By Mnemosyne

Disclaimer: Roswell, the characters, and situations are owned by the WB. No infringement intended.
Summary: Sequel to "Endgame." Michael and the others are gone, and Maria is crushed. Unexpected news shakes things up even more.
Category: Michael/Maria
Rating: R
Authors Note: Lots of people seemed to like "Endgame," (unless they were just being nice ;), so I thought it would be neat to write a sequel. This idea was kicking around in my head even as I was writing "Endgame" itself. I suggest you read that before reading this, or you might be a tad lost. All considerations I asked you to keep in mind for that fic still apply here. Also, any medical stuff I throw into this fic has no basis in medical reality-- or at best, a slim relation. In general, I'm going on common sense and fantasy. I don't know from medicine! Hopefully people won't throw this back in my face! I know Spazzie wanted me to set this farther in the future, but I just HAD to write this story! Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

It had been six months since Michael Guerin swept in and out of Maria Deluca's life, giving her one perfect night, and then shattering her life completely.

She hadn't been the same since he'd left her that foggy November morning. She put on the facade, easily fooling Liz and Alex, still caught up in their own pain. It was simple to duck her mom-- she'd stayed at school most of the time, and kept as far away from the house as possible when she had to go home. They all saw Maria as she was supposed to be.

No one saw the Maria that WAS.

At night, she would lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling and imagining that Michael was there again-- his hands exploring her, making her scream with pleasure. It was so real, she could SEE him, hovering over her, eyebrows pursed with concentration, lips curled into that adorable pout she'd always found so sexy. But she would reach out to touch him, and he would melt away, insubstantial as morning mist, and she'd be alone again. Then the tears would come, and the night would be wasted as she cried silently for hours on end.

The dark circles were easily hidden with concealer.

Hiding. That was her life now. One long game of hide-and-seek. "Find me if you can," she thought absently.

But it was May now. College had let out, and she was stuck at home. Well, that wasn't true. She could travel around in her little red car-- see the sights, walk the walks. But it just didn't hold the interest for her anymore. Besides, there was her job at the Crashdown to think about-- one of the few things in her life that had remained constant from her days as an average teenager.

Not today, though. She couldn't take it today. She'd called in sick, and Mr. Parker had obliged her with the day off. She lay curled up on her bed, staring out the window with dull eyes, watching the world go by outside-- everyone looking so content, so happy with their lives. Not even suspecting that there was a girl watching them, dying from heartbreak.

Something in the back of her mind told her she should eat. She hadn't eaten in a while. When was the last time? Yesterday? A salad.

The thought of food made Maria queasy. No, she wasn't hungry right now. She would just lie here a little longer, and watch all the happy people walk by. Going home to their picture perfect rose gardens and accountant husbands, and all their little children with ten fingers and ten toes who had just learned to say "da-da."

God she envied them.

Closing her eyes, Maria shut out the images and closed in the tears. She was always crying! It made her thirsty and headachey. And her stomach was twisting again. She really should eat something, she figured.

But not right now. She was so tired right now. It didn't take long for her breathing to even out, and soon she had drifted away, visions of Michael Guerin pulsing behind her eyelids.

******

"Maria? Sweetie?" Amy Deluca knocked on her daughter's bedroom door as she stuck her head into the darkened room. "I've made some dinner, honey. You hungry?"

There was no response from Maria. Her sides were rising and falling with her steady breathing. Leaning her head against the doorframe, Mrs. Deluca watched her daughter sleep, and smiled. It seemed a shame to wake her up. But the girl needed some food in her-- she was far too thin. "Bad college food," Maria had explained. Well, she could fix that.

Moving into the room, Mrs. Deluca delicately sat behind her daughter and rested a hand on one shoulder. Shaking Maria lightly, she whispered, "Maria. Wake up, sweetheart. I made lasagna. Your favorite."

No response. "She must be very tired," Mrs. Deluca thought.

She shook a little harder, and spoke up. "Come on, sleepyhead. Time to get up!"

Still nothing.

Maria's mother was suddenly worried. Switching on her daughter's bedside lamp, she turned the girl so she was on her back. She gasped.

Maria's face and lips were pale, her breathing steady but shallow. Mrs. Deluca was shocked to feel how light her daughter was-- a featherweight. But that was all pushed out of her mind by one concrete thought.

Her daughther was dying.

"MARIA!" she screamed, shaking the unconcious girl once more. When she didn't wake up, her mother dove for the phone and punched in 911 with hands that shook so hard she could barely hold the receiver.

******

"MRS. DELUCA!" Liz called across the waiting room of Roswell General Hospital.

Maria's mother looked up from where she sat, anxiously staring at the floor. When she spotted the dark- haired young woman coming towards her, Alex in tow, her eyes brightened a little. Not enough to make an appreciable difference, but enough to show their presence was a comfort.

"Liz," she said shakily as the girl gave her a hug. "I'm so glad you came."

"We wouldn't stay away, Mrs. Deluca," Liz assured her as Alex gave the traumatized older woman a hug, too.

"What's wrong with Maria?" he asked anxiously as he pulled back, putting everyone's fears into words.

Maria's mother glowered. "No one in this damn hospital will tell me anything!" she growled. "My daughter, my baby, could be dying, and no one will tell me anything!"

Liz put a comforting arm around the older woman. "It's all right, Mrs. Deluca," she reassured. "I'm sure Maria is going to be just fine."

"Mrs. Deluca?" All eyes turned to the door as a tall, stately looking African-American woman in an immaculate white doctor's coat strode in, clipboard in hand.

Maria's mother stepped forward. "My daughter?" she asked anxiously. "How is she?"

The doctor-- her nametag distinguished her as Dr. Peters-- took the other woman's arm. "We should sit down for this, ma'am," she said softly.

Mrs. Deluca's eyes grew frantic as the doctor led her to a chair. "She's going to be all right, isn't she?" she pleaded frantically. "Please tell me she'll be all right!?" The worried looks on Liz and Alex's faces mirrored her fears.

Dr. Peters sighed. "We've managed to stabilize her condition. She's been moved into her own room for the time being, and we're keeping a close eye on her."

"What's wrong with her?" Liz asked. Dr. Peters turned an appraising eye on the young woman.

"May I ask who you are?" she inquired, taking in both Liz and Alex.

"These are my daughter's two closest friends," Mrs. Deluca explained shakily. "I asked them to come."

The doctor nodded in understanding. "Maria is suffering from malnutrition," she explained. "Just this side of starvation."

"Malnutrition?" Liz's voice mirrored the shock on Mrs. Deluca's face. "But, how?"

"If she's been away from home at college, it would be fairly easy to starve herself," the doctor explained. "Especially if she doesn't have a roommate-- no one to check up on whether she's been eating or not. Does your daughter have a history of eating disorders?"

"N-no," Maria's mother stammered. "No, she's always had a healthy appetite."

"Emotional problems?"

"She was depressed recently," Liz offered when Mrs. Deluca looked pleadingly at her. "She had a...a breakup with her boyfriend. But that was months ago."

Dr. Peters nodded. "That could explain it. This lack of nutrition seems to have been a slow process-- I doubt she stopped eating completely. She simply hasn't been eating enough. Frankly, I'm surprised the child is as healthy as it is."

All eyes turned on her sharply. "Child?" Mrs. Deluca exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

Dr. Peters' eyes widened, and she laid a hand on Mrs Deluca's arm. "Of course, you couldn't have known." She patted the other woman's arm comfortingly. "Mrs. Deluca, your daughter is six months pregnant."

******

Mrs. Deluca sputtered for breath, while Liz and Alex simply stood there, mouths gaping. "Excuse me?" Maria's mother exclaimed. "Did you say PREGNANT?"

"That's correct."

"But...but...she doesn't SHOW!"

"In cases of severe malnutrition such as this, it is often possible that the mother will show little to no sign of being pregnant. Of course, the health of the child is often adversely affected, too." She pulled a green and black sonogram from the clipboard she held, and handed it to Mrs. Deluca. "But if anything, the baby seems to be strong and healthy as a horse. Either this is a miracle, or the parents have physical constitutions of mythical proportions." A knowing look passed quickly between Liz and Alex-- if only she knew.

Maria's mother was staring at the sonogram, and the image it provided of the tiny form curled up in her daughters abdomen. "My...grandchild," she murmured.

Despite the otherwise tense situation, Dr. Peters managed a smile. "Yes, Mrs. Deluca. Your grandchild. The positioning is such that we can't tell the gender, but he or she is alive and kicking." Her face grew grim. "For now."

All eyes snapped to her. "What do you mean, for now?" Alex demanded.

Dr. Peters took a deep breath. "I won't lie to you," she said firmly. "Maria is in a delicate state. All the nutrients we are pumping into her are going to go straight to the baby. I don't dare hit her with more than we're giving her now-- it could shock her system too much. We've stabilized her condition, but she isn't completely out of the woods." Her eyes swept the three worried faces surrounding her. "Maria is incredibly weak right now. What she needs is strength. But strength takes time to build up, and I don't know if Maria has that kind of time." She sighed. "We could still lose her. And if we lose her..." She paused. "If we lose her, we lose her baby as well. Strong or not, the child is just too young to survive outside its mother."

The news hit the three listeners like an iron fist. Liz was finding it very hard to breathe. Alex's mouth went dry as desert sand. And Mrs. Deluca looked as though she had preceded her daughter into death.

"I...I have to be with her," she said. Dr. Peters nodded, understanding.

"Of course, Mrs. Deluca," she said softly, standing and helping the other woman up. "I'll take you to her right now."

She began to lead Maria's mother out of the waiting room, but stopped when Liz and Alex started to follow. "I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely. "Only family are allowed in the patient's room at this time."

Liz fought for something to say, but was saved the need for speech when Maria's mother broke in. "They ARE family," she stated firmly, if slightly dazed.

Dr. Peters gave her a quick look, but nodded grudgingly. "All right," she said. "Follow me."

******

The room was dimly lit and a sickly shade of beige, with ugly mauve chairs in all four corners. A single window, venetian blinds pulled shut against the darkness outside, was set into the right hand wall. Speckled tile covered the floor. All in all, it looked like a place that totally failed to be homey.

In the center, illuminated in a wedge of pale lamplight, lay Maria.

Her eyes were closed, a breathing tube attached to her nose. More long tubes snaked down from an IV bag hanging beside the bed, next to the heart monitor and brainwave indicator. The white sheet and sickly beige blanket were pulled up to her elbows and folded over in clinical fashion. Beneath the covers, Maria wore a typical greenish white hospital gown. Liz swallowed hard. Her friend looked so...alien.

"My baby," Mrs. Deluca murmured, crossing to her daughter and cradling the young woman in her arms. "Oh my little sweetie," she cooed. "Mommy's here, honey. Mommy's here."

The three other people in the room watched the exchange with sympathy. Liz felt her eyes tear over as Mrs. Deluca pulled a chair to her daughter's bedside and sat, eyes never leaving Maria's face.

"Does anyone know the whereabouts of the baby's father?" Dr. Peters asked softly. "He might want to be told."

Liz swallowed, biting back tears. "No," she choked out. "No, he left. Months ago."

The doctor nodded. "I have to make my rounds now," she told Liz and Alex quietly. "If you need anything, press the call button. A nurse will answer. I'll be back in a few hours to check on Maria's status." She gave them an encouraging smile, and sedately slipped out the door.

******

The next hour was an agony of slowness. No one spoke. Liz took a seat in the chair farthest from the window, while Alex leaned against the wall by the door. Mrs. Deluca continued to tenderly stroke her daughter's hair, now and then squeezing her hand. Whether it was to comfort her daughter, or to assure herself that Maria truly was still alive, Liz couldn't tell.

An emotion other than worry and grief began to build in Liz Parker's chest then. An emotion that she couldn't quite get a handle on. Frustration? Perhaps. But it was stronger than that. Sharper. Hotter. Fear? No. It didn't tremble in her stomach like fear. Fear was feeding this emotion.

Then it hit her.

Anger

Liz Parker had never been more furious in her life. Furious at the doctors for not being able to fix what was wrong with her friend. Furious with the University for not KNOWING that Maria was slowly killing herself through starvation. Furious with herself for not seeing the signs-- not noticing Maria's uncharacteristic silences and frequent absences from social activities.

But most of all, she was furious with Michael Guerin. She raged at him in her mind, for turning her friend into the hollow shell laying in that hospital bed, with nothing to fill her but an empty wish that he would return someday, and a growing child that might never open its eyes to daylight.

She seethed silently in the corner, eyes burning. They needed help. They needed someone who could show these doctors that Maria WASN'T a lost cause. Someone who could wake her up and make her healthy again. Someone to give her the "strength" she needed.

They needed Max Evans.

"Well and good, Liz," she scoffed silently. "But in case you hadn't noticed, he's not HERE anymore. None of them are. And you aren't going to find them anytime soon." It was nonsense to even think it.

Or was it?

No. She wouldn't let herself believe that three...people, beings, whatever, could simply disappear without a trace. It just wasn't possible. Someone out there had to have a CLUE where they were. It was just a matter of narrowing down the possibilities.

Once again, for the millionth time in the months since the trio had left, Liz found herself wondering about the phantom informer who had warned them out of town. Who was it? Max had refused to tell them. For the safety of all involved, according to him. "Safety be damned," Liz fumed. "I need to know who it was."

Perhaps it was Max's boss from the UFO Museum. If ANYONE were to know they were aliens, he would have been her first pick. Admittedly, the guy was a little fruity, but she was pretty sure he'd want to keep Max and the others out of the government's hands.

No, it just didn't fit. If he'd found out Max was an alien, he would have started showing him off as one of his central exhibits, not tell him to get out of town, soon, and don't let the door hit you in the ass, thank you very much. So he was out.

Perhaps some unknown alien buff. God knew plenty of them came swinging through town often enough. All it would have taken was one.

But no. There again was the attachment issue. If some outsider had discovered the trio's secret, he or she would have had the story spread on the covers of every trash tabloid around the country, if not the world. But there had been nothing-- just the typical Baby of Bigfoot and I Saw Elvis at McDonald's stories. Another brick wall.

She needed someone who KNEW them. Really knew them. Someone with a vested interest in their welfare. Someone-

And she knew.

Liz's eyes went wide as saucers-- the flying kind-- when the epiphany struck. How could she have been so damn BLIND? And if anyone knew where the three aliens were, their "friend" would be the one to ask.

With a little cry, Liz catapulted herself out of her chair and towards the door.

Alex and Mrs. Deluca, shaken from their reveries by the first real sound in quite some time, looked up in surprise. "Liz?" Alex asked as she swung the door open and began to breeze out into the hall.

She turned on him only briefly. "I have to go, Alex."

"Go? Where?"

She gave him a triumphant grin. "To get Maria some strength."

******

Go to Part 3-4