I suck in a breath in shock at the haunted look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Max apologizes softly. “The whole situation with Tess is…difficult to say the least. Tess is not a good person, and the effect she had on our whole group still has lasting effects today.

“I guess the best place to start is by explaining to you a little about our powers. A lot of the basic stuff we can do is the same…manipulating molecular structures for example, like what I did with the lamp. We can all do that stuff, but each of us has certain powers we can do better than anyone else. For me it’s healing. The others can all do the basic scrapes and bruises, but none of them are capable of saving a life like I am. Isabel can see into people’s dreams…and Michael can…uh, well…blow things up very well.”

“What is Tess’s power?” Diane asks gently.

“We call Tess’s power mind warping. Basically she can make people see whatever she wants them to see using her mind. The problem is that this is a massive amount of power, and Tess wasn’t responsible enough to have it in her hands. She was power hungry and she used this power to her heart’s content, even to hurt those of us around her.

“When Tess first arrived in Roswell at the end of sophomore year, she focused all of her attention on me…on using her powers to seduce me into leaving Liz for her. It was…disturbing,” Max pauses, closing his eyes and shaking his head, like he was trying to shake the memories out of his head. “It was one of the most disturbing experiences of my life. I would be sitting in class, and then suddenly I wouldn’t just be sitting in class, I’d be making out with Tess on top of the teacher’s desk. Or I’d be kissing Liz, and she would turn into Tess.

“I felt…dirty, all the time. It was as if I was cheating on Liz mentally, against my will, and I just couldn’t keep myself under control. I thought I was going crazy…until we found out who Tess really was. Then it all began to come together.”

“If Tess was doing such horrible things to her, why did you keep her around?” Diane suddenly asks, studying Max thoughtfully. “What changed with her?”

“Well…that’s the thing. Nothing changed with her, we just got careless,” Max explains simply. “The moment we discovered that she was like us, we were blinded by the fact that there was another one of us…someone who knew a lot more about who we were and where we came from. She knew answers to questions that we had spent years searching for with absolutely no leads. We quickly forgot all the bad stuff and just accepted Tess into our circle.” Max scowls down at his feet for a long moment before continuing, “It was the stupidest thing we had ever done, forgetting how untrustworthy she was.”

Watching Max talk about Tess, I find myself awed by how many secrets there are, how much we were unaware of all these years. Never once in all the time that she spent in this house, would we have ever guessed the darkness that seemed to lie beneath Tess Harding’s surface. Max’s point was coming across clear though…she had the perfect situation with Max and his friends, and took advantage of it to every end possible. Even Max hadn’t been able to see through her.

But something more had to have happened there. What had led her to leave Roswell?

I voice my question aloud. “Max…I don’t understand something though. What more happened with Tess? What happened between you and Tess? You did date, right?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Max replies hesitantly. “We spent a lot of time together. Tess was trying to help me remember my past life. To be honest, I don’t know anymore whether any of it was actually memories from me or whether she was just mindwarping me into thinking I was remembering things, but at the time it was very exciting, so we formed a strange relationship based on those memories.”

“When exactly did all of this happen, Max?” I ask him curiously. “I’ve never been able to figure out exactly when you two started dating.”

“It was right around the prom,” Max answers quickly, frowning in retrospective as he continued. “When I was with Tess, it was about as different from my relationship with Liz as night and day. It was…mechanical. I guess that’s the best way to describe it. I only touched her when I needed to touch her. I only kissed her when absolutely necessary. It was just like going through the movements I knew I was supposed to for a relationship, but there was no heart behind any of it at all.”

Max pauses, chuckling under his breath before continuing. “You know, to be honest I can’t figure out for the life of me why I was with her…” his voice grows serious, his eyes distant, as the life slips out of his voice. “Except for one thing. It was right around the time that Alex died. Everything was so messed up then. Liz and I were getting along worse than we ever had before, and it was killing me. Isabel was thinking of running away, and Michael was basically nonexistent because he was so busy taking care of Maria. I had no one except Tess.”

“Then it happened,” Max’s voice is lifeless, and I can’t help watching him even more closely as his eyes drop to his feet in shame. “I was at my absolute weakest that night. I was distant from everyone. Isabel and I had gotten into a horrible fight that morning, followed closely by the worst fight Liz and I have ever had. I just felt lost…I didn’t even know who I was anymore. And Tess knew it, she knew how weak I was, and she took advantage of the moment, and seduced me into sleeping with her,” Max chokes out the last words in disgust, before crying out, “It was the worst mistake I have ever made in my life and I will never, ever stop wishing that I could take it back.”

“Isabel told us the truth,” I gasp under my breath, suddenly realizing what Max is getting at. “Isabel told us the truth when she said that you got Tess pregnant.”

Max looks up from his feet and stares up at me through tearstained eyes and nods silently.

“I couldn’t believe it…I was certain that she was lying…that you couldn’t possibly be that irresponsible.”

“I was,” Max chokes out the confirmation again. His eyes are back on his feet, his head hung in shame.

I can tell just by looking at him that the baggage of his mistake has been weighing heavily on his shoulders. As much as my initial desire is to shake him and tell him how disappointed I am in him, I know that he’s already disappointed enough in himself…that he feels the consequences of his actions. I can’t make it any harder on him.

Diane is silent beside me, frozen in shock, her eyes wide as she stares at Max. Her reaction is the same as mine. She couldn’t believe that it was even possible…but now that she has confirmation it’s like a slap in the face to her, by her reaction.

I quickly try to move past the event. We need to not linger on it, for Max’s sake. So I ask him another question.

“What happened to Tess, Max? Where is your child?”

Max finally looks up and smiles wryly at us. “Well…that’s a whole story in itself actually. We found out quickly that Tess was pregnant because the baby was killing her from the inside out. Apparently, alien babies don’t deal well with the earth’s atmosphere…which is probably why we were in pods until we were six. Tess needed to get off the planet, and Liz, Michael, and Maria actually found the key to getting away. It was in the translation of the destiny book…which I’m guessing you read?”

He looks at me pointedly and I remember the metallic book hidden in the box in my office, which I’m assuming he’s speaking of. I nod in affirmation, remembering the translation which answered so many questions for me…and Max too it seemed.

“It turned out Alex had been working on the translation before he died. So we were set to leave the planet for good…all four of us.”

“You were going to leave us?” Diane asks hoarsely. “Without even telling us?”

“We…we were going to tell you,” Max stammers. “We were afraid you would try to stop us…and it would be too hard to tell you everything before we went…so we made a videotape explaining everything.”

“Max…that’s not good enough!” Diane exclaims, her cheeks pinking angrily. “We love you, Max. Leaving us like that…without even saying goodbye. What if something went wrong with the tape? What if we thought you were kidnapped and called the police or something? What if…” Diane struggles to get herself under control before finally crying out. “Max we would have never seen you again!”

“I know,” Max affirms softly. “And I’m sorry…but we didn’t end up going, that’s what matters now. We’re here and we’re not going anywhere. We can’t go anywhere as a matter of fact. We lost our only way home. We’re here to stay.”

“Why didn’t you go?” I press Max on, curious to find out what changed, and of course, where Tess is.

“We found out the truth just in the nick of time, thanks to Liz, Kyle, and Maria.”

“The truth about what?” I ask.

“The truth about Tess’s true nature. They figured out that Tess murdered Alex…that Tess killed one of our best friends. I was literally sleeping with the enemy.”

Part 8

I could physically feel Max’s disgust in himself radiating throughout the room, and suddenly it all begins to come clear to me. It makes sense why Max hates his ex-girlfriend so thoroughly, why nobody looked back when she disappeared.

Nobody wants to remember Tess Harding because she took something away from them all…something deep, important, and absolutely irreplaceable.

She took Max’s innocence. She took Isabel’s friend. And in a lot of ways she took all of their youth.

I want to tell Max that everything would be okay, that he could let go of his hatred, that it is long over, but I couldn’t find the words. What Tess did to them all is not okay. What Max lost to Tess he could never get back. And no matter how many times I could tell Max that he shouldn’t be disgusted in himself, just in her, I know it won’t do my stubborn son any good.

Max has already been holding onto his feelings for so long, hiding them beneath the surface, and trying his best to ignore it, when even he knows that it will never truly be forgotten. It will take time, and lots of emotional healing to get past what Tess had done to him.

“It turned out that Tess had been working against us all along,” Max continues in a pained voice. “She had made a deal with our enemies back home…to get pregnant and deliver us back to our planet to be murdered. Then our enemies could raise my son as a false figurehead and regain control of the planet, and we would be dead and completely out of the picture.”

Diane gasps beside me, and I shake my head in disbelief, shocked at how close we came to losing our children, and not even knowing it.

“We were literally walking into a death trap,” Max emphasizes. “And if it wasn’t for Liz we would all be dead right now.”

“What did you do to Tess when you found out the truth?” I press anxiously, wondering again if my earlier suspicions of Tess’s demise were correct. It doesn’t seem quite so unbelievable anymore if Max had killed her…after all she almost murdered him

“I should have killed her,” Max tells me flatly. “I wanted to kill her, but I couldn’t. She was carrying my child. I couldn’t murder my own child. So I sent her home without the rest of us. We stayed, and she left.” Max pauses, taking a deep breath before laying the main point on the line for us, “It was our only way home.”

Max sighs, raking a hand through his hair awkwardly. “I realized almost immediately that my decision had been a stupid one. Yes, Tess couldn’t be trusted, but she was also carrying my child. I sent my son alone into a war zone with no one to count on except his murderous mother. God…I can’t even imagine what he’s already had to go through in his short life.”

“He’s already been born?” Diane asks curiously, calculating the time in her head “How is that possible, Max? If what happened between you and Tess happened around the time of prom, then it’s only been seven months since you....” Diane trailed off awkwardly, obviously still having trouble speaking about what had happened. “Your child shouldn’t be due until January,” she finally determines.

“We’re talking about an alien pregnancy, mom, not a human one,” Max corrects her gently. “Normal laws of human development don’t apply. The baby was already growing fast before we had decided to leave. We estimated that he would probably be born in about a month. And I felt it…the day he was born.”

“Wait, you felt it?” I exclaim loudly, barely believing my ears. I have a feeling I still have a lot to learn about alien abilities.

“I can sometimes connect with my son…he send me visions, stuff like that,” Max explains softly. “The first time it happened was just a few weeks after Tess left. I was with Liz…we were trying to fix things between us, and it just happened. I could feel that he had been born, that he needed me. It was the first time I realized that by sending Tess home I had literally abandoned my child to his fate.”

“I felt so helpless!” Max cries sadly. “I needed to do something to try to get him back, anything. I guess you could say I grew obsessed with trying to find another way home. I was constantly searching through every alien resource we had trying to find more information. Something…anything to give me a lead towards finding my son. Searching through Tess’s things one day, I found one.”

“You found another way home?” Diane asks fearfully. I glance at my wife, knowing that the worst possible images of losing Max were already flying through her mind. Gently I take her hand and squeeze it in support as Max continues.

“Yes,” Max confirms. “Or at least I thought I did. It didn’t turn out to be as easy as I hoped. Tess had notes on our original ship…the one that crashed in 1947. The government had been studying it for years. They were fixing it up, trying to figure out the technology. It was a top secret project…no one was supposed to know…but Nasedo did and he left the information with Tess. I needed to find it…I wanted to use it to go home and get my son back. It took weeks of research, but we finally tracked down a list of possible hiding places for the ship. That was what Liz and I were doing in Utah.”

My curiosity piqued as we’re finally getting to the part of the story that led me to start this search for the truth, I look up, and meet Max’s eyes. Slowly the pieces come together in my head.

“The storage shed, under the convenience store…” I realize suddenly. “The ship was down there, wasn’t it?”

“It was down there the day Liz and I robbed that store,” Max confirms. “I saw it with my own eyes. We didn’t actually steal anything that day. Liz was just distracting the clerk, while I went down there to check it out. We were going to be fast…we never planned to get caught. But I guess it proves that things don’t always go according to plan. The police arrived much earlier than we ever anticipated.”

“It wasn’t there when you went back though,” I realize. “The government figured out what you were up to.”

“They were suspicious enough at least,” Max agrees. “They moved the ship, and I had to start over from scratch all over again. That was why I went to Los Angeles. I had another lead that took me there.”

“Did that one pay off?” I ask curiously.

“Actually, it did,” Max laughs bitterly. “I found the ship again, and I gained access to it long enough that I almost left in it…until discovering that it didn’t have enough juice in it to fly more than two feet. It was a dud, a complete waste of my time. We robbed that store, put our futures in jeopardy for absolutely nothing.” Max pauses, his eyes downcast, “I just feel stupid in retrospective. I was acting like an idiot.”

In that exact instant I’m staring at my son, the weight of his very complicated world heavy on his shoulders, and suddenly it all doesn’t seem quite so complicated anymore. I had thought I had lost my son, that I didn’t know him anymore, that he was a complete stranger, and now as I look at him, the emotions that are clear on his face are slightly reminiscent of my own feelings.

I thought I had lost my son, so I went to crazy lengths to try to get him back, to find out the pieces of his life that he wasn’t allowing me to be a part of. I did some things that I’m not very proud of…all because I loved my son and I wanted him back. Just as Max has made so many mistakes to fight for the life of his own child.

Max is me…and I am Max.

We’re the same.

My voice is soft, gentle even to my own ears as I softly reply to him.

“Sometimes a man will do crazy things for the love of his child.”

Max’s head jolts up and he stares intensely at me for a long moment, before nodding in agreement. We don’t say anything more, but I know we understand each other now.

And for the first time all day I begin to realize that everything is going to be okay from now on between us.

I have my son back…maybe for the first time.

Part 9

The bell on the Crashdown door rings loudly through the café as Diane and I enter the restaurant that has been such a major part of our children’s lives. Ever since they were young they always seemed to be hanging around in the alien themed restaurant just to waste time and be with their friends, and this morning is no exception. Max and Isabel are sitting there at the bar counter with all of their friends, laughing and talking in happy, carefree tones as Jeff Parker serves out their breakfasts.

It is early in the morning, New Year’s Day, and without Max or Isabel around to keep us on our toes until midnight, Diane and I called it an early night. We rarely go out to eat, unlike our children, but it is a holiday. Holidays call for breaks in our regular routines.

I meet Max’s eyes across the room as I walk in, and he nods to me in solemn greeting, before returning to whatever conversation he is involved in. Diane and I take a seat in a booth across the room from them, not wanting to intrude in their happy moment.

Ever since the day that Max told us the truth, over a month earlier, there has been a sort of quiet alliance between me and my son, an unspoken understanding and respect that we have both found since we realized how similar we are in so many ways. We’ve never spoken of my search again. Once I learned the truth, Max decided it was forgotten, in the past. He seems content to move forward and live his life in the present, rather than lingering on either of our past wrongs.

Liz pops up from her stool and strides towards us purposefully, with a broad smile on her face, pulling my attention away from my reflections. Max’s girlfriend is out of uniform, but still seems to take it upon herself to take our order.

“Hi Mrs. Evans, Mr. Evans!” she greets us cheerfully.

“Hello Liz,” Diane smiles warmly at the girl who accepted our son and supported him at his lowest. “Did you and Max have a nice New Year’s?”

“Oh, well mine wasn’t all that great,” Liz replies with an honest laugh. “I got stuck working and then babysitting a sick Michael. But I know Max had a memorable night last night. I’ll let him tell you all about it though.”

“I’m sure he will,” I chuckle, still slightly amazed to realize that I am sure that he will. In the weeks since Max told us everything, our bond with our son has grown stronger than it ever has been before. Max no longer seems mysterious or reclusive…he talks to us about everything, and we support him however we can, or talk him down from doing things that are a little too extreme. A week earlier while talking out a new lead with Diane and I, Max admitted that he liked having our opinion on things…that we help keep him grounded.

It has been one of the most heartwarming feelings in the world to Diane and I to know that our children still need us.

Liz walks away with our order and is quickly replaced by Isabel, sliding into the booth across from us, leaning forward and greeting us with quick, loving kisses on the cheek before taking her seat.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad,” she greets us happily. “How was your New Year’s?”

“Oh, nothing special,” Diane laughs. “You know us boring, old fogies…partying just isn’t our style. We just went to bed early. How about you sweetheart? Did you have a good night?”

“Yeah,” Isabel replies cheerfully. “I actually did. Kyle and I hung out…Jesse’s flight got canceled so he didn’t get back until this morning.”

“Oh sweetheart!” Diane exclaims. “I’m so sorry! You had a big evening planned with him, didn’t you?”

Isabel sighs, glancing across the room wistfully to where her husband chatted with Kyle before returning her focus to us.

“I was going to tell him the truth last night,” she admits. “Oh God…I want to tell him so badly! I’m sick of having this secret between us! But every time I decide that the time is right, something happens and it doesn’t work out.”

“Maybe the timing was just wrong,” I suggest to her gently. “If you were meant to tell him last night then he would have been there. Maybe fate was just stepping in and holding you back.”

“Yeah…maybe,” Isabel sighed. “Thank you for convincing Max and Michael to let me tell him.”

“Well somebody had to show those boys where their priorities should be!” I insist stubbornly. “I can’t believe you listened to them in the first place. A marriage based on lies is no marriage at all!”

“Well, thank you all the same for teaching them that lesson! Next time something like this comes up I’ll remember not to listen to Max and Michael,” Isabel teased.

“That’s right!” I insist jokingly. “You should never listen to anyone except your dear old Dad.” Diane jabs me in the side with her elbow, and I yelp softly before laughing and correcting myself, “Dear old Dad and Mom that is.”

“Thanks Daddy,” Isabel repeats with a smile, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek one more time. “I’m going to go back to Jesse. You never know what kind of mischief Kyle is trying to talk him into. I don’t trust them together!”

As Isabel crosses the room back to Jesse’s side, I lean back into the booth, taking in the scene before my eyes contentedly.

I noticed it weeks before, how my children seem to be growing up much too quickly. How their lives started to take twists and turns that no mere teenager should have to deal with…and not just Max and Isabel. I could see the signs of it in Liz Parker, in Michael Guerin…but most prominently in my own beloved children.

They grew up much too quickly because it was forced on them by the circumstances life seems to throw at them.

And suddenly it doesn’t seem as fearsome as it did the day of Isabel’s wedding.

Yes they are young, but they are much wiser than their years. They are adults living the lives of teenagers. Sometimes they make mistakes, but everyone makes mistakes. I make mistakes on a daily basis.

The mistakes that my children have made seem bigger to any outside observer, but when you know the truth behind the events that led them to the moment…when you know the truth behind the lies, it all comes clear.

Circumstances forced my children to grow up early.

But as I watch them sit around and talk without a care in the world, my heart lifts, and suddenly everything seems okay.

The weight of the world may be resting on my children’s shoulders, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t still capable of living a normal life, of having fun. In the mere twelve years that Max and Isabel have been in this world, they have lived their lives to the fullest. They’ve fallen in love. They’ve had their hearts broken. They’ve experienced pain, loss, birth, endings, beginnings…their lives may be dangerous, but they’ve done and seen more than even I have in decades longer. I admire them for their courage, their strength, their bravery.

And I know, without a doubt, that whatever differences may lie deep within my children from the rest of the people around them, it doesn’t matter. I’m still the luckiest father in the world…the universe even.