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My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

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Beautiful Banner by Longtimefan

Title: Scars of White

Disclaimer: The characters of "Roswell" belong to Jason Katims, Melinda Metz, WB, and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement is intended. Also all songs used in the story are credited to the band/singer and are used to credit for their inspiration to write those specific parts. (oh and not to give too much away-- certain pop culture references to Star Wars is not intended to infringe on Lucas' creation at all)

Pairings/Couples/Category: Basically all the typical ones after Graduation, they will certainly be touched upon, but they are not the driving force of this story-- you'll see what I mean.

Rating: MATURE for violence (implied and explicit), language

Summary: Starts towards the end of the Graduation episode. What would happen if Michael hadn't turned back?

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my roommate and close friend, jabker. She has TWISTED my arm to post this, when I wrote this (and many other stories) it was out of sheer boredom in the summer when there were no lovely updates from all you wonderful writers on this board. I hope I do justice with this story and that you all enjoy it. This storyline is all completely mine, infusing aspects of other movies/TV shows that I like-- however, please do tell me if you feel this is too similar to another story, I would not want to steal anyone's idea, but certain parts of Roswell stories tend to be similar-- in terms of powers or reactions in particular situations. Thus, if there is an unintentional infringement I will remove this story. It was written for purely entertainment purposes and I hope it fulfills that for you. OH and of course WARNING-- MUCH ANGST in this story. There will be moments of levity, but well the first part below will say it all in terms of how angsty it can get. What can I say, I just can't get enough of angst.

PART ONE
They didn't even have twelve days. Liz's premonition was coming true today and in the brightness of the school auditorium, they were all just sitting ducks waiting for their inevitable conclusion. He could sense their building panic for it was swelling up within him too, but glancing around him, there was one chance-one chance to allow the most survivors. It only required one sacrifice. He turned back, his eyes seeking hers and a silent understanding passed between them. His amber ones sent one last message of love and resigned determination to save her and Isabel. Taking a deep breath he stood up and steadily made his way to the podium.

After sending the speaker away he cloaked the auditorium in darkness covering the hopeful escape of the others as he bid his final goodbye. As much as he had wished things could be different for the infinite time, he could at least hold on to the thought that they could be safe, could have the chance for a new life, even a normal one.

"…I always knew I was different... and for a long... long... time, all I wanted was to be another face in the crowd... but in the end... it wasn't possible. I guess it never was. So from now on, I'll just... concentrate on being who I really am. Some of you might not like that. Some of you might even... find that frightening. I have to be who I really am... and let fate take care of the rest. So, thank you, Roswell... Thank you for... for letting me live among you. Thank you for giving me a family. Thank you for giving me a home..." As he gave his speech the trepidation within him had created a rapid rhythm in his heart wondering when they would decide to end its mad cadence. As he spoke his last few words, it came. The sensation was so sudden and forceful it caused him to stagger backwards, but before he could even register what happened, another bullet drove into his chest and he fell backwards onto the stage. As his body hit with a thud, the screaming around him already seemed faded to him and darkness began to bleed along the edges of his peripheral vision. This time though he welcomed the darkness rather than fought it. When he healed Clayton, he hadn't been ready, not with so much to still discuss with Liz. But now, she finally knew all that he wanted her to know and she not only had forgiven him for his mistakes, his indiscretions, but accepted him wholly when she whispered, "Yes" to his heartfelt proposal. He had dreamed of growing old with her, having children with her, to live in marital bliss, but it was not meant to be. So, from the moment the bullets penetrated his skin, one trained upon his beating heart, he welcomed his end-his destiny. As the blackness took over he never felt the arms that roughly grabbed his body.

Max felt like he was floating. The stinging pain had gone leaving him with nothingness. Was his soul finally at peace? Before he could explore this warm numbness, he started to feel a persistent tug. He resisted a bit, wanting to just stay in the static state where he no longer had to feel, but the force tugging at him was greater. He slowly became aware of a faint high pitched sound repeating every few seconds and then a feeling of brightness in his eyes. What did this mean? He tried to slip back further into the darkness, but the pitched sounds became more insistent, occurring with greater frequency. And the brightness started to burn at his eyelids. He slowly cracked them open and suddenly his sight was flooded with blinding whiteness. White? No, it couldn't be. He was dead… he had been shot, he should be dead. He had to be. As a wave of panic began to sweep over him, he sensed someone approach him. He tried to move, to hide and find the comforting darkness again, but he found he couldn't. He could hardly feel his own limbs. What was happening to him? The presence came closer, still remaining a silhouette in the glaring light, but then among the incessant beeping he heard a voice laced with menace, smugly say, "Welcome back, Mr. Evans." The high pitched beeps peaked, running so fast and close together one could just barely discern them. That was when he realized as his eyes widened enough to take in the white walls behind the shadow-he was in hell.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART TWO

An hour after graduation
West Roswell High- Roswell, New Mexico

The majority of the crowd had dispersed from West Roswell High. Soldiers were stationed around the perimeter discouraging any more curious onlookers. Though the ambulance carrying the one casualty was long gone, medics remained behind to care for those still in shock. Behind the school, a dark car pulled out of the parking lot.

"All right, will one of you tell me now, what the hell happened?" the general screamed at the agents "I thought I told you I wanted this one alive! Not shoot to kill! He could have given us answers, especially how he seemed to know we were there-was I the only one who actually heard his speech?!"

"With all due respect general, your orders were to exterminate the aliens, though this one did seem to postpone that result for the others, and what it said in a speech does not concern us as long we have its body-that in itself will tell us much more." Agent Felding replied coldly, but before the general could continue his protests, he held up his hand and continued, "But before you go on, we have surgeons trying to revive it. As soon as the body was retrieved we sent it along to the closest military hospital, we'll be arriving there soon and you can see for yourself. And before you ask, the family will see a body; everything has been arranged. They won't be questioning it."

Somewhat pacified, the general huffily sat back and looked out the tinted windows. His thoughts swirled around wanting to feel satisfied that the good men and women of the base were avenged, but feeling a slight twinge of guilt as well. He hadn't expected it, but that alien, was just a kid. Though the agents had told him these beings made themselves look that way to appear innocent and harmless, he couldn't get the alien's words out of his head-when he was up there, he just seemed so human. How could that kid be such a threat to the nation? But then the general remembered the shambles the base was left in with no survivors. If that alien was anything like the blonde one… well that was one thing the general would certainly find out, hopefully and soon.

Artesia Military Hospital- Artesia, New Mexico

"Both bullets have been removed and he's been placed on a ventilator, but so far there's no sign that he'll wake up. He's basically a vegetable, if he wasn't hooked up, he'd be dead." A doctor told the general and the agents as they looked through the one way window. The nurses hovered around cleaning and moving the surgical equipment, when one suddenly glanced at the heart rate monitor. The two nurses seemed to share words and one moved to exit the room.

A moment later the men heard, "Doctor?" as the nurse popped her head into the observation room. "There's been a slight spike in his heart rate; we think he may be waking up."

The doctor raised his eyebrows at this and quickly followed the nurse back into the examination room. The agents and the general continued to watch the action silently, as Agent Felding slowly turned on the sound system to the room. They began to hear the heart rate monitor, the beeping speeding up steadily. At first the body remained inert, but then they noticed a slight movement in one of the hands. After shifting somewhat the hand stilled once more, but then the head began to turn towards the side, facing the men. At that moment they saw the eyelids flutter and the beeping spiked further. Slight jerking movements were observed from the entire body. At this sight, Agent Felding decided to enter the examination room himself for a closer view. As he entered, he motioned for the doctor and nurses to vacate the room, then steadily moved towards the operating table in an almost prowl, he could see its eyes squinting through the bright lights at him. Not wanting to keep their prisoner in anymore suspense, he stepped in front of its face and smiled a smile devoid of any warmth and friendliness. "Welcome back, Mr. Evans" he stated.

Max could only blink in response, stunned at the realization that he was not dead, but back in the one place he never wanted to be in again. As the agent began to circle around him, he initiated his futile struggles again, but his bonds held him tight and his body was extremely weakened. He tried to say something, but the respirator made it difficult for him to be heard. The agent slowly removed it, causing Max to gasp suddenly at its loss. Swallowing down the panic that choked him, he whispered one agonized question, "why?"

Agent Felding sharply turned his head to stare into the eyes of the prisoner, not expecting that question. No protests to its imprisonment, no asking for its parents like last time, just acceptance to its fate at the hands of the government and a question to why it … why what indeed? Why it was there? Or-he leaned in his head by the prisoner's ear, "You mean why we didn't leave you for dead?" pausing a moment before punctuating his last word.

Max flinched at the whoosh of the agent's breath hitting his neck as he said 'dead'. Swallowing again, he timidly replied his affirmation glancing up into the agent's eyes. A smirk appeared on the agent's face as once again he leaned close to Max's face, "All in good time, Mr. Evans. We have far more plans for you first." No explanation provided, nor really needed. The hard, but excitedly perverted look in the agent's eyes told him all he needed to know. His first capture by the Special Unit would soon feel like a vacation by the time they were done with him. Though terrified at what they would do to him this time, he had to ask, "What do you want from me?"

The smirk seemed to become a permanent fixture on the agent's face as he responded once again, "All in good time." He gently placed the ventilator back on Max, but there was nothing comforting in the gesture. He then turned and walked out of Max's line of sight. Max heard a few more steps, a click and then a dull thud. And he was alone once more, left to reminisce upon his torturous memories.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART THREE

Three days after graduation
Some road in Nevada
(Song: Hoobastank's The Reason)

A motorcycle was zooming down the highway unhindered by any traffic at this early hour. The rider had been driving all night, in fact days straight, moving from back lanes during the day and major highways at night. Under his black helmet his long wavy brown hair flipped in the wind.

I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

No matter how fast he rode he couldn't escape her face. That stunned look on her face constantly hovered in front of him like a taunting mirage. A look leaving her in shocked silence for a moment long enough for him to get out of there before he could change his mind. And since then, he'd considered turning back many times. But doing that meant two sure things: his death and screwing her life up, again.

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you

Every time he weakened at the sight of those full pouting lips, calling out to him to wait. Every time the flashes of their heated passion came to mind he pressed harder on the accelerator. His weakest moments came the few times he allowed himself a few minutes to stop and rest at the side of the road, where he would pace in a painful dance of wanting to run back to her and needing to stay away to save them both.

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
That's why I need you to hear

He'd hurt her too many times already, so many times, where he was too blind, too stupid, too selfish to realize it. And being there for her when Alex had died, wasn't enough to make up for it, it was just enough at that moment, but never for the past and certainly not for their non-existent future. He stayed back for her, but ultimately had that been the right decision? Maybe if they had all gone, Tess would have gotten exactly what she wanted. She wouldn't have needed to come back, she wouldn't have blown up the base and gotten the Unit and the Army on their asses. And Maria, Liz, Kyle and Valenti could have just gone on with their lives.

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is You

But then what would have happened to Liz when she developed her powers? Maybe they would have never shown up and maybe they could have killed her or brought unwanted attention to her. And thinking back to that moment, he still would have made the same decision. He couldn't just abandon Maria not knowing what would happen to her. For once, that moment he loved her too much to leave her.

And the reason is you

Sad how quickly things change, how people change because of circumstances and how circumstances can be changed further by the decisions of those people. There was no turning back now. He could only hope that without him or any of the other alien crap they've had to deal with, Maria was free to pursue her dreams, the way she wanted to.

And the reason is you

The sky began to lighten and Michael realized he would have to move off the highway soon. He slowed enough to read the signs more clearly and saw one advertising a rest stop coming up. At the thought of heading there, he flashed back to the first time he and Maria were driving down the highway and was stopped by that officer. Her quick thinking got him out of trouble and a ticket. One of the first of many reasons why he needed her in his life, but how she didn't need him.

And the reason is you

The sun had crept up midway into the sky now and he could see the rest stop ahead. It had some trucks and bikes there, not so much that there'd be a lot of witnesses if the Unit ever caught onto his trail and not so little where the people working there could remember him easily. Before removing his helmet, he took a quick glance around and saw all the people in the diner. Moving quickly he tugged the helmet off and headed to the restroom for a quick change. Fortunately, his assumption had been correct, no one was in there. When he came out he no longer had his long wavy brown hair, but rather straight sandy blonde hair that just touched the nape of his neck; plus he fixed the crook in his nose and added a small goatee. He entered the diner and chose the booth close to the door. He ordered coffee first while he decided on what to eat. Taking a moment to just look around the place, he thought he saw a flash of some familiar dark image. Focusing on that he saw the person in the next booth reading the newspaper and on the back… It couldn't be, he thought. Remembering the newspaper stand set up outside, he dashed out and pushing a guy out of the way grabbed one out. He quickly rifled through the paper until he found the page.

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

He stared at it stunned and read it over twice just to be sure this was real. He kept muttering 'dammit' as he poured over each word. His eyes began to sting, causing him to blink and look away from the image gracing the page, staring out with intense eyes.

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you

The guy he had pushed over had his own paper now, commented at Michael. "Tragic, isn't it?" Michael could only nod, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. "Did you know him?" Michael glanced over at the man briefly and decided to answer; he wouldn't be around for long anyway.

"Yeah, a long time ago." With that, his fingers that had gripped the newspaper so violently just dropped it too numb to hold on and he stepped into the diner. He went to the counter and ordered his breakfast, to go.

The paper on the ground still displayed the article, "Roswell Graduate Shot by Terrorists, Funeral Tomorrow" with a picture of Max Evans below it.

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you

by **behrinthecity** » Tue Apr 05, 2005 1:34 am · (10/30/09

by behrinthecity » Tue Apr 05, 2005 1:34 am

Hey everybody! My beta and I are back with 2 new parts... they're companion pieces technically and since it's been a while, I thought I should post a longer one. So enjoy! (Will respond to feedback soon)

oh and note-- ***** text ***** denotes flashbacks

PARTS FOUR & FIVE

3 months later
Canada

Liz walked through the door, brushing her dark blonde hair out of her face and called out, "Hillary?" using her roommate's alias in case she had any company over. She waited a few moments hearing nothing and figured Isabel hadn't come back from her classes yet. Having this time to herself she decided to go to her room and rest a bit before starting dinner. As she lay on her bed, her mind began to drift towards the contents of her bedside table's bottom drawer. Knowing she was just setting herself up for another good cry, she still could not deny the urge to see it all again.

Shakily she removed a few items within the drawer and touched a lever towards the back causing the base to lift up and reveal a hidden space. Now in full view she picked the hidden contents up her hands trembling even more than before. Though not much in volume or number, the few sheets of paper she held in her hands were everything to her. She replaced the drawer as she found it and returned to her bed to peruse through her most prized possessions.

First were the photos of her parents and Grandma Claudia, Alex, and Maria that she had in her wallet. Next was the strip of photos she and Max had taken all those years back, when things seemed so much simpler and just happy. The familiar sensation of tears pricking her eyes began but she couldn't stop, not yet. Lastly were the newspaper clippings she had collected since the day her hopes and dreams for her future died. First was the article on the tragic events at the graduation of West Roswell High where a graduate was believed to be killed, the shooter unknown. The next article confirmed the graduate's death, but was withholding the name while the authorities were still attempting to find the killer and contain the situation.

A wave of anger swept through Liz at those words as it often did when she would read these articles over and over. A situation?! How could they understate things that way and just discount life so easily? How could they just blatantly lie saying they were searching for the killer when it was one of their own? How could they be so cruel and kill the one person, yes person, who was the kindest, gentlest and most loving man she had ever known? Tears were streaming down her face by now forcing her to stop to take a deep breath before she continued. The following article finally had a short statement from the military claiming crazed terrorists, also linked to the Army base bombing, were found to have attacked the nearby school. Had the military not already been on their trail, there would have been more casualties. Sadly, they were not there in time to prevent the one death that did occur and they offered their condolences to the family and friends of the departed. The article after that finally released the graduate's name and picture listing the funeral would be occurring the next day. Liz paused on this article, lightly tracing the face staring out from the page. *Max* she sighed as her finger followed the strong line of his jaw and onto his soft, saddened lips. She longed to feel those lips on hers again. She longed to actually look into his eyes and once again get lost in their warm amber depths. Her tears having slowed a bit by now splattered gently onto the picture as they had many times before. She gently wiped at the drops on the clipping and placed it down to lessen the damage she seemed to wreck upon it each time she read it. Trying to stop the tears, she closed her eyes tightly but the flashes of memory that came to mind held the opposite effect.

***** She was at graduation again, in a sea of red robes. She was smiling; after all this was graduation, the last official chapter of her childhood coming to a close and well, the overwhelming feeling of elation of being proposed to the night before by the love of her life hadn't worn out yet. In fact, at that moment she didn't think anything could deflate her happiness, because the prospect of becoming Mrs. Max Evans was so exciting to her that for a moment she could forget about the death sentence hanging above their heads and the fact that in a few more days she might never see her parents again. Unfortunately, that was the only moment she was ever granted to forget such things again.

Everything went downhill as soon as she saw him take the stage-Bryce McCain. He was in Roswell too soon. He was supposed to be giving his speech at the UFO Center days from now, not today, not at graduation. She tried to breathe normally as panic set in. She glanced at her friends, and finally locked eyes with Max. His eyes told so much in one gaze, more than any speech could ever do. In that moment she silently heard all he wanted to say-that he loved her, that he wished this could all be different, that he prayed for her to be safe with the others and that he hoped she would understand what he had to do. Still held in his gaze, she could only affirm with a slight smile, trying to memorize his face at that moment, hoping desperately she would see his face again; that he would find a way out too and she'd have many more moments to gaze upon his face. In a way her hope was achieved with one devastating detail changed, Max never made it out-alive. *****

At this point she was sobbing into her hands, so lost in her grief that she didn't hear Isabel come in.

_ _ _

The sky was finally darkening as she arrived home. Pushing the door open with her side, she carefully maneuvered all her shopping bags into the hallway placing them carefully at her feet as she turned back to lock the door. About to pick up the bags again, she realized the house was still dark. She quickly flipped on the lights and quietly moved around the house to check for any possible intruder. She listened carefully for any noise, finally hearing something as she neared Liz's room. Not wanting to surprise her, she called out to her, "Li-Stephanie?" almost forgetting to call her by her alias. After all in this town, they were sisters-Stephanie and Hillary Carter, with matching blonde hair and hazel eyes, though Liz's seemed to have a blue tint to them as well at times. Knocking lightly, she eased Liz's door opened and saw a now familiar sight.

She strode to the bed, moved the clippings and photos onto the bedside table and pulled her sister into a tight embrace. She slowly smoothed Liz's hair down as she had done many times before, over the weeks they had been there, repeating the same comforting words, "It's all right to let it out Liz, let it out…"

She knew if she didn't remind Liz that it was okay to cry, Liz would retreat back behind a façade of indifference to mask the pain and appear strong. It was what Liz did initially after graduation. It was just her and Liz on the road and after finding out officially that Max had died, she was an emotional wreck. Liz's strength and determination to get them away from Roswell was the only thing that got her through to their new home. She remembered pleading with Liz to let her go back, to find Max, but Liz reminded her that as much as she wanted to do the same, it would mean their deaths and that Max would have died in vain. Having Liz actually say that was a rude awakening for her. Until that point his death hadn't really sunk in. She knew that they both felt that odd sudden pressure change in their heads, signaling a severing of their connection to Max and his death had been all over the news, but after his last miraculous 'rebirth', she had hoped that maybe he was still alive. She and Liz had discussed the differences between this time and last-that because he was back for only a short time the mental link they shared with Max was not as strong as it used to be, which is why when it was lost, the backlash was hardly more than a passing feeling of lightheadedness. Liz had told her that the first time the loss of the connection was so powerful that it woke her from a deep drunken sleep.

***** "Even though this time the loss wasn't as powerful, the result still feels the same. An empty space…" Liz trailed off as she drove the car that Kyle had provided for them.

Isabel looked at Liz through red, tearful eyes then turned away, nodding slightly. But as she looked out the window, she couldn't help but think that there was still a chance. Liz said the regenerating connection was new and relatively weak, perhaps too weak to really know… but the dream world-some time he would have to sleep. At that thought a slight smile touched her lips, but it still caught Liz's attention.

"Isabel… don't." The bluntness of the word startled Isabel out of her thoughts and she turned back to look at Liz. "I know what you're planning to do, but he's not there. Why set yourself up for that hurt?" Liz's voice seemed so cold when she said that, but thinking back it actually sounded like it was utterly choked with emotion.

"After everything you've been through, why did you come back? Why say yes?"

"He was the love of my life."

"Yeah, and he is my brother. I lost him once before, I can't lose him this time, not without trying first." After that all was silent in the car. *****

For an entire month after that day Isabel had tried to dream walk Max nightly, but each time she was met with nothingness-utter darkness, just empty. Liz had tried to get her to stop, noticing the increasingly dark circles under her reddened eyes. That was when Isabel blew up in Liz's face.

***** "Did you stop trying to discover the truth when Alex died?"

The question stopped Liz cold, causing her to just gape at Isabel in shock.

Isabel took her opportunity to forge on with her tirade, "You didn't. No one listened to you, because we didn't want to believe that what you said was true. I know I didn't, because it meant that I caused his death. That by letting him in…" a sob stole from her throat before she could stop it. She took a halting breath to continue before she lost her nerve and anger. "You may not believe me Liz, but Max isn't dead. I won't accept it, I can't. I mean, look at you! It's been a month and I have yet to see you mourn my brother. Somewhere deep down you don't believe he's dead either, because if you did, you wouldn't be so… so composed!"

That was when Liz finally let herself break down. Her breaths hitched suddenly and she turned to grab her bag violently. She spilled the contents on the floor in front of Isabel and showed her the collection of newspaper clippings and photos. "Do you see these clippings? Each one mentions the death of a West Roswell High graduate, of Max Evans- your brother! He's gone, Isabel! It's too late! He's gone…" and with that, sobs wracked her petite frame and she crumpled to the floor crying for Max as she had cried for Alex. She didn't want to be strong anymore; she didn't care what happened to herself anymore. She just wanted Max back. Isabel quickly wrapped her arms around Liz, soothingly saying, "Let it out Liz, it's all right to let it out." *****

"…let it out." As the familiar words registered, Liz stopped sobbing. She pushed gently at Isabel's arms to face her, "We can't keep doing this."

"Liz…" Isabel began to protest, but Liz quickly cut her off.

"No! I can't keep falling apart like this Isabel. We started a new life here, but neither of us is living it. As much as I wish things were different, they're not. We need to move on." She held up her hand before Isabel could interrupt, "I'm not saying we forget, just that we stop this," she motioned to her collection. "If I stop dwelling in the past, will you stop delving into the darkness?"

Isabel went rigid as she jerkily shook her head. *No*

Liz grabbed her hands before she could move away, "Isabel please. I know you still try at least once a week; your eyes can't hide that. If not for yourself, do it for me. We've been through so much together and even though being 'sisters' is just our cover in this town; I do consider you the sister I never had." Funny, how it takes something so tragic to bring people together, for Isabel was the only one who could know exactly how she felt. She was the only one else in their gang who lost a brother and a lover. Before the others came into her life, Alex was like the brother she never had and seeing Isabel with Alex way back then, she knew there had been something there. "I mean, if things had worked out, we would be sister-in-laws, but… I can't bear to see you put yourself through this any longer, anymore than I can bear to see these clippings, or anything else that reminds me of him… of them."

Isabel glanced down at their linked hands, then slowly lifted her eyes to meet Liz's watery but steady gaze. It was true, over the past three months; through their shared loss and grief she had found kinship in the girl that used to threaten her. She remembered when she was so scared that she would lose Max to her. But the thing was Liz was the one that brought the real Max out, if only for a short while, as well as bring Alex into her life. Max always had trusted Liz, at least when his mind wasn't being tampered with. She had come to trust Liz too, for she was pretty much the reason they were still alive and safe. So she finally decided to trust Liz on this, acquiescing with a nod and a squeeze of the hand. No more dream walking the dead.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART SIX

3 months after graduation
Crashdown- Roswell, New Mexico
(Music playing in background-One Hundred Years by Five for Fighting)

I'm 15 for a moment
Caught in between 10 and 20
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

Maria sat at the counter playing with the straw in her drink, no longer an employee of the Crashdown. If it hadn't been for her last minute decision to actually attend college, she would have quit three months back; but she really did need the money. After graduation, it was so hard for her to be in this place, where the downward spiral to hell began.

I'm 22 for a moment
She feels better than ever
And we're on fire
Making our way back from Mars

15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to lose
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

Worse, was that it was just her. Michael had left and so had Liz. Even though she knew from Isabel in weekly dream walks that Liz was alive, she technically had lost both her best friends. When Liz left, she would have too. Maybe back to New York to see Billy. However, the Unit and army decided otherwise. For the first month they stuck around pestering her, Kyle, the Evans and the Parkers about the sudden disappearances of Liz, Isabel and Michael. At least they had the decency not to ask anything about Max. Sure wasn't much difference though. The cover story had been that the events of graduation were so traumatic for those three, especially only a year after Alex had died that they couldn't stay in Roswell any longer. That's when they started to question her more, why didn't she leave?

I'm 33 for a moment
Still the man, but you see I'm a they
A kid on the way
A family on my mind

I'm 45 for a moment
The sea is high
And I'm heading into a crisis
Chasing the years of my life

Over the years she had gotten better at lying and evading questions. She told them that she didn't know Max as well as them-his girlfriend, best friend and sister. But she had, maybe not in the same way they did, but she had her own special friendship with him. That summer three years back was when she saw past the dreamy gazes he would send Liz. She saw the love there through the pain and resignation of Liz's absence. She also found the world's greatest listener besides Alex. She-her musings were suddenly interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. She blinked into focus and saw Kyle's concerned face in front of her.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, taking the stool next to her.

"Yeah, just thinking." She replied taking a sip of her drink.

15 there's still time for you
Time to buy, Time to lose yourself
Within a morning star

"Yeah, seems that's all we do these days." He ordered a drink for himself and glanced around the empty café, pausing at the one booth neither had been able to go near, before looking back at Maria. "So, one more week to go. Excited about starting college?" He asked in attempt to lighten their already depressing conversation.

15 I'm all right with you
15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

"Yeah, it'll be different." She smiles slightly, staying silent for a moment, then, "I'm glad you're going with me. But, why did you decide to go to UNM? Santa Fe State was offering you a football scholarship."

Half time goes by
Suddenly you're wise
Another blink of an eye
67 is gone
The sun is getting high
We're moving on...

Kyle smirked slightly at the question. "Well I found out there's a larger percentage of babes attending UNM than Santa Fe, and well I was sold!" he joked. "Ow!" As expected, Maria slapped him on the arm without missing a beat. He rubbed it slowly, "Okay, okay, it's just that, it's just the two of us now. Besides my dad, we're the only ones that know what happened over the past three years and I don't think I can ever pretend that it never happened. There will be times I just need someone who knows, who can understand without having me explain. And I don't want to lose anyone else, not in death and not by my running away. I know I dreamed about getting out of Roswell and being a pro-football player, but after all we've been through it just doesn't seem to matter anymore. It can't compare."

I'm 99 for a moment
Dying for just another moment
And I'm just dreaming
Counting the ways to where you are

Maria's eyes had begun to water by now but she was still staring straight at Kyle, listening attentively. Kyle began to become uncomfortable after sharing all that. It was still hard for him to completely open up to anyone, the last time had ended in such disaster. "Yeah and you know UNM has a way better football team." He added, puffing his chest outward with the claim.

"Not for much longer." Maria teased, the tears gone replaced by a wicked glint matching her smirk.

15 there's still time for you
22 I feel her too
33 you're on your way
Every day's a new day...

Playing along, Kyle gasped holding his hand to his heart, "That hurt. That-you cut me deep, Maria." But he couldn't keep up the charade long, just seeing her smile like that was enough to make him break out into an actual grin. They needed a break from all this angst. But before they could make a clean enough break when they left next week, they had one more place to visit.

15 there's still time for you
Time to buy and time to choose
Hey 15, there's never a wish better than this
When you only got 100 years to live

---
*OH! and Note... no infringement intended on Dreamworks' wonderful, hilarious creation-- Shrek.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART 7

An hour later
Roswell Cemetery

As they past through the gates, they each took separate paths leading to a different friend. Even after all they had shared, some things were meant to stay private. Maria stopped in front of the grave already starting to show signs of age with moss growth. She wiped at it a bit, and then traced the lettering of her best friend's name. As she reached the X she sat down heavily by the gravestone turning away from the wording to stare up at the sky. Her throat felt choked up with the unshed tears she desperately held back, struggling in their flood. Not knowing where to start or even how to start, she whispered in anguish the only thing she could think; the only thing she could feel, "I miss you. I miss you so much."

~ ~ ~

On the other side of the cemetery Kyle stood, hands in pockets. He stoically stared down at the headstone still seeming freshly placed in the earth. He stood a bit off centered and a few steps away from the stone, remembering what had become of his friend's body-his face.

***** (One Hour after graduation at Roswell Memorial Hospital)
Kyle held on to Maria as they waited with the Evans, Jesse, his dad and Ms. Deluca for news about Max. From what his dad had said, there wasn't much chance that Max made it. Still they couldn't lose hope, though only four of them knew about it, Max had died and come back, so he could do it again-there was a chance. There had to be.

Unfortunately that chance was shot to hell when a doctor finally came to talk to them. His look was grim already deflating the small hope that wavered violently within them all, but when he took the Evans with him to speak to them privately, Kyle knew. Max was really gone this time.

The Evans came back, Mrs. Evans looking paler and more faint than before as she clutched tightly to her husband who seemed extremely tired. They told them that Max was already dead before he reached the hospital and the doctors had finally removed the bullets. The reason they took so long to talk to them was some identification issue. That's when Kyle's dad spoke up. "How could they not know it was Max? We all saw him. There couldn't have been that many shootings today, he must have had his ID with him and besides, couldn't they see his face?" His father's voice had started to take a tone of incredulity.

"No." Mr. Evans replied. All was silent in the waiting room as they all turned to stare at him. "They don't know what happened to his wallet, but his face…" he trailed off for a moment to take a breath as his wife held on even tighter, if possible. "Those sons of bitches shot him a third time." Mrs. Evans was openly crying by now and Mr. Evans did not elaborate.

Maria's shock from the past hour's events was beginning to wear off as it turned to anger. "What do you mean a third time? Where?" Her mom and Kyle tried to calm her down a bit, this was hard enough on the Evans without her badgering, but she fought them both off. "No! Where's the doctor? I want to see Max. I want to see him!" She was screaming by now, and his dad had joined in to stop her.

But the struggling stopped when Mrs. Evans finally spoke. "His face. You can't even tell…" she broke off as one more sob came out, "It was his face." *****

Kyle sat down gingerly, angled in a way that he wasn't over where his friend laid, but could still face the carved stone-Max Evans, 1983-2002, Beloved Son, Brother and Friend. "Evans."

He waited a moment, almost as if he expected a reply. He sighed in frustration, "I can just hear your reply in my head. I don't know if I should be happy about that. I guess it means I can't forget about you and all you've done." He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "That didn't come out right. I…I just don't know how to do this. I mean, it's not like we had any real heart to hearts when you were…here. Well, except for that time I got you drunk. At least I think we did, still kind of hard to remember that night. But, I do remember thinking we had fun." Kyle shook his head and laughed softly, "I keep having this image of me holding Liz's underwear and well I'll tell you that kept me going for the rest of the year." He stared off unseeing for a moment, "Then I realized the truth…of well, everything-the entire year, you and Liz. I must say it took a long while before I came around to singing any of your praises. I know you saved my life, and I was obligated, but I never was truly grateful. I didn't fully understand what it took for you to do that. And I guess, better late than never," tears started to sting at his eyes, but he didn't bother to wipe them away. "Thank you." He released a shuddering breath, "thank you for putting yourself on the line all those times. Thank you for saving Liz. Me. My dad. All of us. I know you said you weren't a king, well maybe not, but you're definitely one thing… you're a hero, Max. A real hero. And I finally understand what Alex meant that it is worth knowing. It was worth knowing you, the kind of person, human, you were." Kyle stood up, a tear slowly trailing down his cheek. He placed a hand on top of the grave. "I'm not sure I'll be back again, but I said what I wanted to say." He looked up and squinted in the pale sun, "Goodbye Max." He stood there silent for a moment; then slowly walked away towards Maria.

~ ~ ~

(Song snippet from: Remy Zero's Perfect Memory)

"I'm sorry I've been such a bad friend. I haven't been back here since…you were placed here. It's still so hard to believe you're really gone-that they're all gone. I'm sorry; here I am pitying myself again and… I can just imagine you already trying to comfort and reassure me. I know you're there for me, for all of us… even if it is just in spirit, but I wish we could be there for you. That we had been there for you when she did…God, every time I think of what she did to you, I feel like I could kill her, but she took that away too. I don't think I'll ever fully understand how Max, Liz, Kyle and Jim could be even that forgiving. I bet if you were given the choice, you'd be right there with them. She doesn't deserve it-especially from the people she hurt and betrayed the most. What she did to you guys, the manipulation?!" her voice cracked at a high pitch under her fury, "…the absolute disregard for life-that is, other than her own. I…"

The pent up anger Maria was unleashing finally was stopped by a wave of sadness over the loss of life all around her. She remained silent for a moment trying to clear her head, her heart, of all the rage she had held on to so long. "You loved life so much, no matter what it threw at you. You cared about so many things-computers, your music, your family, your friends. You were the most loyal person I have ever known and I'm still proud to call you my best friend. Nothing will ever change that." Another round of tears began to spill across her cheeks and she lightly wiped them away, "And I'll try to be a better friend… actually visit you more often. I'll really try. It's just hard…just…" She pursed her quivering lips and looked away for a moment. Then a song drifted from her lips conveying what she had been trying to say so inadequately. "I'll remember you and all the things we used to do. And all the things we used to say." She breathes deeply, "I'll remember you…that way."

~ ~ ~

"Maria?"

She looked up at Kyle and nodded. "Ok." She lifted her hand to her lips, kissing them and then placed that same hand on Alex's grave. She stood up; brushing lightly at the dirt on her legs and began down the path Kyle just came from.

He watched her retreating back for a moment before turning back to Alex's grave. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and stepped closer. "Umm… hey man." He placed his hands in his pockets, even after doing this once it still felt awkward for him.

"I…uh…never got a chance to apologize… I mean I was planning on maybe doing it after Evans' funeral…" He shook his head slightly as the memory of that day came to mind, "but by the end Maria was barely holding it together… and I have to admit I was pretty close to losing it too. I thought it was hard enough burying one friend… but… and in front of all those people-those strangers…" He broke off as he placed a hand over his eyes to keep the tears at bay.

"Losing you guys all because of the secret we shared… I know how you felt about that, but I still feel like I need to ask-is it really worth it? For you both to die so young? For Liz, Isabel and Michael to give up their lives to go into hiding? For Maria to be crying practically every day? For the Evans, the Parkers and yours to lose their children? I don't know… More often these days I'm starting to wonder… I know I will always value my friendship with you and the others… you guys were more…than I ever had given you credit for before. I wonder if I would have had the chance to know you guys so well without knowing the secret…without anyone knowing. Probably not. I… I just wish you guys had a chance to keep on," a slight smile lit his face for a second, "riding for a while longer. Knowing and meeting them is one thing, but to be killed because of it or by them… you didn't need that to happen to you to be unique. You were one of a kind all on your own Whitman. And I'm so sorry that I couldn't stop this from happening. That I actually helped it happen. And I wish I could really hate her, but some part of me still holds on to the times where she genuinely seemed nice. I just… I don't think I'll ever really forgive myself for my part in your death. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Alex."

At this point, his hand had found its way to resting on top of the grave as he kneeled in front of it, head bowed. He angrily wiped at the second tear to fall down his cheek that day, soon followed by another. He abruptly stood up and glanced in the direction of Maria to see if she was ready to go yet. He turned back to face the grave in front of him again, staring at the inscription as flashes of the past appeared in his mind. **Alex sitting next to him at school during lunch, looking hurt and confused as he accused him of spying for Liz; Singing American Pie when they were trapped by the killer blue alien crystals; Playing blackjack in Vegas; Carrying his lifeless body into his car.** "No!" He covered his face in his hands trying to rid himself of that image, but he could never forget that night, that moment, never. He slowly lowered his hands and taking one last look at his friend's grave he whispered, "I'm sorry." He then backed away, almost running to his car.

~ ~ ~

(Song: Sarah McLachlan's Angel)

"Hey girlfriend." She tried to smile, but failed miserably as her tears spilled over into sobs. She kneeled down, shifting onto one side, legs behind her. She lightly trailed over the grass covering her friend's body, as if with comforting caresses. As she sat there in silence, tears still marking paths down her cheeks, memories of the last time she was there filled her head-the funeral. She remembered feeling so lost, looking out at a crowd where the majority didn't even know Max and wondering if she could get through the funeral without breaking down completely. Somehow she managed, the thought that 'this' was all she could do for him-to sing and pray his soul was finally at peace. She couldn't let him down and she didn't. As she began to talk to her friend, her fingers still trailing through the grass, she could hear the song she sang that day.

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance

"This almost seems familiar, me doing most of the talking, and you just sitting there, listening. You being there that summer meant a lot and I'm sorry that I wasn't equally there for you."

For a break that would make it okay
There's always one reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day

"You were always there to pick up the pieces, fix the mistakes of others. But when you needed that same help, we weren't there…I wasn't there to give you back your hope. I was hurting so much that night and it turned out it wasn't exactly what I thought, but it did the damage…only the damage was done to you and your relationship."

I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memory seeps from my veins
Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

"I thought I always saw you as you, but I realize I didn't, not really. I saw the person who saved Liz with his alien powers and with that same alien heritage, proceeded to break her heart and change her life irrevocably. Yeah, yeah I actually picked up on some SAT words from Liz. Anyway, you were the guy I would measure Michael up to; you were the guy who just seemed so perfect that when…everything just went to hell…I didn't recognize you anymore. But the thing is I never truly acknowledged who you were. I knew you as Isabel's brother, Liz's soul mate, Michael's best friend, a good listener, an alien king, a healer, a Czechoslovakian. I really wish I had taken the chance that summer to actually get to know you. Know you beyond relationship and other-worldly troubles."

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of an angel
May you find some comfort here

"But I guess our lives are just one big cliché…I mean, I finally realized the kind of person you are through your actions. Both times you died; it was saving another one's life. I've realized you were the person that followed his heart and each time you listened to it, it was protecting others at your own risk."

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

"You were a miracle. Without you, I would have lost a best friend even earlier. I know you would argue at this point that everything afterwards-all the danger we were all put in, was your fault. But you see you were there to save us when you were able to follow your heart. You were a good man Max. And if you were given the chance, I'm sure you would have made a wonderful husband and father too. You were a great friend and because of you, we're all still here, somewhere, and we're ok. Rest easy, you don't have to worry anymore. Just be."

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie

Kyle stood behind Maria, the flowers they had bought for their friends in his hand. After seeing Maria still sitting by Max's grave when he was done he decided to retrieve them from the car. "Hey…"

She looked up at Kyle and as her gaze began to drop, her eyes settled on the flowers in his hand. Her lips twitched upwards at the sight and she stretched out a hand towards him. He helped her up and handed the flowers to her and together they walked to the stone and gently placed them down. He caught her eye as she finished placing her kiss on Max's grave. "Ready." It was all she spoke. He held her hand, his left hand holding the flowers for Alex, and they stepped down the path away from the grave. A grave now graced with the presence of a single white rose surrounded in a bouquet of forget-me-nots.

You're in the arms of an angel
May you find some comfort here
You're in the arms of an angel
May you find some comfort here.

_ _ _

Later that night
Valenti home

Kyle was spent after his emotional afternoon. Visiting the graves of his two friends had taken their toll and he could hardly keep his eyes open. He fell heavily into his bed and quickly entered what should have been a dreamless sleep.

Images of white assaulted him. They swirled around him causing everything to appear blurred. Kyle couldn't focus on anything and felt increasingly dizzy as he tried. He was about to shout out for it to stop, but he then heard something that made his blood run cold. "NO!" Kyle looked all around him for the source of the voice, to confirm if it was who he thought it could be, but all he saw was white. Dark blurry forms moved in front of him crowding around one corner. He began to feel pain and intense panic, more than this dream alone had induced in him. The swirling white began to fade back into darkness as he heard one more time, "No!" and with that Kyle woke up, the frightened voice still ringing in his ears.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART EIGHT

The next morning
Valenti Home

Jim Valenti sat at the dining table, drinking coffee as he read the paper. He was already dressed in his deputy uniform ready to leave for his shift, starting in an hour. Though appearing to be engrossed in his paper, he snuck glances as Kyle entered the kitchen and went about getting breakfast.

As Kyle began to eat he finally had enough. "What? Is there something you want to say?" He bit out irately, still feeling unsettled from the dream he had.

His father gently placed the paper down, "Maybe I should be asking you that. Did something happen?" His eyes filled with concern.

Kyle shook his head a bit, not really wanting to get into the dream with his father. "It's nothing…" he trailed off. He began to think, what if it was more than a dream? What if somehow Max survived and this was his way of calling for help? Or it was like a dream walk that Iz could do… oh my god, was he finally developing his powers?

"Kyle? Tell me. What is it?" His father had placed a hand on his shoulder by now. Kyle looked up and made his decision.

"I… I had a dream last night. It's really unclear, it was all so blurry, but it felt real. I can't explain it well, but I remember seeing white and then these dark forms crowding around something, I'm not sure what. But… I heard this voice, shouting 'No!' and the thing is... he sounded just like Max. I've been trying to rationalize it, thinking it was just my overwrought emotions from visiting his grave yesterday, but what if it's more than that? What if he's alive, dad?"

His father sighed, then softly, but deliberately spoke, "Kyle, don't do this to yourself. It's been three months, if he had been alive, Isabel would have found out and told us by now. Besides, I saw it happen, there's no way he could survive that. It was just a dream."

"But that voice, the pain, it felt so real!"

"Son… I know, I've had some of those dreams myself; reliving that day, hell the past three years. I even dream that I actually manage to save him-to actually protect everybody like I was supposed to. But those dreams are just that, as soon as we wake up, they're all still gone."

"But…" Kyle started to waver, no longer so sure that his dream was more than a dream. "What if they're starting to show?"

"Didn't Liz start to feel sick a bit before they did?"

His father was right; there were all sorts of scary side effects she went through before she was able to predict the future and blast things around like Michael. "Yeah, yeah she did." He began to look at the table and trace a random pattern on the top.

"Hey, I'm sorry. It's still hard for me too and I just… well there's nothing I can do about it, but I can at least see that you have a future." His father tried to compose himself. "Now come on, school starts in a week for you, don't you have some last minute supplies to get?"

"Yeah, I do." Kyle tried to feel excited about going to college, but the voice from the dream continued to leave an unsettled feeling within him.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART NINE

Hours earlier
Observation Room, Sub-Basement, Private Sector, West Virginia Base
West Virginia

All was dark in the room, the majority of the equipment already packed up. The only light spilled through the large window in front of one lone man. His tall frame stood still with exception to his hand nervously raking through his slicked back tawny brown hair.

The young agent stared through the one-way glass as the shivering occupant was prepared for transport. The tremors the ice treatment had brought on him had subsided slightly but not enough. Especially now that the blanket he had provided him had been removed. Though he was the enemy, the agent couldn't help but feel some pity and concern. He suspected those feelings were exactly why he was sent to wait here instead of helping the other men in there.

"What the hell was that agent?" The head of their unit barked at him, startling him from his reverie.

He immediately jumped at attention and stammered out, "What was what sir?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean agent. You are to follows orders and only them. Where did I say to provide tea?" He menacingly spat out.

"I'm sorry sir, it was just that I was trying to follow your order of keeping him alive and he was going into hypothermic shock."

He stared hard at the agent for a moment. Then with deadly calm, "That's strike two agent. Never even suggest the possibility that thing is remotely human. It is a merciless killer, do not forget that."

"Yes sir. I won't. This will never happen again."

"No it won't. You are dismissed from the unit. Go home."

"What? But sir, please-"

"Be grateful I let you leave this place alive. Though I am disappointed in your inability to remain detached from the subject, I do know you are a man of integrity and intelligence. Enjoy spending time with your family." With that Agent Felding, spun on his heel and exited the room.

The young agent remained still for a few minutes, in shock about how close he came… Taking deep breaths to calm himself as his mind whirled at what he was to do now; he was as good as black listed from the entire bureau. Maybe he could have some friends from his old department to pull a few strings and get him a low key job. But first he had to get off the Unit's radar, especially to protect his family. He looked to the room in front of him, now devoid of any presence. Though not a very religious man, he said a silent prayer for the prisoner; things were only going to get worse for him.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART TEN

Three months after graduation
An Art Studio- Seattle, Washington
(Music playing in background: Unforgiven by Metallica)

The drapes were closed and a stereo system blared in the background. There was one lone figure in the center of the room, adding the final touches to a painting. The painting was a myriad of colors upon the canvas, save for one small area. This was the area he worked on, not with reds or blues but with black and white.

New blood joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pain disgrace
The young boy learns their rules

The image being brought to life was of a playground, children running around. However, towards the right was a carousel with one child sitting forlornly on it. This carousel was different. Unlike the rest of the picture, expressing constant motion with its vibrant colors, it was stark still; a frozen black and white snapshot. The child, a young boy, probably six or seven years old, stared out observing the other children, while capturing one's attention with too serious eyes. The boy was shadowed, but his eyes shone out. As the painter carefully darkened the boy's hair, he took a step back to view his work.

With time the child draws in
This whipping boy done wrong
Deprived of all his thoughts
The young man struggles on and on he's known
A vow unto his own
That never from this day
His will they'll take away

As his own grey eyes took in the painting, a slight smile of satisfaction touched his lips, but then dropped as he reached the boy. He swallowed a lump back in his throat and then lifted his hand towards the boy, as if to touch him. He stopped just short of the canvas, and an almost indiscernible glow lit the painting there for a moment. The moment quickly passed and the painter tore his gaze away, proceeding to busy himself with cleaning his brushes. A loud knock was heard over his music-the Metallica CD he bought, the first of his new collection to replace the one he left behind. "Come in."

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been

The door opened tentatively at first then after a beat was thrown open fully. "Ray! How's my favorite artist?" An attractive older woman brightly asked.

"Just finished my last one." He pointed towards the painting.

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub the unforgiven

"Oh…" she gasped in awe at his new creation. "It's stunning and the boy is there again… I think it's in the eyes, but there's just something that causes his image to haunt me." She turned back to its creator, "they're going to love you. I already predict a complete success for your show. All we need is a title for the show and possibly for each individual piece, but that is entirely up to you."

They dedicate their lives
To running all of his
He tries to please them all
This bitter man he is

The painter just leaned back against the sink staring past his agent, once again trained on the boy. His agent began to fidget impatiently in the silence, even with the music still blaring in the background. "How about… let's see, I think the emphasis is on these images of black and white you have in each one, they're like snapshots-moments frozen in time. So what do you think? 'Frozen in time'? 'Shots of Memory'? 'Images of …'no that would be too long, maybe just 'Images of White'?" She talked quickly, almost with a desperate need to fill the silence, like a familiar figure from the past. Yet, she didn't put in extra effort to gain his attention, she had learned by now that he's always listening, always aware of what's around him, even if no one else can tell.

Throughout his life the same
He's battled constantly
This fight he cannot win
A tired man they see no longer cares
The old man then prepares
To die regretfully
That old man here is me

"Scars." She had also learned by now that he was a man of few words, but much emotion, emotion that breathed life into his paintings.

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never be
Never see
Won't see what might have been

"Just scars?" She asked, not scathingly to show disapproval, but matter-of-factly to confirm the exact title.

"Scars of White." He said no more, but his eyes had taken on a stormy quality, clouded with the memories that inspired his creations.

What I've felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub the unforgiven

"All right." She quickly pulled out her Palm and noted it down. She pushed back her red hair as she asked, "what about individual titles?"

"I'll get back to you with a list," and with that he turned back to cleaning his brushes. She got the message and quickly vacated the room, closing the door quietly. In her line of work, she'd met her fair-share of brooding artists, but there seemed to be more to this one. A story of great loss, but she never tried to ask. It wasn't her job to pry into his life, just to get his work the credit and attention it deserved.

Alone once more, the painter put down the brush and turned once more to the painting. He stepped closer to it, his breathing a bit erratic now. As he tried to calm himself down, he breathed out the words *my fault*. Swallowing yet another lump within his throat, and running a hand splattered with paint through his jet black hair, he whispered, "I'm so sorry Max. I'm so sorry."

You labeled me
I'll label you
So I dub the unforgiven

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART ELEVEN

Location: Unknown
Time: Endless

He woke to the blinding whiteness yet again. It seemed whether he woke curled up on the floor or strapped to a table, all he would ever see would be white. He still felt nauseated but not as severely as before. He remained perfectly still, having accepted his fate in here a long time ago.

Moments passed in utter silence, save for the shallow breaths he took. Then as usual in there, he suddenly was no longer alone. He heard the footsteps, but stretched out on the table as he was he could not see the agent. The steps stopped; the source still out of sight. Then a whirring noise began and Max felt himself being pushed up. He remembered another time so similar to this. At that time he had been terrified, trying to sink further down the seat, table, whatever it was he had been strapped to. This time, he did not struggle and just laid there waiting.

When the whirring stopped he found himself able to see who had entered. One of the two agents that had jeered at his pleading earlier, that had been second to welcome him to this hell stood before him. From his new vantage point Max glanced down at his latest restrained position. One arm hooked up to an IV had been strapped palm down, while the other palm up, displaying an already over-abused vein. His newly granted scrub pants had been replaced by a thin white sheet now pooled at his waist, spanning his lower body and covering a catheter.

After studying Max for several moments, the agent finally spoke. "You still seem quite unwell. Perhaps we have been a bit too hard on you" his usually hard tone adopting a feigned soft one. He lightly touched Max's chest near to where he had been shot at graduation. The touch for once not of a gloved finger caused Max's breath to hitch abruptly.

He continued to trail along the area where two scars, remains of the near fatal bullet wounds had been. "Do you miss them?" The agent's face was so close to Max's now, whispering in his ear.

"I…" he was almost going to admit that he did. That even still surviving in this place he longed to see the physical reminder of why he was in there, why he was there at all. "What are you getting at?" he asked instead, dreading where this interrogation was leading to.

"Such impatience. And here I was going to do something for you." The agent taunted the insincerity clear in his voice. "You seemed so reluctant to get rid of them before, but now… well let's just say I can give them back to you."

Max remained apprehensive, but part of him jumped at the possibility to hope the end was finally coming. "Then why did you bother saving me from choking to death?"

The agent was silent for a second then soon laughed at the absurdity of the question. "We told you Mr. Evans, the fun is only just beginning." He said no more, but when he spoke his eyes roamed Max's bare chest once more as his hand reached into his pocket.

"Then wh-" But Max never got to finish his question. A searing pain shot through his chest. His body jerked, and as he cried out, his eyes shut tight. However, instead of darkness, he still saw white, as the electrical shock dispersed throughout his entire body. Its hot white energy caused his nerves to seem on fire. Time and time again he learned the hard way; pain was unending in a place like this. Just when he thought the lesson was over for the moment, it started all over again.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART TWELVE

Four months after graduation
Canada

"Ready for your weekly dream walk?" Isabel asked Liz, as she settled back onto her pillows.

Tucking her hair nervously behind her ear, Liz nodded. Even after doing this so many times, she still felt apprehensive each time she connected with Isabel. The possibility of getting lost… she knew it was irrational, they had done it so many times, but she couldn't help it. However, this time was even more nerve wracking for her… even though her parents now knew the truth, well part of it anyway from the Evans and her own 'visits', she finally felt it was time for them to know everything. She was going to tell them to read her journal. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Ok. So, just like the other times, let yourself relax, clear your mind. When you're ready, focus on your parents, and just your parents." Isabel instructed as she had countless times before.

Willing her hands to cease their shaking as they laid in Isabel's, Liz was grateful that Isabel never used the same words Max had so long ago. She took several deep breaths, counting as she inhaled and exhaled. She slowly began to calm down and as her mind drifted she tried to think of her parents and only them.

"Honey?" Liz turned around at her mother's voice. As she took in her parents' appearances she smiled.

"On time as usual. Come here Lizzie." Her father commented lightly, stretching his arms outward for a hug. She ran to him and was soon wrapped, not only in his embrace, but her mother's as well.

"We're glad you're still all right," her mother stated as she smoothed her once again brown hair.

"I'm glad you guys are too." Liz replied, already tearing up with emotion. It was so hard being apart from them, she almost found it hard to believe that she said she was ready to leave them behind just last year. "Maria told me that the agents finally left." She paused, still hesitant about revealing the events of the past three years.

"Yeah, I think we finally managed to convince them we didn't know anything more. I just wish you could come back, honey."

"I know dad. But, maybe some day you guys can come to live with me, when it's safe enough. And I really hope that day will come. However, there's something I need to tell you."

"I thought you already told us everything, what else could there be?" Her mother asked before she could continue.

"I did, sort of. I told you the basics, what you needed to know so that these visits wouldn't scare you, but you don't know the details-the full story. All the reasons why I would sneak out at night, would leave in the middle of my shifts, why I seemed upset and secretive, why Max and I landed in jail… yet still loved each other more than anyone could even imagine. I kept a journal of everything that happened to me over the last three years. It starts with the Crashdown shooting and ends right before graduation. I had originally planned to take it with me, but after what happened I decided it best it remained hidden… just in case. Now that the agents seem to be out of Roswell, I think it's safe that you guys read it. And though it may not make sense at first, you'll find a diamond ring with it too. Please don't get upset. I, Max, all of us… have been through so much. We've endured things most people never have to in their entire lives. The only constant thing was love and friendship among us. I warn you, a lot of misunderstandings happened between me and Max, but we worked through it. No matter how bad it sounds, just know I was safe when I was with him, I really was. Don't hate him. If it wasn't for him, I would have died four years ago. If it wasn't for him, I would never have known true love. And if it wasn't for him, graduation would have been a worse tragedy than it was." Once she had started, it all came tumbling out, but at the thought of Max, she started to falter and finally had to stop, before she broke down and possibly lost the connection.

Both her parents were shocked in to silence for a few moments. Then her dad sputtering broke out of it, "D-d-diamond ring??"

A slight smile lit her face at the magical memory of his proposal. He had been so earnest, so sweet, so wonderful…so Max. He had been the Max she had missed for much of the previous year. "You'll read about it in the journal. Please just promise you'll save your judgments till after you're done reading?" She pleadingly looked at them.

They regarded her for a moment, seeing how important this was to her. "Of course," they agreed.

"Thank you." She hugged them both, smiling. "You'll find it in the wall between my room and the balcony, there's a loose brick. Be careful. I love you both. I'll see you next week." With that she kissed them both goodbye and faded away as she closed the connection.

She slowly opened her eyes and found Isabel keenly watching her. Without her asking, Liz assured her, "It'll be ok," giving her a serene smile. She was starting to believe things may actually get better… that it will be okay.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART THIRTEEN

A week earlier
Art Gallery- Seattle, Washington

It was quiet in the afternoons. The critics and buyers seemed to prefer coming in the evenings or the mornings leaving their afternoons open for meetings. The tourist groups were less frequent at this time of year. Only a few people strolled leisurely throughout the gallery admiring the work, particularly the latest exhibition that had opened two weeks ago.

Presently three people stood in this exhibitory wing, two of them a young couple whispering about the paintings and the mysterious artist. The third was a tall man with black hair and the stormiest eyes one could ever see. Before the couple had entered he had taken his own tour of the show; each painting he viewed causing his gray eyes to seem increasingly cloudier. He had finally stopped in front of the painting titled, "Stolen Childhood."

This painting had been the last one he created. This was the one that still hurt him the most whenever he saw it. Each painting held pain for him, memories hidden in the strokes, but this one especially wracked him with guilt. Max's life had ended too shortly and his childhood even more so. Though he had a rough time growing up through the foster system, he finally understood that not everything was perfect about Max's life either. The child he had painted perfectly captured Max's intense expression conveying a deep seriousness and unnaturally strong sense of responsibility. Just like in reality the child remained alone, vigilantly watching but never enjoying. Max never had a real childhood. Unlike Michael, Max barely gave himself the luxury to just shirk responsibilities and have fun. Even on their Vegas trip, Max had been on alert. He wasn't a robot, just a kid that had to grow up faster than anybody else. He had an entire planet counting on him; on earth he watched out for them and was expected to lead them through every crisis. In his short life, he had endured unimaginable pain and had still managed to pull himself together. And twice he died to save another. In every possible aspect, his childhood had been stolen.

Painting all the work that hung on these walls had been somewhat cathartic for him. It helped him to deal with his confusing emotions providing him an outlet to express them. It helped him not miss Maria as much. But once they were done, he was suddenly surrounded by the emotions that had been whirling within him and deep down still did. His guilt was all encompassing and the paintings had become the salt in an open wound. The thing is he didn't want to stop; it's as if he felt this was his penance. To never forget. If he had listened, had stayed with them, things could have been different.

As he stood there ignoring the whispering couple he half expected his agent to show up again. Since the show opened she had been after him to sell his paintings. As tempting as the prices she quoted were, it didn't feel right to him. It wasn't what these paintings were for.

***** Michael stood nervously in the gallery's foyer, scratching at his eyebrow and constantly adjusting his tie. Somehow his agent had convinced him to wear a tux tonight; apparently his work had attracted a number of powerful, high-society people. This was his chance of a lifetime. If this turned out as successful as she was predicting he'd be set for life.

He glanced back to where curtains shrouded the entrance of his exhibit. The gallery owner impressed with his work had provided an entire wing for him and granted the paintings to hang for a whole month. The past few days he had set them up, ensuring the right amount of light hit each painting so that none would be over-shadowed by another. Not only were the spotlights aligned perfectly, the paintings were at the right angles to take advantage of the skylight during the day. He wished he were in there right now, hidden by the curtains. Was it necessary for him to be there at all?

When he came to Seattle he had intended to stay as low profile as possible, getting a job as a construction worker. After he got a decent enough place to settle in, he bought a few art supplies for something to do on the weekends, choosing not to socialize with the guys at work so much. Sometimes he would take a walk, sit in a random spot and start sketching. When he sketched he would focus on the subject solely, almost forgetting to keep his guard up for any possible agents. One day when he heard a voice behind him he had thought for a moment that that was it for him. However, as he turned around and saw a slender red headed woman and realized the voice had been friendly and feminine he calmed down. She told him that she was an agent (not government) and was interested in representing him if he ever decided to go public with his work. He declined, but she was rather insistent-saying he had a raw talent she had not seen in long time. As she turned to leave she gave him her card and said to call her when he changed his mind. Her quick, persistent attitude left him in a slight stupor. There was something about her that seemed so familiar that as much as he wanted to say no, he heard himself call out to her, "I'll come by tomorrow." His outburst was rewarded with a bright smile and that's when he realized, she was so much like Maria.

So here he was, greeting all the guests to the unveiling of his exhibit. They milled around sipping at drinks, nibbling at some crackers or whatever small thing being served on the trays; his agent mingling among them. Glancing at them all, he wished he could be eating a burger somewhere or drinking at a bar watching some sports.

Just when he couldn't take it any longer they finally announced the commencement of the evening. They called him up and he mumbled a short explanation to his paintings and opened the curtains before they could say anything. He seriously wanted this night over with. As they all entered, the crowd was immediately silenced. For minutes no one said anything, all of them wide eyed as they gazed at the paintings. Finally someone breathed out, "Breathtaking." The soft words seemed to break the spell and they all began to murmur among themselves as they slowly passed by each painting. At this he decided to get some air. He never went back in, but he didn't leave either. He just looked up at the sky.

Later on his agent approached him excitedly. "Ray, you're a hit! Just as I predicted, they love it, they love you! You won't believe the offers for your paintings. A couple of usual high-bidders are looking to take the entire collection!" She continued to bubble out, but he spoke over her.

"They're not for sale."

After a few seconds, she back pedaled a bit, then exclaimed, "What?"

"They are not for sale."

"But Ray, think about all this money. Just consider the offers. I mean, if you're planning on waiting a bit, have more people view them, no worries."

"I'm not waiting. I'm not selling."

"Why?" Her voice was almost hushed now in comparison to earlier.

"I-they're just not for sale." He couldn't explain it to her. No one would ever understand without knowing the whole story and that was not an option. *****

He hadn't realized he had been staring off into space for so long that he was startled by a voice. "Excuse me, but are you Ray Harris?"

Regarding the couple in front of him, he guardedly replied, "Yeah."

They glanced at each other with broad smiles. Then the female gushed on, "We love your paintings. Every one of them is beautiful. Whatever inspired you…it's just, amazing. Anyway, we were wondering if you would mind giving us an autograph?"

He didn't know what to say. He never expected such a request and he was still reeling from the reminder of his inspiration. "Autograph?"

"I'm sorry… it's just when we heard none of these were for sale, we wanted something to remind us of this… experience of seeing them. And the fact that we could get to meet the creator of all this… I'm sorry" The woman profusely apologized, blushing embarrassedly.

"No, it's fine. I was just surprised." He tried to smile to reassure her.

They gave him a book and pen and he signed it with his usual 'insignia' that graced all his paintings. A linked 'r' and 'H' that looked like an 'M', he knew it was risky, but this was art, he didn't think the agents would think to look there. They left soon after he signed it and he was alone again with his paintings.

He finally tore himself away from the last one and went back to gaze at the others. There was one of a lounge, all tinged in blue except for the black and white singer and the small doorway showing a glimpse of a bright colorful casino where a winning couple hugged in celebration at a table. Another was of a carnival, a group of young kids running ahead of their parents to the Ferris wheel, where couples could be seen holding each other. In the corner of that was a tent, the fortune teller gazing through the flaps of black, illuminated by a white crystal ball surrounded by her laid out tarot cards. Another was a park, where under a tree sat a couple enjoying a picnic. One was of the beach, all teeming with life and color except for two kids digging a moat around a sand castle, one of them being the same boy as his last painting. One showed a girl walking her Dalmatian in a small town, her sneakers gray, but a distinctive Kermit patch of white was on it. Another showed kids sitting around a campfire, lit in color, while the little boy and girl that had shown in many of the paintings ran off into the dark woods. The last one he focused on was an image of a house, similar to the Evans one, a small toddler attempting to walk to his mother whose arms were outstretched, as the father watched their black and white forms from the shadowed doorway.

Each displayed his mistakes, his dreams, his fears, his hopes, his deepest desires and regrets. They were never meant to be sold. They were meant to be seen by the ones he could never see again.

As the sunlight began to dim he finally moved to leave. He stood up taking one last parting look of the mother and child painting. Leaving the exhibition he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. Feeling something odd, he paused, digging deeper into his left pocket. Catching onto something he pulled it out and found a piece of paper. Reading the scrawled message he suddenly tensed and began to search the place, but no one was around besides the security guards; even the couple was gone. Wondering if this was a set up he committed the message to memory then crumpled it up and tossed it away, his hand glowing ever so slightly as he passed a trash can. With one last sweeping gaze of the gallery he left.

Across the street a shadowed figure observed 'Ray' turn up the collar of his jacket against the cold wind.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART FOURTEEN

The Day Before
Seattle, Washington
A Townhouse

It was raining today, the wind howled, loudly proclaiming the entering storm. The streets were wet and deserted among the quiet suburban area of the city. The lights glowed from each house except for one. This one appeared desolate revealing no presence or light through its shrouded windows; however, hidden in the den, sat one man.

He sat before the hearth, gathering the warmth spilling from its flames. In his hand twirled a small white card, one that he had glanced upon often in the past three weeks. A phone number and the letters L, A, N and G were printed on it. He had gotten it three weeks ago; on the day he had been fired.

***** He stayed in the small dark room still shaken by the confrontation with his boss. His mind was thinking of various plans to get his family to safety, but he felt none of them were secure enough to depend on. All he knew was the sooner he left the better. He waited until the noise outside the observation room died down; signaling that the transport of the prisoner had begun.

Glancing through the one-way glass again at the darkened examination room, now appearing bigger than it actually was, he cautiously stepped through the door. No one was there anymore; even the permanently stationed soldiers outside the main door to this secured section had left. He turned to the right toward the locker room where each agent could place any needed belongings, as there were times when they would be there all day and night. He quickly emptied his locker and ensured his gun had plenty of ammunition; just in case. As he vacated the room, he saw a general walking in his direction. He stood in place hoping the general would do the usual curt nod and continue on his way, but instead the general addressed him. "Still alive?"

The young agent gaped in shock at the blunt question, unsure if he should answer. "I saw what you did, I admire it. Nice to know there are still some decent men in your unit."

Not sure why he felt compelled to be honest with this general the agent corrected him, "It's not my unit anymore."

"Oh? Well then perhaps you'd like to help me. Here." He handed him a card discreetly which after a slight hesitation he took. "If you believe in true justice, give me a call."

He turned to leave, but after one step looked over his shoulder at the agent, "By the way if I were you, I'd look for help in those you can always depend on and head as far as you can from here-in any direction."

The agent nodded slightly then placed the card in his pocket. As he looked back up the general had disappeared from sight. *****

He had chosen to go west. His wife had family in Montana so he dropped her and their son there and continued towards the coast, finally settling in Seattle. Every week he called to check up on them, scrambling the line. Each time he reminded them of their emergency plan in their special code. The reason they were so up North was so if need be they could become Canucks. All they would have to do is go up to Vancouver and officially the Unit could not follow. But, if there were any agents that believed they were above the law, he was ready for them.

Still as focused as he was to get his family to safety and be able to support them with his now bank teller job, he was often plagued by guilt. All alone in the house his mind would wander to the young dark-haired prisoner of the Unit. He would always remind himself that the boy was an enemy of the nation, a threat, a genuine dangerous ET. Yet, the last memory of him always brought doubt and would cause him to consider the card once more. "True justice" the man had said. Was that necessarily a better thing than what the Unit was doing to handle the enemy? Would it be to free him, possibly putting the nation in danger? Would it be to kill him, putting him out of misery, but then committing cold-blooded murder? Would he have to be the one to do that? Could he do that? He knew that when he entered the Unit he had to be prepared to be sent out on missions to hunt the enemy down and kill them, but then they had wanted this one alive. All they had to do was aid in interrogation, preparation and transport. Still, the general admired his humane action towards the prisoner. Perhaps the general knew more. Perhaps he had been part of the wrong side all along-nothing about the Unit felt patriotic, just terrifying. Terror was exactly what he had seen in the eyes of the prisoner…

***** He was sent in to prepare the prisoner for transport after the ice treatment. As he entered the white room he saw two agents dressed in the typical procedure decontamination suit drying off the prisoner. The prisoner was shivering between them, trying to curl up, as they roughly rubbed the towel on him. He moved towards them, the scrubs in hand. As soon as they were done he handed them the scrubs and they proceeded to dress the prisoner, which proved difficult in his curled up form. Afterwards they left taking the tub of icy water with them.

He continued to observe the prisoner who could not stop shaking. He squatted down by him seeing how cold he was and checking his pulse. The prisoner's skin had a bluish tint to it and his eyes seemed unable to focus on anything; he was going into hypothermic shock. They needed to warm him up or he'd die. He signaled to one of the newer rookie agents who had followed him in there with the gurney. "Get a blanket and tea, coffee or hot water-just something hot. Now."

The rookie instantly left following his orders. He turned back to the shivering prisoner, whose eyes remained downcast. He glanced back to the wall he knew had the one-way glass. He had better do what he was sent in there for; hopefully the prisoner could hold out until the other agent came back. He unhooked the cuffs he carried and proceeded to restrain the prisoner. He thought how unnecessary it seemed in light of their prisoner's condition, but he was not to question orders. The prisoner did not struggle as the restraints were placed around his ankles, but as the agent moved to gather his wrists, he pushed further into the corner of the room. He tried to wrap his shivering arms around his thin weak body, but the agent easily overpowered him and bound his hands in front of him. By that time the rookie was back with the blanket, which the agent proceeded to wrap around the prisoner. The prisoner glanced at it questioningly, but said nothing. The agent then placed the hot tea in his shivering hands helping him move it to his quivering lips. "Drink" the agent commanded.

That's when he saw the eyes. It was only for a brief second, but the eyes showed how scared he was; how much pain he was in; and the surprise that he was granted something to drink. He sipped at the tea, unable to steadily hold on to it. After drinking a third of the cup he stopped, his breaths seeming less erratic now. Though they came out in wavering long-drawn puffs, he attempted to speak, "Tha…than…kyou."

The agent remained silent, surprised at the gratitude and the fact the prisoner looked at him again. For the most part the prisoner would always stare at the floor in their presence. Though the pain and fear remained evident in his eyes, the sincerity of his broken, softly spoken words shone through too. *****

That look was what continued to haunt him-a look of innocence, even in the depths of great pain and despair. That wasn't the look of a hardened killer. It didn't seem to correlate to the numerous pictures of victims with silver handprints, nor the explosion of the army base. He seemed human in every way that counted, so shouldn't he be granted the same rights?

His fingers stilled at this thought, ceasing its unending twirling of the card. One hand reached out to the phone nearby and dialed. After a few moments the line was picked up, "um… General… Lang?" He stopped speaking as soon as the voice replied, listening intently. He scribbled something down and then as he heard the click in his ear, hung up the phone. He glanced down at what he wrote; wondering what the message meant, but then moved on to the address-looks like he was going to an art show tomorrow.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART FIFTEEN

Five months after graduation
Albuquerque, New Mexico
University of New Mexico

Kyle was exhausted after practice today. It was odd, he never seemed to get so tired before, but it could just be the strain of the added stress of his new environment, classes and competition. His roommate wasn't back yet, so he decided to crash for a bit. He collapsed onto his bed and soon entered a dark dream world.

He was surrounded by utter darkness. Even though it seemed to stretch out in all directions, he couldn't help the strong feeling of suffocation. Was he having the nightmare where a person wakes up in a coffin? He tried to change the dream, wake up, something, but the darkness remained and the feeling of sheer panic took over. Though he knew this had to be a dream, the fear building within him would not stop. He tried all his methods to calm himself and finally he was able to concentrate past the overwhelming terror he felt. That's when he heard it. "Somebody let me out. Please, let me out!" No, it couldn't be. He almost called out his departed friend's name, but muffled speaking made him stop. He strained to hear, but could not discern a word. He could hear heavy, fast gasps and the same voice continue to plead, "Please, let me out." Kyle automatically moved forward to help, but found he couldn't. That's when he realized, he was extremely cold, and felt something tight around his limbs. Then things got worse. A sudden rush of wetness touched his body and the voice he heard began to scream, "Stop! Please, stop!" The muffled voice came back, but the sound of rushing water made it absolutely impossible to understand. Kyle struggled against whatever held him back, but nothing budged. He thought he heard choking sounds and in between, the words, "Please…let…me…out."

That's when he woke up, sweaty and gasping for breath.
_ _ _

The next day
UNM, Albuquerque, New Mexico
Maria's dorm

"All right, what is it?" Maria asked with slight exasperation over Kyle's constantly moving leg and avoidance of whatever issue was bothering him.

"I… what do you mean? I just came over to hang out as usual…" He trailed off as Maria slapped a hand on his leg ceasing its anxious motion.

"Kyle. This is me. Usually you want to go out somewhere, but we're still here… and… what is troubling you so much? I have never seen you so agitated before, except…" She too trailed off, not wanting to mention her and ruin her (already increasingly testy) mood.

"Yeah, I know... it's just, I'm not sure how to bring it up." Kyle looked away.

"How's this for an opening-tell me what happened." She craned her neck so that she caught his eye again.

He snorted slightly, "I… can we go somewhere first? It's one of those things… I think."

"Sure, let me just get my coat."

~ ~ ~

They had walked for a while in the nearby park. Just as Maria was wondering if Kyle was ever going to tell her what was wrong, he spoke. "Last night… I had a dream." He took a deep breath, as the fear he felt during the dream rushed back.

"It was so dark and I felt like I couldn't breathe too well… kind of like I woke up in a coffin." They had stopped walking now, Kyle staring off as if he was in that dream again, while Maria watched him in concern.

"I was scared out of my mind and it was so weird because even when I tried to calm myself down and remind myself it was a dream, the fear wouldn't subside, like it was its own force. But I think it actually wasn't mine at all." He suddenly turned to look Maria straight in the eyes, waiting for her realization of the implication.

She regarded him uncertainly, "What…what do you mean it wasn't yours?"

"I heard a voice. He was so scared, begging someone to let him out of wherever he was. It was Max."

"No." She shook her head vehemently and took a step back.

"Maria…" Kyle reached out to stop her, but she moved further away.

"No! No, it was a dream. He's dead! Don't do this, Kyle… I can't take it. I can't." She was literally at the edge of breaking down.

"But what if it wasn't? What if…" Kyle looked so lost, trying to plead otherwise, but already faltering with doubt.

"Don't say it! It's been months, Kyle, months! It's not possible." She whispered out her last denial, a tear already escaping down her face.

Kyle wiped it away, "I'm sorry for upsetting you, it was just so real."

Maria remained silent for a moment, composing herself. "I know. I wish things were different too… everyday." Kyle draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. She sniffed, willing herself to not cry. Still holding on to each other, they turned back up the path towards the campus.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART SIXTEEN

A day later
In the depravation tank
(Some quotes taken from It's Too Late, & It's Too Bad)

"Max."

He stiffened at the sound of her voice, startled and wary of yet another confrontation. He turned slowly trying to school his expression, "I thought you were going to Sweden."

"I realized I was wrong. I… just wanted to know what happened to him so badly. I can't believe that he killed himself. I'm sorry I took it out on you."

"I understand. I'm sorry too. I'm glad you came back, that you're safe. But really Liz, why are you here?" He was relieved that she was giving up on her quest; that she wasn't running blindly into danger. But so much was said between them, so much had happened to pull them apart. He wondered why she would try to find him out so quickly.

"I thought I'd find you here."

She looked at him in a way he hadn't seen in what felt like ages. A look that made him feel he was the luckiest guy in the world; that told him she loved him; a look that would have made him feel complete if he didn't feel so broken. His trust in her had wavered over the last few months and with their current rift it was hard for him to know what to feel and how to act around her. He wanted so much to keep her in his life, but she had to understand. "My whole life I've wanted to be this person, this normal person. Human. My whole life I've been thinking that this alien side of me was this bad thing. This thing that made me a freak. This monster. I realize that I haven't just been hiding from the government and the law all this time. I've been hiding from myself. I don't know what's going on anymore. I thought I knew, but I don't. I've lost everyone." He turned back towards her taking in her morose face, "I've lost you."

"No you haven't." She moved closer to him, lightly touching his hand and tilting her face towards his. "I'll be here for eternity."

He didn't understand how things were able to progress so fast between them after everything, but this was what he had wanted so badly. He wanted her back. He wanted to be with her. He had forgiven her for being with Kyle. It still hurt, but not as much as it had when he thought he had completely lost her. When he thought their friendship was truly over. He needed her and gave in to his desire passionately. When the kiss ended he gazed into her eyes, barely noticing them flicker to blue before returning to their deep brown. "This has to be a dream." He whispered out, his doubts at full force with the end of the spell the kiss had cast over him.

"I want you Max. I love you. I always have. Come with me. Trust me. It's time for this to be more than a dream." She smiled seductively at him. But then she faltered for a moment, slight concern emanating from her eyes, "Are you ready?"

He smiled down at her, while his heart leapt within his chest, unable to believe this was happening. However, the desire was too strong for him to question it verbally, "I'm ready to wake up now." He leaned in to kiss her. This time it lasted longer, the force seemingly stronger. He never realized that the connection was nothing like it had been a year ago.

Having been alerted that the prisoner had finally calmed down Agent Felding and Agent Hammers entered the observation room to watch the instant feed from the depravation tank. They saw the prisoner seemingly asleep. Its eyes were closed, but its lips twitched slightly followed by its hands straining against the cuffs that held it tight. The electrodes attached to it alerted the agents to its increase in heart beat and temperature. They also noticed a concentration of heat below its waist.

Agent Hammers sneeringly commented, "My, my, I'm sure we all know what's it's thinking about." The others laughed quietly at that, their eyes still trained on their prisoner.

He let her lead him into the observatory, while he trailed kisses up her arm from her hand to shoulder. She smiled coyly, finally ending their journey in the center of the observatory. Though his mind felt muddled under his heightened emotions, he managed to glance around, aware that they were in a very public place, even deserted as it was. "Umm… Liz, are you sure about this? I mean I want this to be perfect. I want our first time to be perfect." He didn't mean to imply her first time with Kyle with that and was glad she did not seem to notice and take offense.

"It will be, because it's us. A blanket is all we need. Do you trust me, Max?"

He didn't even think, "Yes."

"Come here then." She gently brought him upon the blanket suddenly laid out on the floor.

They began kissing again, but something began to nag at Max. He abruptly moved away from her lips, "No, this is wrong."

"How can it be? This is what we've both wanted for such a long time."

"I…" his argument seemed to die in his throat at her assured gaze. He couldn't even recall what it was that he had said. "Wait, I… I don't have protection."

"We don't need it."

That proclamation caused him to stop breathing for a moment. "Are… are you sure?"

She didn't say anything and just pulled him closer for another kiss. They slowly began to undress each other, but as their shirts came off and the cool air touched his exposed skin, Max stiffened. The nagging in his mind was back, something did not feel right. Liz continued to kiss him, holding his hand, not noticing his rigid demeanor. He couldn't seem to stop himself no matter how hard he tried, her kisses seemed intoxicating. His eyes remained closed, but suddenly images began to flash in his mind.

The images were abrupt and broken, like random shots. They were outside again, but instead of Liz, Tess came up to him. He heard her say, "I thought I'd find you here." Oddly he saw himself remain motionless, continuing to stare up instead of turning to her as he had remembered-correction turning to Liz. Tess was never there.

The soft sound of splashing water was heard as the prisoner's fingers drummed out a random beat. The agents peered curiously at this, unsure if its agitation was returning or if it was something else entirely-perhaps something extra-terrestrial.

She was suddenly closer stating she was there for eternity, her blue eyes staring sincerely at his lost, broken amber ones. He saw them kiss, her hair switching between brown and blonde. He was so confused, *what was happening?*, but before he could react, he heard himself say, "I'm ready to wake up now." His voice sounded so dead.

His eyes flew open, finding his hands tangled in short blonde curls instead of long brown locks. He tore himself away from her, repulsed by the sight. "No!"

"Max what's wrong?" He heard Liz's voice, but all he saw was Tess.

"You're not Liz. You're not her."

"What are you talking about, of course I am."

He shook his head and pushed himself back trying to distance himself from her. "No," he whispered out "you're not Liz. This can't be real. This is wrong."

He made the mistake of looking away and before he realized, she was upon him again. His jumbled, hurt emotions and confused mind made him vulnerable and she was in control in a matter of seconds. He tried to fight it, but he wasn't strong enough, or perhaps he was just tired of fighting. He remained still, while she explored his body. He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what he knew was about to happen. Not that it mattered either way, by the night was over, she would have her version of the events planted in his memory.

The prisoner became increasingly agitated. Its fingers caused larger splashes in the water. Its head shook slightly in place, unable to move far with the metal band holding it down. Murmurs were heard from the prisoner and the agents increased the volume. They heard it whispering 'no' over and over. More tears flowed down the previously made tracks on its cheeks.

His movements were mechanical, but as the scene played out images of himself enjoying it immensely were interspersed. At times he saw himself smiling adoringly at Liz, other times the petite body would change to Tess', but no reaction to the change registered on his face.

The scene shifted and he saw sunlight streaming through the observatory windows. He felt lightheaded but strangely at the same time, felt as if he had been heavily drugged. He couldn't focus well on his surroundings, but he felt somebody lying at his side. The memories came slowly and his first thought was *Liz*. He bent down kissing her gently on the head. But he didn't breathe in her familiar scent. Before he could say anything he felt something clamp down on his protests.

All he saw now was Tess. His memories of the night flooded his mind, a night of lustful passion with his 'former wife'. He wanted to feel ill, but he found he couldn't feel anything. His face was a mask hiding what he desperately wanted to show. He saw her stir and he plastered a smile on his face when she smiled at him. After they greeted each other she went back to sleep and he held her close so that she could not see the tears that stung at his eyes. He didn't realize that his face remained frozen in its emotionless mask, the fake smile already fading. Inside though, he could feel again and all he could think is that it should have been Liz. But it was too late for that now.

At that thought his mind shifted to another time when he had felt completely broken. The room was the setting of his nightmares and the hell he lived in now. This memory though was when he had betrayed them all-he had given up the location of the orbs. He was terrified that they would continue to use the same threats to get everything else out of him. He knew he'd rather die first, but he was equally scared of how they would kill him and when. His torturer was back showing him the orbs, the satisfied smirk back on his face. But he wanted him to make the orbs work. He wouldn't believe that he didn't know how. He knew his end was coming when he heard the cold words, *let's begin*. He gave up. He laid down bracing himself for the burning pain about to slice through his chest.

As the blade cut into his skin, his mind shifted again. This time it retreated farther back until he found himself in a palace. He laid upon silky sheets, fully clothed waiting for someone. The place felt familiar somehow but he did not have time to dwell on it. He heard crashing outside of the room and was immediately on his feet. His newlywed wife and childhood friend stepped into the room in panicked concern, "What's happening, my love?"

"Stay back. I'll handle it." His hand glowed briefly in her direction placing an invisible energy shield to protect her. Satisfied, he turned to the door, the crashes sounding louder and closer with each passing moment. He strode towards it, ready to face whoever stood beyond the closed doors. But the doors opened before he reached them, instantly followed by a blast driven into his chest. He stumbled back, falling onto his knees and then struggled to get back up. "Kivar." He called out to his enemy. The rumors of dissension among the planets had been true; they had joined forces with Kivar and were attempting to usurp him. He managed a few blasts towards Kivar, but the one in his chest continued to burn through, weakening him.

Kivar stooped by his knelt form, "So nice to see you Zan and already bowing in acceptance to my deserved position as king. Too bad you won't be there for the coronation. It'll be quite an affair with Vilandra and possibly Ava by my side." He leered towards Ava, who now pounded against the shield desperate to get out and save her husband-her friend.

Rage flowed throughout his body and he raised his hand towards Kivar, "You will never lay a hand on them!" Unfortunately, Kivar was too fast and placed a burning hand upon his chest. He refused to scream, but the pain became unbearable. As he cried out in agony, Kivar just laughed, darting glances at a now wavering energy shield in front of a horrified Ava.

He felt his energy waning, his soul was departing as his body burned internally. Gathering what little strength he retained he uttered a promise, "Let fate show you the same kindness and loyalty you have shown me." At his last word the end came and his body fell unceremoniously to the ground.

"What was that?" Agent Felding demanded the technician. Flustered, the technician clumsily programmed one of the screens to play back the last few minutes. After a few moments of protests, the prisoner had quieted and then…

"There, stop there." Felding pointed. The tape began to play again, showing the prisoner utterly still. Its head tilted back slightly, its chin angled upwards. Then they heard it speak. They could not discern any of the words. The nonsensical sounds were low, but almost lyrical. However, each word increased in volume, accompanied by an expression of anger upon their prisoner's face. Its words were shorter, succinct, the angry tone unmistakable. Then suddenly all was silent. They saw the prisoner's hands pack tightly into fists and its whole body seemed to strain against the metal bonds. Then increasing the volume, they heard its final whispered words. Once uttered, its body went limp, a slight splash resounding in the tank. The agents heard its heartbeat slow into a steady resting rhythm and its temperature dropped.

Agent Felding turned back to the instant feed and saw no change. The prisoner did not move. Its eyes remained closed. Saying more to himself he breathed, "What the hell was that?"

He turned to the technician, "Continue observation for two more hours. If there is no further response, get it out of there. Apparently it didn't keep its promise."

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART SEVENTEEN

Six months after graduation
Canada
(Song (w/ a couple of alterations): See the Sun by Dido)

Today was the last official day of classes for the term. Having only two classes in the morning, Liz had the rest of the day to herself. She strolled around town, humming softly to herself, a feeling of happiness and peace that she hadn't felt in a years emanating from her. This elation did not stem from her freedom of classes, but the promising vision she received early this morning.

I'm coming round to open the blinds
You can't hide here any longer
My god you need to rinse those puffy eyes
You can't lie still any longer
And yes they'll ask you where you've been
And you'll have to tell them again and again

A small part of her doubted it still, but as the rare sunny day remained and brightened the day the more she believed in it. Having concentrated on the images for hours she was sure she had seen her friends with her and Isabel here, celebrating together. She had also seen a large home, warm, inviting and safe. 'Safe' had been one of the many missing things in her life here, as doubt and haunting memories held her back from embracing her new life fully. Yet as each day passed and with each dream walk to her parents, Maria and Kyle, she slowly regained confidence that the danger may have passed.

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
But I promise you you'll see the sun again
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
And I promise you, you'll see the sun again

She passed through the town's market street, admiring the flowers as she breathed in their sweet scents. Spying the latest scrumptious offerings of fruit, she decided to buy some. Perhaps she could make some pie, probably not as good as the ones Maria's mom had made for the Crash though. She had chosen a selection of the apples and pears on offer, but as she turned to the next stall she stopped cold. Even now the memories were so strong that the mere sight of the red aphrodisiacs could bring her to tears.

Come on take my hand
We're going for a walk, I know you can
You can wear anything as long as it's not black
Please don't mourn forever he's not coming back
And yes they'll ask you where you've been
And you'll have to tell them again and again

She wished she could have that time again, things would have occurred so differently. Nothing would have stopped her then, not his insecurities, not hers, not her parents' disapproval and certainly not a so-called destiny. But that time had passed and even her visions were guiding her to move on. She needed to live, Max would have wanted that.

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
But I promise you you'll see the sun again
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
And I promise you, you'll see the sun again

Even when things were rocky between them he had still wanted her to be happy. He wanted all of her dreams to come true… but the one she wanted most was to be with him.

Do you remember telling me you'd found the sweetest thing of all
You said one day of this was worth dying for
So be thankful you knew him at all
But it's no more

She almost had it, they almost had it, but it had been cruelly taken away, he had been taken away. She pretended to push a stray hair aside as she brushed a tear away. He may not be physically there anymore, but he would always live on as long as they remembered him. Tonight was a night for embracing a true, new start and he would be there in spirit. She stepped forward to the vendor purchasing a basket of what would turn out to be the sweetest strawberries she'd ever taste; as well as a handful of blackberries.

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day
But I promise you you'll see the sun again
And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness
And I promise you, you'll see the sun again

~ ~ ~

The fruits had begun to weigh heavily on her arms, but she couldn't leave this area just yet. Something seemed to draw her to this place, almost as if calling her. She walked slowly along the streets allowing the silent call to guide her way. The sense of its pull finally dissipated as she approached the driveway of a lovely house. The structure was not at first eye-catching, rather a simple quaint cottage style. As she pondered why she seemed to have been led here, the scarf in her hair had finally loosened its hold and in a sudden gust from the day's breeze flew off toward the house's steps. Placing her bags to the side she quickly went to retrieve it. As she stooped down to lift it she saw the most peculiar sight. Images flashed rapidly in her mind, alternating between an image of some blueprint and an actual house's interior. The image of the interior seemed familiar to her, spacious, beautifully decorated and homey… that's when it hit her-the vision. She was standing in the driveway of her new home. Excitement built within her, she could not wait to tell Isabel. As she turned to leave a car drove up to the house. A friendly woman of average height and curly chestnut hair stepped out, pulling a sign from her car. Smiling at Liz, she went to the small lawn area in the front and drove her sign into the ground-'House for Sale'. Seeing her opportunity Liz expressed her interest in the house and was soon rewarded with a detailed information sheet, the price range and an appointment to view the house the following week.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART EIGHTEEN

December 17, 2002
(Song- Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas)

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
From now on our troubles will be out of sight,

"You were right, Liz. It's perfect. How did you know?" Isabel breathed out as she took in the sight of their potential new home-not house, but home.

"I'll tell you later." She replied with a pointed look then went back to admiring the place. "Shall we make it final?"

"Yes. I can already see them here…I…we have to take it. You're sure it's safe enough?"

"Positive." Liz smiled at her sister, for once in a long time she felt confident and secure in her decision. She signaled to the realtor who came forward, forms in hand.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Make the Yuletide gay
From now on our troubles will be miles away,

Kyle parked the car in front of his home, smiling at the sight. After his long drive he was ready to reacquaint himself with his comfy bed. Before he could step out of the car though, his dad was already out the door. Just as he was enveloped in his father's hug, he saw that Ms. Deluca and Maria were standing in the doorway, waving and smiling at him. After the initial surprise of seeing them over, he smiled and waved back. It looked like his nap would have to wait a little longer.

Here we are as in olden days
Happy golden days of yore,
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us, once more,

A suited man with scarce graying hair entered an empty room to speak on his cell phone in private. "Yes Honey, I'll be home tomorrow. There's just one more thing I have to do tonight, then I can take leave for Christmas." He nodded a few times, "Yes, I'll remember to pick up the gifts. Don't worry; everything will be taken care of." He smiled, "I can't wait to see you either. Love you, bye." Ending the call, he quickly returned to the observation room. He addressed the men there, "Prepare the prisoner. We'll be starting shortly."

Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough,
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART NINETEEN

December 18, 2002
2:15 a.m. MT

Kyle smiled as he stretched out on his bed. He was dead tired, but the company made it worth staying up. Even after they left just two hours ago, he and his dad still stayed up catching up on news and some football. He sighed; it sure was good to be home. Christmas was almost there and for once he thought he could actually look forward to something. It had been two months since that disturbing dream and he was still 'green'-free. Maybe it was more than just being healed that caused the powers to manifest in Liz. Either way, he finally felt there was a chance for life to return back to normal, where he could be carefree. As his eyes closed, his face remained smiling, but soon twisted into an expression of horror.

He was in a room…of white tiles. No, not again. Why did he keep dreaming this? He pounded against the wall he faced hoping he could snap out of this dream. But nothing happened, hell, he didn't even hear the sound of his fist impacting with the wall. What he did hear though was the sound of clicking and scratching. He slowly turned around, "Holy crap!" He clamped a hand on his mouth, but it made no difference. The men ignored him and went about their task. Kyle held his breath as he stepped closer to the center of the room. He saw a machine with metal wires marking lines back and forth on paper, probably brain wave patterns. On the opposite side was another machine, this one with a dial, buttons and a screen for a heart rate monitor. Between these two machines was someone he never thought he would see again-Max. He looked so real, so alive, but his eyes were focused on the machine with the dial. The men around Max placed electrodes on his chest and the heart rate monitor lit up emitting beeps every few seconds. On other various points of Max's chest, arms, head and…*oh my god* Kyle froze; staring at what he hoped was not what it looked like. He began to chant, 'Max is dead, he's not really here; I'm not really here', over and over. But he still remained in the room. He could not tear his eyes away from his dead friend's naked lower body, wondering how his imagination could be so twisted and so vivid. Until, that is, he heard one of the men speak. "Let's begin." Kyle looked up in horror at the man who began to slowly turn up the dial. Kyle's gaze snapped back to Max, this time at his face and saw his eyes widen in surprise for a moment before shutting in pain. As Kyle woke from the dream he thought he heard Max scream out his name.

3:31am MT

This time Kyle didn't bother trying to calm down. There was no denying this dream. This was real, because how could his subconscious come up with all that? He'd never learned what happened to Max in there and those machines weren't something Kyle had seen before. He only guessed what they were, but for some reason while in the dream, he actually seemed to know their function and that knowledge had filled him with dread. As Kyle tried to remember details of the dream so he could tell his father, the sight that had shocked him to the core finally hit him. He suddenly felt very sick.

He ran to the bathroom and slammed the door, not even bothering to worry about waking his father and retched into the toilet. As he washed up, he heard a light knock on the door. "Kyle, you all right?"

Kyle just stared into the mirror, looking for something, anything to confirm what he knew must be true-he was turning into one of them. Yet, he could not see a green light in sight. "Kyle?" He heard his father ask again.

"Be right out." Kyle took one last look in the mirror-nothing. He frowned, wondering how he could not have developed powers yet. These dreams couldn't just be a horrific figment of his imagination, they were just too real. Kyle frustrated and deep in thought came out prepared to just shrug off his father's concern for now so he could think of what to tell him in the morning. Stepping out of the bathroom he heard his father begin, "Son, what happened? Another-"

"No, it was probably something I ate," Kyle interjected waving his hand towards his father as he walked back to his room. He glanced at the hall clock, only 3:40. Had he only slept for a little less than two hours? "I'm just going to try and sleep it off." Expecting a reply, Kyle found it odd that he was met with silence. He turned back to his father and for the second time that night was met with a shocking sight. His father, mouth still open, stood like a statue.

Kyle stepped closer, "Dad?" He held his hand in front of him, slowly moving it up and down-nothing. He then tried shaking his dad by the shoulders-still nothing. Starting to panic, the significance of this didn't even register in his mind. He frantically looked around for a way to fix this, his eyes settled on the phone-"Maria! Call Maria." He quickly began to dial.

After a few rings a sleepy voice finally came on, "this had better be good Valenti. It's 3:43 in the morning!"

"It's my dad, I… I froze him or something. I don't know how… one second I'm dreaming about Max, next I'm throwing up and then my dad is playing statue!" As he ranted into the phone, Kyle's free hand began to wave frantically in the direction of his father.

"-dream?" His father turned to stare at him oddly.

"Kyle? How did you get on the phone so fast? And who are you calling at this hour?"

"Uh…I'll call you back. I think he's come out of it." Kyle hung up the phone still looking at his dad as if he were a ghost.

"Well son? I'm waiting for an answer. What's going on?"

"Did you…I mean…are you…do you not remember what just happened?"

"Remember what? First I hear you rushing into the toilet and then I see you coming out, but the next second you're suddenly behind me on the phone?!"

Kyle shook his head. How? Could he actually freeze time? Or maybe just people…He turned to his father, "Dad, we need to talk. But I think we should get some coffee first, this may take awhile." Awhile was guaranteed, especially when it came to such unchartered territory as alien powers. His dad nodded and headed to the kitchen. As Kyle moved to follow, he glanced once again at the hall clock. 3:41a.m. What the? Didn't Maria say 3:43…a couple of minutes back? Was hers set a little faster? He'd have to ask her later-just to be sure. Then he remembered his alarm clock was the same time as the hall clock. He ran to his room and brought it out. On his clock the numbers 3:46 glowed back. On the hallway clock, the hands pointed to 3:42.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART TWENTY

Hours earlier
Canada

"Whew, we got through a lot of packing. I think it's time we called it a night." Liz commented as she wiped her brow.

"Go ahead. I'm still too wired to sleep just yet; I might as well pack some more. I can't wait to move in there." Isabel replied, excitement dancing from her eyes, especially at the thought of decorating and organizing a new home.

Liz laughed, knowing all too well how and why Isabel was so excited. "All right, goodnight then." She headed off to her room and after a quick shower; she snuggled under the warm covers ready for a deep, restful sleep. As she drifted off her hand settled lightly upon her stomach-just like it had when her stomach had once been graced with silver.

She saw a laboratory where various scientists were working and looking through microscopes. In the center she saw one talking to a general, smiles on both their faces. The scene suddenly changed and she found herself staring at a bare chest. She slowly glanced up and saw a face, familiar to her dream world now… "Max" she breathed out, reaching a hand out to caress his face, but it remained unseeing, unmoving. Before she could touch him, the scene changed again, and suddenly she was surrounded by men in army fatigues, lined up at attention… men that all resembled…Max. That's when she woke up gasping in shock.

This had been no wistful dream of hers, this felt like the visions she had received many times before. But instead of the happiness that filled her at the last vision of her, her friends-her family together in the new home, this filled her with fear. Even more so than when she saw them all get killed before graduation… this was something she did not fully understand. She scribbled down the details she could remember quickly, before she could forget anything. As soon as she was done, she went out to tell Isabel. As she passed through her door, she ran right into Isabel.

"Liz, is everything ok?" Isabel asked, arms held out to steady her.

"I…I had another vision. Um… I don't know what it was exactly or even when… or even how it's possible…" She babbled on, trailing off as her mind sped on trying to figure out what she saw.

"Liz! Tell me, what did you see?" Isabel's stern voice commanded ending her incessant babble.

"It was like out of some bad Star Wars movie… I saw an army… of Max. And before that, I saw this government laboratory, at least I assume it was, because a general was there talking with one of the scientists and then I saw Max… after that I saw the army…" She trailed off, starting to feel a little silly saying this, but deeper down where her fear still was rampant she believed it was a vision. Fortunately, Isabel did not discount it so easily.

"An army… of Max clones? I mean, if they could make us, I guess it's possible… but how? Nasedo destroyed everything they took from him the first time and after… he was buried. They couldn't have gotten to his body…" She started to become upset as the memories of graduation were drudged up.

Liz placed a comforting hand on her arm, but her voice and gaze held steady, "Maybe Nasedo lied about that too."

Isabel's eyes widened at that very possible explanation, "But why now?"

Why wait until now to create clones of Max? Liz's mind spun with the possible reasons, for a lot of factors could have played into it- technology, financial backing and authorization; but she couldn't be sure of anything, "I don't know."

~ ~ ~

Valenti Home
4 am MT

As his father poured the cups of coffee for them, Kyle continued to just stare at his hand. He had powers. Even with the warning he still couldn't quite fathom it. Powers. He could finally do all the crazy stuff the others were able to do. But now that he had it, he suddenly understood just why none of the three aliens ever had pure fun with their powers, at least without prodding. It was scary to be able to wield this power. With one wave he stopped time. He. Stopped. Time. He had accomplished the impossible!

As his father took a seat rapid knocking was suddenly heard. Kyle stared blankly toward the door while his dad quickly went to see who it was. Before he could say hello, a whirlwind of blonde strode in, "All right. Spill Valenti. What is this about freezing your dad, and your dream? You said you would not talk about that again!"

Instead of replying, Kyle jerkily waved his hand in Maria's direction. Nothing happened. Why couldn't it work when he wanted to? He sighed and tried again.

"What are you doing?" Maria's ire had reached its limit and she was practically shrieking now.

Jim Valenti, who after closing the door and muttering, "come on in," watched in confused fascination at the scene unfolding in front of him. However, at Maria's unleashing anger and tense stance he decided to defuse the situation. Taking her by the shoulders he gently pushed her to a chair and poured her a cup of coffee. While doing so he turned to Kyle, "I'd actually like to know the same thing. What is going on Kyle?"

They stared at him waiting for a reply, but he suddenly felt at a loss of where to begin. "I…" he began to trace random patterns on his cup, "remember the dreams I mentioned to you guys before?"

In unison they blurted out, "Dreams?"

Maria continued, "You had more than one?"

"Yeah. The week before college started, that day when we went to visit…" He had started looking at her as he spoke but quickly averted his gaze downward at the mention of that day. "I told my dad about that one. I didn't tell him about the one I told you. But now I have to tell you both about tonight's. There is no way either of you can convince me this was just a dream. Not with what happened after."

"Yeah, what happened after?" Maria asked. Jim remained silent, carefully listening.

"I stopped…time."

No one spoke for an entire minute. The ticking from the hallway clock was heard as two people sat in shock, while the other returned to staring at his hand.

"Umm… care to run that by us again?" Maria broke the silence.

"I waved my hand towards my dad and he froze-mid-sentence. When I called you I guess I was waving at him again or something because he broke out of it but had no idea how I managed to get around him and talk to you. After I hung up I saw the time and… Well, my alarm clock and the hallway clock were set at the same time. However, after all that, it's now four minutes behind."

"Maybe the battery is running out."

"No! Look will you just listen to me this time? A life could be at stake here. Actually two, because this could mean I've finally turned too."

Maria's eyes began to mist up. It had taken her so long to accept the fact that Max was gone and now Kyle was telling her they might have been wrong all this time… she just didn't want to go through it all again. In her emotional state her words came out harsher than she intended, "Prove it."

"I don't know how." Kyle blinked a little hurt and taken aback at Maria's reaction. His dad, who had remained quiet this entire time, placed a hand on his arm to get his attention.

"See if you can contact Isabel."

~ ~ ~

Canada
An hour later

Isabel growled out in frustration. "I still can't reach them. I think they might still be awake."

Liz had been pacing the room, after her vision, neither of them could sleep and had been trying to contact the others back home. However, it seemed tonight was the night to stay up. She glanced over at Isabel seeing the strain of the dream walks taking their toll on her. "They are a few hours behind us; they might be out at dinner or something. Why don't you try and sleep, we can always try again tomorrow. It's not like they can do anything about it anyway."

"Liz…."

"It's fine. I don't even know what to think about it… It may be a good idea for us to just sleep on it."

Isabel nodded, too tired to argue.

~ ~ ~

Valenti Home
4:15am MT
(Slight excerpt from Significant Others)

Kyle still wary of this took deep breaths to center himself. When he was calm enough, he closed his eyes focusing on Isabel. Without realizing it he began to whisper her name…*Isabel*.

He heard his voice echo all around him. The edges of wherever he was had a mystical quality to them, soft clouds bordering them. He slowly walked around and then he heard it. Her throaty laugh with the slight lilt to it. He called out to her again and his surroundings suddenly took form. He found himself in an empty theater, a couple sitting near the front. He cautiously stepped down the aisle and stopped short when he saw that the couple was Isabel and Jesse.

"I just love old movies, you know?" He heard her sigh as she snuggled further into the arms of her husband.

"Yeah, where we all get to live happily ever after." He heard Jesse answer her, leaning closer for a lingering kiss.

"Soon." She whispered to him a tear starting to form at the edge of her eye.

Kyle was at a loss of what to do. He had somehow entered Isabel's dream walk of Jesse and neither of them had realized he was there. As things became more intense between the couple he became increasingly uncomfortable and was wondering just how to break out of there. Suddenly, he heard Isabel say his name.

"Kyle?" Jesse echoed, not realizing she had actually seen Kyle and was calling out to him in surprise.

"Umm… Jesse I have to go now, I promise we'll continue tomorrow night. I love you. She quickly pecked him on the cheek and seconds later his form faded away.

"Whoa, how did you do that?" Kyle asked in awe.

"Actually I think the question should be how are you here?" Isabel countered.

"That's the exact reason why I'm here. I got my powers."

~ ~ ~

Outside of the dreamscape, Jim and Maria were watching Kyle intently. At first he had started out whispering to himself, but now he remained silent. He had been like this for at least ten minutes and it worried them greatly. What if he got lost in his mind somewhere?

Then suddenly he opened his eyes, gasping slightly.

"Are you all right?" Jim asked his son as Maria hung back still a little scared about tonight's events.

"Yeah… I… got through. She told me to try again in half an hour, with you guys with me."

"What? Is that possible?"

"Yeah, she told me how… but in the meantime there are still some things we need to discuss." Kyle wearily leaned back in his chair. Unable to shift into a more comfortable position, he grimaced.

"Right." His father softly responded. With a light touch to his arm, his father gestured for them to move to the living room, where Kyle could have a greater chance of resting in the comforts of their couch. They all stood up and settled back onto the cushioned seats in the living room. Maria sat tensely, clasping and unclasping her hands, Kyle stared out blankly, while Jim watched the two in concern.

"I'm a little afraid to tell you what I saw." Kyle meekly spoke. The sick image of the torture kept flashing in his mind and he felt queasy all over again.

"Just take it slow. If it gets too much we'll stop," his father reassured him.

Kyle nodded back, smiling gratefully at him for a moment then dropping back into a serious expression. He cleared his throat. "I was back in the white room, I was facing one of the walls and I heard this clicking, scratching type noise. So I turned around and I saw… Max." He spoke slowly, deliberately as if he was forcing each word out of himself, slowly reliving the 'nightmare' walk. As he said Max's name he heard Maria let out a quiet sob. He glanced over at her, but she was looking down at her lap. His dad told him to continue.

"He was strapped down on a table… naked." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself to the image he was about to relate to his dad and Maria. Especially after hearing her gasp at what he just said. Even his dad turned in astonishment. "They had him hooked up to these machines, one was to measure brain waves and the other..." his voice faltered, this was getting too hard. "And the other had a heart-rate monitor and…" he bit his lip; his leg was jumping up and down like crazy in his anxiety.

"What? What did it have?" Maria finally managed to spit out, though her voice was low and trembling in its tautness, as if she were bracing herself for what she was about to hear.

"Dials. And these wires with electrodes to… that were… attached to his body."

"Did they… electrocute him, son?" his dad asked as gently as he could, tears already forming in his eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah they did. Just before I woke up, they started." He couldn't do this any longer; he hid his face in his hands, his shoulders starting to shake under his emotions. Suddenly he felt warm arms around him and moving his hands away slightly he realized that Maria and his dad had moved over and had enveloped him in a group hug. A sad smile graced his face as he tried to stop his tears, then he whispered, "I think he saw me."

Maria moved away slightly to face him, "What? How…?"

"I heard him say my name, he looked at me in there…" he downplayed it slightly, not wanting to upset her further.

She remained silent, her face contorting between expressions of disbelief, sorrow and anger and possibly hope. Somehow under all those emotions she managed to ask, "Does that mean you're going to try and contact him?"

"I don't know… I mean I never controlled it when it happened, I don't know if I can."

"You can. You were able to reach Isabel. You can reach him." his father encouraged him, instilling confidence that he still could not truly believe in.

He glanced at the clock; they still had ten minutes before he was supposed to contact Isabel. "Should I try now?"

Maria stared at him wide-eyed, her lips slightly parted in shock. His father just held his gaze and nodded.

He let out another steadying breath, "Ok." He adjusted into a more comfortable position, closed his eyes and began to whisper Max's name, trying to ignore the soft cries coming from Maria.

Darkness was all he saw, but he couldn't give up yet. He was calm, he was in control; he could do this. He tried to believe he could and concentrated harder trying to bring all his memories of Max to mind. When he came upon the memory of seeing Max move his healing hand from his own chest all those years ago in the UFO Center he made the connection; or so he thought.

He saw a flash of white, he could feel another presence there with him-it had to be Max. He tried to shout out, but instantly he felt himself being physically pushed away. Next thing he knew he was blinking back on the image of his living room. He had failed.

Maria and his father watched him intently, not daring to speak. He looked at each of them then shook his head focusing on the rug under the table.

"It's ok," Maria said at the same time his father said, "Give it time, you'll get in." He didn't know what to think, should he just give up? Was it already too late? Should he even tell Isabel and Liz that Max might have been alive until tonight? That yet again they were too late to save him? Or was Max just unconscious? Or did he realize he was in his head and consciously pushed him out of it? But then if he did, why would he? Didn't he want to get out of that hellhole?

He must have zoned out for a few minutes because the next thing he knew his dad was telling him to just rest a bit and offering him a drink of water, before he attempted to contact Isabel again.

~ ~ ~

Canada

"This can't be good. I can't even sense him anymore." Isabel whispered in panic.

"I know your range has increased over the years, but perhaps he had to go somewhere farther and that's blocking it for you?" Liz suggested earnestly, trying to calm Isabel.

"I guess… but still, what if something happened to him? What if we were wrong Liz, what if it's still not safe?"

"No. It has to be. I wouldn't have seen that vision if it wasn't true. Look lets just meet with the others and it will all end up falling into place. It has to. Everything will be ok," she tried to assure Isabel as well as herself.

"Ok." Isabel glanced at the clock. "Ten minutes, we should get ready, Kyle will be trying soon."

~ ~ ~

On the Road

Michael zoomed down the road, once again running for his life. Ever since he got that message in his pocket, he had been on alert-that is more so than usual. He hadn't realized until that day just how much of his guard he had let down. Settling down in Seattle and meeting that agent had calmed his fears somewhat, but he had been wrong.

He zipped past several rest stops refusing to allow himself rest. He needed to get as far away from Seattle as fast as possible. The two months it took to leave without garnering extra attention was excessive enough, but a necessary evil. His agent had been devastated that he wanted to leave the state and was not planning on pursuing his art career further. But fortunately she did not push him to confide in her the reason of his sudden departure. She was just glad that he agreed to sell his collection. He finally chose the highest bidder from the group of art connoisseurs that desired the entire collection. Obviously some multi-millionaire, who wanted yet another art inspired party conversation. As long as the paintings stayed together, he would learn to deal. There were moments he wished it could have been possible for him to bring them along, even just one of them. But he had to travel light.

It was almost as if nothing had changed from six months ago, the bag on his back holding his only belongings; however, this time he did bring his Metallica collection-all two CDs. Also, his fear had a new driving force. Over the past two months he constantly muddled over the message, wondering who it was that gave it to him. Long live the King, it said. Who but other aliens would know that Max was King? And why did it say long live the king? Were they implying he was still alive, because that was impossible. Isabel told him that she failed in contacting him. He had felt the severing of the connection, or at least he found out that was why he got temporarily light headed while driving. It couldn't be possible. But a little part of him doubted that. It was the part that didn't want to believe the news article, Isabel or Liz. And that was why he followed the second part of the message. What you seek is on the other side, where the sun begins. It had to mean go East, though he had to shake his head at its corniness. It reminded him way too much of those mystical, hidden messages like in Star Wars. He just hoped that somehow he could find his way to Isabel and Liz. But that would be after he was pretty sure he wasn't being tailed. At that thought he glanced back and pressed harder on the accelerator.

But he was going too fast already. In the dark he did not see the carelessly thrown can on the road. Only after the collision did the motorcycle's beam illuminate the crushed cylinder in front of Michael's sprawled body. It was the last sight he saw before he closed his eyes.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART TWENTY-ONE

Roswell

After Kyle had composed himself, all three of them had once again moved to the kitchen. They sat around, just an arm's distance apart between each person. "Ok, before we do this, I just want to prepare you for it. It's a bit disorienting at first, and well I'm basically trying to create a mental link between us, or I guess just pull you into my mind, so when that happens, just stay with me and don't go wandering around… please," Kyle began, turning to look at Maria as he laid out the 'rules'.

She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "Ditto."

Kyle ignored her comment, relieved that her highly strung emotions were starting to defuse, somewhat. He continued, "Also, Maria, I think Michael might be there…"

"Well, duh, he needs to know too. Why wouldn't he be?" she interrupted defensively.

Kyle just held his hands up innocently, "Just wanted to make sure there were no real surprises, that way we don't lose anyone from the connection. So like I said, I'm going to try and dream walk Isabel and once I get in, I'm going to reach out to you two, so be ready. Just try and keep your minds blank and keep breathing." Again he looked at Maria.

She glared at him, annoyed, but said nothing this time. Instead his father spoke, "So how much are we telling them?"

"That's what I've been trying to decide. I mean… what should I say? I hardly know any more than before!"

His father violently gripped his hand. "Yes you do. Even with the possibility that it may be too late, I will not allow them to have his body if I can help it. Anytime before tonight I would have told you not to give those kids false hope, but now, they deserve to know the whole truth, even if the end result may be the same."

Kyle and Maria stayed silent at this, trying to keep their emotions in check. Maria tentatively reached out to hold his hand. He turned to look over to her and they shared a small smile between them-hers as a sign of support, and his in gratitude. Kyle then glanced at the clock, it was time. He had planned to hold their hands to help him bring them into the dream walk only after he connected with Isabel, but not wanting to let go of their already linked hands, he closed his eyes instead. "Here we go," he breathed, followed by his whispered calling of *Isabel*.

The connection formed quicker this time and soon all three of them found themselves surrounded by the mystical clouds. They remained quiet taking in their surroundings and trying to orient themselves in this new scene, but the scene quickly shifted.

Suddenly, they were at the quarry. "Hey guys, hope this is ok, it just seemed fitting."

They all turned their heads sharply in the direction of the voice and were met with a most welcome sight-Isabel and Liz. Maria immediately shrieked in happiness and ran to her best friend, calling out, "Liz!" The two hugged tightly, while Isabel was embraced by the Valenti men.

"Where's Michael?" Kyle asked.

"I haven't been able to get him, I think he's still awake doing something, he's not letting me in. I'm still trying though." she explained, not wanting to worry the others about what she feared.

"So should we wait?"

"No, we can discuss your news first and help you with that in the meantime. Hopefully he'll be here when we get on to our news."

"Good I hope?" Jim Valenti asked warily.

"A little hard to say," replied Liz as she walked up to them and moved to hug the two men.

"A vision?" Maria asked as she joined them.

"Yeah. But first, how are you holding up?" Liz asked Kyle, remembering how scary it was when she first got her powers.

"Kind of still in the shock phase, but I think I've passed denial by now." he half joked. The others smiled slightly at this, glad that the powers had not diminished his sarcastic disposition.

"Does it still hurt?" Liz asked quietly, trying to not dwell in the negative memories the green electricity had given her.

"Actually it hasn't ever."

"Then how did you find out?"

"Well I first suspected it when I got these… weird dreams," he didn't know why he didn't just come out and say it but he was still afraid to mention Max to them. "But tonight, I knew for sure when I… umm… froze my dad." He ended up mumbling the last part.

Isabel not quite catching his last statement leaned closer, "What was that?"

He looked up straight into her hazel eyes, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. After clearing it, "I froze him. I think I can freeze time."

She stepped back, "Whoa." She shook her head, the powers that Kyle and Liz had achieved were far beyond her own capabilities… or were they? She had to admit they had never tried to experiment much with their powers. They just played around with the ones that manifested themselves and maybe those were just their base strengths; maybe they were all able to do the various powers. She'd have to look into that later on.

"Yeah that was kind of my reaction too. I still can't wrap my mind around it, but I saw it. My dad was just standing there, mouth open. He didn't remember anything that happened around him while he was frozen," Kyle explained.

Liz began to muse out loud, "It's like a pattern."

"What do you mean?" Maria asked.

"Both Kyle and I received unique abilities to control time in some sense, for me it's seeing into the future, for him it's actually stopping it. Also, obviously Kyle got Isabel's dream walking power and I think I got Michael's blasting one."

"So you're saying that whoever gets healed gets one of their powers and something involved with time?" Maria questioned.

"Possibly." Liz bit her lip as she considered the implications of that-all those children…

"Don't worry. After you got your powers, Max started thinking that it might occur in those kids, so he asked me to dream walk them. They were all fine, healthy, normal kids. No green. Either the age factor or the fact he healed them of cancer might have played a factor."

"Ok… so basically if you're healed from a gun shot wound…" Maria trailed off as she took in Kyle's widened expression. "What?"

He had swung his gaze to his father, who after a beat realized what Kyle was thinking. "Me? But I…" Valenti broke off in surprise.

"Why not? Granted you were healed a lot later than both Kyle and me, so you probably won't have to worry about it manifesting until much later, but it seems pretty likely," Liz commented.

Though he had been through a lot along with these kids, this latest shock was something he just wasn't prepared for. He shook his head, scratching it lightly with a look of consternation on his face.

Isabel walked up to him laying a comforting hand on his arm. When he turned to look at her, "Don't worry. If and when it happens we'll help you through it. Liz and Kyle are ok. You will be too."

"I know. Thank you." He held her close, smiling. It sure was good to see his 'kids'.

"So how much have you experimented with your powers, Kyle?" Liz asked.

"I… not too much, this is the most I've done intentionally," he said as he glanced around the dreamscape. "But there's something I need to tell you guys… I don't know how to really put this, but-"

During this Isabel's eyes had glazed over slightly, "He's here," she whispered as Kyle spoke, but it was Maria's scream that interrupted him.

"Oh my God, Michael!" After a moment they were all crowded around him.

Michael was sitting in absolute confusion. He blinked slightly, how did he get in here? This night was getting weirder and weirder for him. First he had found himself on the side of the road out of harm's way and after healing himself he just laid down to rest for a few moments and now he was back in Roswell?

"You had me worried sick!" Isabel admonished, "I've been trying you for hours. Where have you been?"

With that it finally dawned on Michael, he was still asleep-Isabel had just dream walked him, but why had he heard Maria's voice? That's when he felt a hand on his head. He looked up and saw her. She still looked so beautiful and all he could do was stare at her.

"You ok, Spaceboy?" she asked gently.

"Yeah." he breathed out; surprised she wasn't chewing him out for the way he left her. Perhaps all that time apart had mellowed her anger. But once again he was wrong.

"Good!" She slapped him hard on his arm which was still relatively sore due to his somewhat lacking healing talent. "That's for just leaving me like that after all you said. You don't just do that to a person. You let them have their say! You-" She was starting to huff, but she stopped when she noticed Michael wincing in far more pain then she believed her slap would have given him. "What's wrong, what happened?" she asked, immediately concerned.

"I kind of got into an accident. I'm fine now, just a little sore. I wasn't able to heal myself completely, it's been awhile and plus I'm kind of tired," he mumbled out. He must be since he felt he could fall asleep in this dream walk.

"Accident?" Isabel repeated her voice a notch higher. "I knew something bad happened." she murmured to herself. "How?"

"I was driving and I hit a can head on and well at my speed I just went over. I'm fine, really. That's not what we need to worry about." he said pointedly as he took Jim's offered help to get up. He wavered on his feet for a moment, but managed to stay up.

"Would that be the reason why you were driving at such a dangerous speed?" Liz asked quietly behind him. He turned around startled, but nodded.

"Two months ago I got this really odd message in my pocket. I thought it might have been a set up by the FBI at first, but the more I thought about it, the less that seemed likely. It said, "Long live the King", who but an alien would know to say that? The thing is I don't understand why they would write that about Max now… it's just…" he trailed off, his grief and guilt overwhelming him again.

The others remained quiet at this, lost in their thoughts about Max. Kyle was struggling to somehow get the news across to the others about the dreams, while his father watched him, wondering if he should offer to tell them instead.

Maria broke the silence her mind on a completely different tangent, "What if it meant you, Michael? Remember Courtney?" She raised her eyebrow as she said the girl's name, another blonde alien she would never learn to like, despite her help and sacrifice.

"She's dead, Maria."

"Yeah, but she said there were others just like her, who believe you should be king. What if they've regrouped and they want their leader now?" She asked the last part a little hysterically, a few moments in his presence and already she felt like she was going to lose him again.

He immediately wrapped her in his arms, "Hey, I'm not ever going to go for that." he then whispered, just for her to hear, "If there's a chance that I can come back, I will not leave you. Never again."

Tears began to roll down her eyes and she held on to him tighter. She never wanted this dream walk to end.

~ ~ ~

Valenti Home

The house was silent except for the ticking in the hallway. The three occupants remained holding hands, nothing around to disturb them. That is until an isolated thunderstorm tore across the sky. The sky flashed brightly, unnoticed by the three in the kitchen, but the thunder would not be denied. Their eyes flew open in shock and Kyle shouted out, "Wait!"

When he focused back on to his home, his face fell. He never got a chance to tell them. And he felt exhausted. He probably wouldn't be able to do that again for a while. His shoulder slumped further; things were getting more and more bleak.

Next to him Maria wiped slowly at her tears and proceeded to hug herself. She could still feel Michael's strong arms around her, his whispered heartfelt words still ringing in her ears, "Never again." She hoped that would be soon.

Jim watched them again, feeling utterly useless. He couldn't help them with their pain, he had no powers to help the situation and no means but waiting for the dream walks to contact the others. Beyond this room no one knew that Max still lived and he had no idea where to start finding him. He knew he had to do something, but he was at a loss of what and how.

~ ~ ~

Dreamscape

"Where did they go?" Liz asked as she walked in a small circle looking for her friends. Michael beside her stood frozen, his arms now embracing just air.

"Kyle must have tired out or lost the connection," Isabel rationalized. "We didn't even get to tell them about your vision."

"I know," Liz replied miserably.

Michael seemed to break out of his spell at that point. "Wait, what vision?"

"I saw this government laboratory where a general and one of the scientists were smiling at something, then I saw… Max. He was so still, and his chest was bare. Then it switched to an entire army… of him, all standing at attention."

"What? But how?" Michael sputtered in shock.

"We're clones Michael. It's not too far of a stretch that they could do it too, especially if Nasedo lied to us about that too." Her voice hardened as she was reminded yet again of their treacherous 'protector'.

"Lied about…" he halted his question as he realized what Isabel was referring to-destroying the evidence the FBI had on Max. "Shit." He gritted out.

"We have to tell the others." He spoke after several moments of silence.

"We were planning to, but they left before we got around to it" Isabel replied irritated.

Always the mediator, Liz calmly spoke, "It's ok, like I said, there's not much we can do about it now. Let's just go get some rest and next time we try this we'll ensure they know."

Isabel and Michael nodded at this as she looked at each of them. She looked at Michael last, "So where are you headed now?"

"East. I'm not sure where, yet." He shrugged, slightly, so as not to strain his sore arms.

"Well if you can, swing up north. It'd be good to see you in person," she told him affectionately as she gave him a light hug, wary of his hidden injuries.

"I'll do my best." he smiled.

"You take care ok? Slow down, Liz still believes it's safe for us. I want to believe that too," Isabel said tearfully as she hugged him tightly, her palms pressed against his back.

"I will." With that Isabel and Liz were left alone once more in the dreamscape.

~ ~ ~

Highway

*I will.* He was about to say something more, but he soon awoke to the sound of the blaring horn of a loud carrier truck. He rolled his eyes and attempted to get up. He was still sore, but better than before. He stretched gingerly and moved to survey his bike's damage. Surprisingly it was ok except for a few dings, which he quickly remedied.

Once he was done, he picked up his coat that he had used to rest against, dusted it and put it on. As he put it on he noticed a slip of paper fall out. He picked it up and noticed the strange writing from the last message. All it said was, "Safety comes in numbers."

What the hell? He was not in the mood for these messages and looking around the once again deserted highway, he didn't understand how it got in his coat. Who was following him and were they friend or foe? All he knew is that he was going to keep his promise to Liz sooner than he thought. He had his destination now.

~ ~ ~

30 Minutes Earlier
That same road

"Shit!" The young man hit the top of his steering wheel hard as he parked in front of his quarry. He had been tailing the artist for hours now, keeping enough distance so that he would not become suspicious. However, the crash certainly put a damper on that plan.

He quickly got out of the car and went to check on the artist. He was still breathing, but one of his arms was bent awkwardly. He knew he should call for help, but before he automatically dialed 911 he remembered the general's words, *If anything happens, call me first.* He pulled out the card again and dialed.

"What happened," the stern voice answered.

"There was an accident. He… he's not moving. Should I call the ambulance?"

"Is he still breathing?"

"Yes."

"He'll be fine. Just get him off the road."

"What? You just want me to leave him out here?"

"He'll be fine. Just do it." With that the general hung up leaving no room for the ex-agent to argue with him.

He didn't understand it, but he did as he was told. Apparently joining this general was almost like being with the Unit again, no questioning orders, but at least everything he'd done so far was not harmful.

He gingerly hooked his arms underneath the artist's ones, his tall frame proving quite a challenge to move. Even though the two men were of relatively equal height, the artist had a broader build. After laying him well off the side of the road, he went to move the motorcycle too. The guy was lucky, the machine was scraped up and had a few dents but overall still looked workable. He placed it by the artist and checked once more on his breathing. It seemed regular enough. Just as he was debating if he should really leave even though he was told to not let the artist see him, his phone rang.

"Hello?" He whispered, even though he knew the artist could not hear him.

"One more thing. It's time to leave another message."

The ex-agent nodded as he searched his pocket for some paper and a pen. Fortunately he found a scrap. He quickly scrawled out the words after hanging up and then got into his car and drove off to the next closest rest-stop to wait.

My Recent Posts · (10/30/09

PART TWENTY-TWO

January 12, 2003
6am

Physical Scheduled. If found coherent, interrogation will continue. Target- subject's emotions.

Notes: Subject has healed slower than previously. Even with the aid of its own healing power scarring has taken three weeks to fade slightly. Heartbeat is decreasingly erratic each day. Skin still clammy, tremors still evident. Mental faculties seem to be intact. Response time still a bit slow.

The technician copied the doctor's notes into the computer in the observation room, while glancing at his boss whose attention was keenly focused on the action within the subject's cell.

Agent Felding ignored the technician. He impatiently watched as the doctor went through a now tiring daily ritual. The recovery was taking too long. Almost one month. He wanted his answers now and he didn't care if it still was too weak or took its time to speak. As long as it was semi-coherent he would manage.

Max sat dully on the edge of the table they had brought in. For the moment he was left unrestrained, but he knew there were agents hovering in the room, watching for any sudden movements from him against the doctor. As soon as the doctor stepped in, he had let himself go limp, allowing the doctor access to him with ease. He had stopped caring what they did to him and besides this doctor only came in to check his vitals and his mental faculties. After numerous visits, he had come to expect the questions the doctor would ask him causing him to only half-listen. The doctor always started the same way.

"Good morning Max. Do you remember me?" He would say this gently and earnestly, as if trying to gain his trust. Max only thought; why did the man even bother to? But still he responded.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Good, good," the doctor would murmur to himself. He stepped closer to Max, still with slight apprehension though Max never moved from the spot the agents would place him after releasing him from his bonds. The only movements from Max were the slight tremors, now barely noticeable, that still wracked his thin, weak body.

The doctor would shine a penlight into his eyes then always test his sight by moving his finger back and forth in front of Max to see if his eyes followed. He would then proceed to take his pulse and listen to his heartbeat as he began the inane questions.

"What's your full name?"

"Max Evans."

"What is the last date you remember?"

"June 2, 2002. Graduation day." After answering the questions so many times Max had started to condense his responses to what he knew the doctor was looking for.

"What's 2 times 5?"

"Ten."

"Square that."

"One hundred."

"Divide by 20."

"Five."

"Subtract three."

"Two." The math was always so basic, even when he varied the numbers to actually 'harder' ones.

"What's the total sum of angles for a triangle?"

"180."

"What color is this?" The doctor would hold up some random object, usually a ball or a card.

Max would pause each time, surprised to see something other than white, black or gray. "Red."

"Good. Good, your response time is improving." The doctor praised him.

He then went on to check his reflexes and then before he left he asked the same two questions.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Yes." The first time it had stunned Max into silence, bringing tears to his eyes as he remembered all the horrible things he had done to his friends and family before coming in here. Being here was his punishment. Now he answered automatically with a masked face hiding any emotion he may have felt.

"Do you understand your rights in being here?"

"I have none." The first time he had been momentarily confused, but once he understood what was being asked of him, his voice broke at the question. Now it remained flat and dead.

The doctor would nod, taking down his last notes. Then patting Max on the knee he would signal to the agents in the back of the room. They would usually lead Max to the corner of the room and restrain him again. He never fought and just sat down where they left him, curling up again. This time though they pushed him into a chair, the restraints already attached. Once he was secure the doctor took a cursory glance and then left the room followed by the agents pushing the table.

Agent Felding turned to the door as the doctor entered. The doctor immediately looked at him and nodded. Agent Felding smiled, it was finally ready.

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Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) by behrinthecity ~ Incomplete

Scars of White (AA, CC, MATURE) by behrinthecity ~ Incomplete

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