Rating: Suitable for ages 16 and over

Pairing: M/L

Spoiler/Notes: Pilot

MUSE #8 – Character death. Sigh.

*******

“You can’t be serious!”

Max Evans stopped mid-movement as he pulled his biology textbook out of his bookbag.

“It’s Friday night, don’t tell me you’re doing homework?” Michael’s voice was incredulous.

“We have tons to do,” Max defended himself. “If I start now, I’ll have time to do something fun this weekend.”

Michael shook his head as he sat on his best friend’s bed. “Homework on a Friday night. And it’s only mid-September,” he muttered. “And besides, since when do you do anything ‘fun’?”

Max rolled his eyes and opened his textbook.

“So that’s it? You’re really going to study?”

Max nodded. “Yes, I am. You’re welcome to stay.”

Michael snorted. “Right.”

“Did you have something else in mind?” Max finally asked when Michael didn’t move.

“I thought maybe we could shoot some hoops.”

“It’s almost 8 PM.” Max looked out the window. “It’ll be dark soon.”

“So?”

“So the basketball court doesn’t have lights. We could go tomorrow afternoon?”

Michael thought about it for a moment and finally grunted assent.

“Whatever. Tomorrow.”

“We could meet for lunch,” Max said. “My treat.”

Michael considered the offer. “At the Crashdown?” he asked. Max flushed slightly. Michael scowled in annoyance; one more meal where Max would spend more time ogling the waitress than actually taking part in the conversation. Not that Michael himself was such a great conversationalist.

Michael didn’t approve of what he privately thought of as Max’s obsession, but seeing his friend squirm was too much fun. He smirked. “You gonna talk to her this time?”

“I talk to her,” Max answered defensively. There was no point in trying to pretend he didn’t know who Michael was talking about. Max was good at keeping secrets; his life depended on it. But it seemed that his infatuation with Liz Parker was not something he could hide from his best friend. Besides, Max reflected, it’s not like Michael didn’t already know all of his deepest darkest secrets.

“Yeah, in school,” Michael argued.

“Yes. In school. You’re not exactly the social butterfly either,” Max’s tone was harder than he had intended but if Michael took offence, he didn’t show it.

“Whatever,” the young man said, getting up from the bed and opening the window. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow at noon.”

“See you,” Max replied before turning back to his biology book. Sophomore year was not going to be a piece of cake, no matter what Michael thought, and Max wanted to excel. Especially in biology. He would never admit it to anyone, but obviously Liz Parker had a whole lot to do with that.

A couple of hours later, Max closed his biology textbook with a satisfied sigh. He had finally completed the paper that was due first thing Monday morning. The class had spent the last week talking about genus and phylum. The more he read about that, the more he wondered exactly where he would fit in. Maybe they would create a new category just for him, Michael and Isabel if they ever caught them. Pushing the unnerving thought to the back of his mind, he put his school supplies back in his bag and rubbed his eyes.

He quickly removed his clothes, leaving them in a little pile at the bottom of the bed, and put on a fresh T-shirt. He pulled the covers back and slipped between the sheets. He lay on his back for a while, hands linked together under his head, just staring at the ceiling.

He knew he shouldn’t but when his thoughts immediately drifted to Liz Parker, he let them. Realistically, he knew he was looking at a life of loneliness. His non-human status meant that he could never, ever let anyone in. Not that anyone would want him once they found out about his origins. Still it was fun to dream. Sometimes, it was the only thing that kept him going. He knew that he would never feel Liz’s lips on his but he was willing to live with the incessant longing. Because a life, not only without Liz, but without even the fantasy of Liz, was definitely not worth living.

Max turned on his side and reached under the bed. He pulled out his freshman yearbook. When he lifted the cover the book automatically opened to the page he had looked at so many times. If you could wear out a page just by looking at it, this one would have been blank. Max had memorized every line, every pixel of Liz’s picture. The way her eyes shone, the way the light caught her hair, the way her smile sparkled. A slow smile formed on Max’s lips as he fantasised about being on the receiving end of that smile, running his fingers through that hair, losing himself in those dark eyes. He touched the picture gently with one finger. For the millionth time, he wished he had Isabel’s ability to walk into people’s dreams. He could share a life with Liz in her dreams. She would be safe that way, and he wouldn’t be exposed. If only.

Max closed the book and put it back under his bed. He turned off the light and closed his eyes. If he couldn’t be in Liz’s dreams, he hoped that at least she would be in his.

********

Someone has to study why the object of your affection seems to move in slow motion every time you are near her, Max thought idly as he watched Liz make her way across the Crashdown dining room. Here was one experiment he would gladly take part in.

“Here you go,” Liz said, putting down a glass of cherry coke in front of Max. Max had no recollection of ordering it. How had she known what he wanted? Had she been studying him as he had been her?

She put a small bottle next to the glass. “And of course, we can’t forget the Tabasco.”

Max looked at her, surprise making his eyes widen. She *had* been studying him. Glancing across the table to gauge his friend’s reaction, he realized that Michael wasn’t there. Max tried to remember this morning, or how he had gotten to the restaurant, but to no avail. He frowned and picked up the glass of cherry cola.

“So, you’re still picking me up at 7:30?” Liz asked.

Max choked on his drink and started to cough. He had a date with Liz? Suddenly Michael’s absence and his lack of remembrance of the morning’s events made sense. Seems like his wish had come true. Max Evans was dreaming of Liz Parker.

“Max, are you alright?” Liz asked, coming closer and rubbing his back gently.

Keep doing that and I’ll be more than alright, he thought, desperately trying to engrave upon his mind the feel of her hands on him so he would remember it when he woke up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It just went down the wrong way,” he mumbled, marvelling at how amazingly beautiful she looked when the concern in her eyes was replaced by something else. Something Max had never seen directed at him before. Something he would bet was love.

“Well, you gotta be careful, you can’t die on our first anniversary,” she said.

First anniversary? Please don’t ever let me wake up. “No, we can’t have that,” he said, wishing this dream came with memories of what his life had been like for a whole year of dating Liz Parker.

Almost immediately, an image of Liz sitting on his lap in the back of his Jeep her hands in his hair and her tongue in his mouth flashed before his eyes. Thank God for the human alien brain.

Feeling especially bold now that he had established this was a dream, Max put his arm around Liz’s waist and pulled her closer to him. He was delighted when not only did she not move away, but leaned into him and whispered in his ear.

“Besides, I want to know what you have planned for me. You’ve been hinting at it for weeks and I don’t think I can take much more of this secret.”

She pulled back slightly and he saw that the expression in her eyes had changed. The love was still there, but it was tinged with something else. Something definitely less innocent that caused Max’s stomach to do a somersault.

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” he said coyly. Please don’t let me wake up before that date, I’m begging you.

She returned his smile and reluctantly stepped away from him. “I’ll be back with your food in a minute,” she said as the bell above the door tinkled, signalling the arrival of more customers.

“I’ll be here,” Max grinned.

He spent the next half hour memorizing every move Liz made and trying to come up with something they could do on their date. He had imagined a thousand different scenarios for his and Liz’s first date, but he had never let himself dream that they would ever have a first anniversary.

Finally he left the Crashdown and stepped onto sunny Main Street. He enjoyed the warmth on his face for a moment before focusing on his dream state. While he couldn’t dreamwalk like Isabel, he found he had some powers when it came to controlling his dreams. “Fast forward to the actual date,” he ordered himself. It would be a total shame to wake up before he had a chance to live the fun part of this dream.

Nothing happened. Max frowned. He didn’t want to spend the whole dream preparing for a date he would miss because his alarm went off. But it seemed he didn’t have a choice for now so he pulled the keys of the Jeep out of his pocket and quickly made his way home.

When he reached his bedroom, he realized that he needn’t have worried about where to take Liz tonight. There were flowers and boxes on his bed, and the confirmation for his 8 o’clock reservations at ‘Chez Pierre’. He wondered briefly how he could even afford it on the allowance his parents were giving him when it occurred to him that maybe he had a job. He chuckled. He liked this dream. He liked it a lot.

Looking through the stuff on his bed, he spotted a picnic basket. He frowned, wondering what use they’d have for it when they were going to the most elegant restaurant in town. He opened it to find a box of French chocolate pastries inside. It was easy to figure out that he intended to drive to the desert where he and Liz would eat dessert and spend some time stargazing. The basket also contained a blanket and small square items. Max blushed furiously when he realized what they were. Remembering the less than ingenuous look in Liz’s eyes earlier, he figured maybe it wasn’t so arrogant of him to think that he might get lucky tonight. But wasn’t four a little too optimistic?

In any case, he wanted to be around to find out. He once again tried to fast forward his dream with no success.

Maybe this isn’t a dream. The thought came to him unbidden and Max quickly pushed it aside. He couldn’t start thinking like that. It was one thing to have a fantasy life where Liz was his, but he had to always remember that a dream was all it was.

He still had hours to go before the time he was supposed to pick Liz up. What was he supposed to do until then?

He sat on the bed for a moment, mentally going over everything that had happened so far so he would remember it when he woke up. He wished he could write it down and somehow bring the piece of paper back with him once he woke up. On the other hand, he didn’t see how he could possibly forget how Liz’s warm breath had felt against his skin as she had whispered in his ear.

He got up and moved to his closet, trying to figure out what one was supposed to wear on a first anniversary. He smiled as he appreciated how his subconscious had thought of everything to make this dream pleasant. Brand new pants and a dark blue dressed shirt were hanging on the door. He picked the clothes up and tried them on.

A very clear memory of being dragged through the mall by Isabel came to him as he recalled a shopping expedition from the week before. He shook his head. This dream certainly didn’t feel very dream-like. Not that he minded, as long as it didn’t turn into a nightmare.

He looked through the closet for the shoes he remembered buying the same day. He found them easily. As he retrieved the box from the shelf his sleeve caught on a nail. The fabric ripped.

“Damn!” Max exclaimed, dropping the shoe box and inspecting the damage. A tear a few inches long ran down his arm. Shaking his head, Max took off the shirt and put his hand over the torn material, concentrating on fixing it.

Nothing happened.

Max closed his eyes and tried to relax. He concentrated once more on the molecules forming the sleeve of his shirt, willing them together to repair the slit. Still nothing.

He sighed impatiently. Putting his T-shirt back on, he took the shirt and walked to his sister’s bedroom. He knocked twice.

“Come in,” he heard from inside.

“Hey Iz, I ripped my shirt and I can’t seem to fix it. Could you give it a try?” he said as he walked in.

Isabel raised her head from the magazine she was reading.

“Let me see,” she took the shirt from him. “What did you do?” she said, a hint of disapproval in her voice. It made Max feel like a little boy being scolded by his mother because he had dirtied his Sunday clothes before the visit to Grandma’s.

“It caught on a nail when I got my shoes out of the closet. I can’t seem to get it fixed.”

Isabel looked at him. “Well, that would have been a first,” she said, moving towards her desk. She opened the first drawer and picked up a needle and thread.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, perplexed.

Isabel stopped and turned to look at him. “Fixing your shirt,” she said, her voice even despite the small crease that had appeared on her forehead.

“Why don’t you just use your powers?” Max asked.

Isabel closed her eyes and sighed deeply. “Max,” she said simply and shook her head. She sat on her bed and started threading the needle.

Max sat next to her. “Isabel?” he said.

Isabel ignored him and began mending the torn fabric.

“I didn’t even know you could sew,” Max said slowly.

Isabel exhaled sharply and put the needle down. “Max. We’re not going over this again. It was fun when we were kids, but you have to stop. We’re too old to pretend we are aliens!”

Max blinked and regarded Isabel.

“You’ve been reading that book again, haven’t you? “With Us” or whatever.”

“Among Us,” Max answered automatically, then wondered where the hell that had came from. He had never even heard of such a book.

“Whatever,” Isabel repeated. “It’s not because we were adopted or because you and Michael completely lack social skills that we are aliens. We’ve been over this a thousand times.”

They had, Max suddenly remembered. He had a memory of himself as a little kid in the orphanage, looking up at the stars and thinking that it was a place where maybe he could feel like he belonged. He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anyway, this is nothing but a dream.”

Isabel turned towards him and pricked him with the needle.

“Ow!” Max exclaimed. “Why did you do that for?”

“To wake you up,” Isabel said. “And oh look! You didn’t. So this must be reality.” Still shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the shirt.

Max got up and started pacing. “Stop that!” Isabel commanded. “You’re distracting me.”

Max stopped and looked out the window. Could this be his reality? Could his whole alien existence truly be some kind of elaborate nightmare?

Of course not. This *had* to be a dream. Just the fact that Liz Parker was in love with him here proved that this couldn’t possibly be real.

But then again, which was more plausible? A girl in love with him or green blood cells?

He wanted this to be real so desperately. But it wasn’t healthy to take his dreams for reality. He would get careless. Carelessness would result in exposure. Exposure would result in death.

He grabbed a fistful of Isabel’s curtains and concentrated on changing the colour. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he worked hard on darkening the bright pattern with no result.

Breathing hard he let go of it and turned to his sister.

“This is real,” he whispered in a shaky voice.

Exasperation turned to concern as Isabel rose from the bed and put her hand on Max’s forehead. Her brother had always had a very vivid imagination and he, Michael and herself had often indulged in fantasies of leaving this planet on a spaceship when they were growing up, but never had they actually believed it. Not like Max seemed to now.

“You don’t have a fever. Did you sleep okay?” she asked gently.

Max nodded. “Of course I don’t have a fever. We don’t get sick.”

Isabel smiled but soon realized that he was serious. She frowned. “Should I show you the hospital records?”

“Why don’t you?” Max challenged.

Isabel’s eyes narrowed but she decided to humour him. She left him standing in the middle of her bedroom and came back with a folder their mother kept of every hospital visit, every childhood illness, every broken bone they had had since they had been adopted. Max looked through it slowly and realized he didn’t need to. Everything was coming back to him.

“When we had the chicken-pox in the fourth grade, Michael didn’t catch it,” he started softly. “The doctors said he would if he hung out with us, but he never did. That’s when we decided that aliens didn’t get sick.”

“Right,” Isabel nodded. “And we wanted to go back to school right away because we had decided we weren’t really sick either.”

Max sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. “What is happening to me?” he asked. “I was so sure this was a dream.”

Isabel sat down next to him and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “It happened when we moved in with Mom and Dad, remember? You couldn’t believe someone would want us and you kept repeating that it was a beautiful dream you would someday wake up from. But Mom and Dad showed us how much they loved us and finally you accepted that this was real. That you deserved to be loved.”

“And now?”

Isabel smiled. “How long have you had a crush on Liz?”

“Since the third grade,” Max answered softly.

“Exactly. And now she’s as crazy about you as you are about her. You are afraid you are going to wake up from this. But you are not. This is your life, Max. It’s real. Liz is in love with you. And you deserve it.”

Max blinked back the tears that were threatening to come. “This is real,” he whispered again.

“Yes, it is,” Isabel said, patting him on the back. “Now go get ready for your date while I finish with your shirt.”

Max slowly got up and walked back to his own room. What Isabel had said made perfect sense. He remembered trying to wake up from a dream he had deemed too good to be true when he was a kid. This definitely had the same feel to it.

This was his reality. His eyes fell on the picnic basket that was still on his bed and he thought of its contents. This wasn’t a dream. He would still be around tonight to find out what it was like to be loved by Liz Parker.

A wide grin lit up Max’s face. Liz Parker loved him, the perfectly normal, perfectly human Max Evans. And they would celebrate it tonight.

*********

“Would you like some dessert or coffee?”

Before Liz could answer the waiter, Max spoke up.

“No thank you. We’ll take the check please.”

The waiter smiled. “Very well,” he answered before walking away.

Liz cocked her head to the side and smiled at Max. “What if I wanted dessert?” she asked.

“Oh, you’ll get dessert,” Max replied huskily.

“I meant the kind you eat,” Liz teased.

“Yeah, that too,” Max said, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips. Liz’s smile widened.

Max paid for their dinner (he now remembered that he indeed had a job at the UFO Center – How ironic) and walked Liz back to his father’s car. He hadn’t wanted to take her out in the Jeep tonight. While this was a beautiful night, riding in the open air vehicle could get a little chilly.

He opened the door for her. “Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning tonight?” he said running his fingers gently down her bare arm.

“I believe you have,” Liz replied shyly.

“No, I haven’t,” Max insisted.

Liz raised her eyebrows. “You did when you picked me up,” she reminded him.

“No, I think the word I used then was gorgeous,” he told her seriously. Liz’s cheeks turned pink.

He cupped her face delicately. “Have I told you that you are the most beautiful girl in the world?”

Liz shook her head, “Not today,” she breathed.

“Shame on me,” Max said before brushing his lips lightly against hers. He pulled back without deepening the kiss. There would be plenty of time for that later. “Shall we?”

“Where are we going?” she asked as she sat down in the passenger seat.

Max shook his head. “The whole point of a secret plan is that you don’t know about it in advance,” he smirked.

“Fair enough,” Liz said once Max had joined her in the car. “I trust you completely. The dinner was a wonderful surprise. And I love the roses.”

Max reached for something on the seat behind her. “Close your eyes,” he instructed her.

Liz did as he requested and he placed a small box in her hands. “Open them.”

Liz stared at the little blue box. “Max,” she gasped. “You shouldn’t have...”

“You don’t even know what’s inside yet,” he interrupted her gently. “Go ahead, open it.”

“Max, I know where this box is from. It must have cost you a fortune,” she protested.

Max shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s crazy, Max, I don’t need expensive presents. I just need you,” she said, caressing his cheek with her thumb.

“You really mean that,” he whispered his voice full of wonder, his earlier doubts still very vivid in his mind.

Liz smiled tenderly. “Of course I really mean that.”

He took her hand from his cheek and kissed it. “Thank you,” he said. “But you deserve to be spoiled rotten, so open the box.”

Liz gave in and untied the little white ribbon. She opened the dark blue box and felt tears fill her eyes as she took out a simple but elegant ring.

“It’s a promise ring,” Max explained, gently taking it from her and placing it on her finger. “It means I want to be with you. Forever. One day, when we’re older, and when we’re ready, I’ll buy you another ring. A better ring.”

“There will never be a better ring,” Liz answered, pulling Max closer for a kiss. He gave in to the sensation, wondering how he could have, even for a moment, forgotten that he had been privileged to her kisses for a whole year now. He reluctantly pulled away, reminding himself once again that the night was still young.

“Let’s get going,” he said smiling. “The sooner we get there, the sooner you’ll get your dessert.”

The ride to the desert was mostly silent and filled with gentle touches and light caresses that made it hard for Max to concentrate on the road. He was relieved when they made it to the spot he had chosen in one piece.

They ate the chocolate eclairs and chatted under the stars for a long moment, until being together like that simply wasn’t enough anymore. As she put the cutlery back into the basket, Liz noticed the light catching on a small silver item and she understood why Max had insisted on setting up the blanket by himself.

“I guess this is the other part of the dessert,” she said picking it up and holding it out for Max to see. She giggled when he turned bright red.

“I know how arrogant this must look,” he started, not looking directly at her, “and I obviously don’t expect you to do anything you don’t want to do, but...”

Her hand on his cheek stopped him and he met her eyes.

“But we both knew this was coming,” she finished for him.

“We did?” he asked hopefully.

“Well, I did,” she replied flirtatiously, kissing his lips lightly.

He groaned. “I’m glad,” he said, returning her kiss. He pulled back and regarded her seriously. “I know how it looks,” he said and shushed her with a finger when she opened her mouth to protest. “But like you said, I knew it was coming, and I didn’t mind being embarrassed if it meant keeping you safe.”

Liz’s eyes filled with tears for the second time that night. He was so wonderful. She thought she should say something but no words would come. Besides, Max’s mouth on hers made it rather difficult to talk.

He gently laid them down on the blanket, never breaking the kiss. Soon, her hands were roaming all over his body, touching him in places they had never dared touch him before. He was dimly aware of cool air on his skin and noted that he was no longer wearing his shirt. Liz’s touch was like fire and he wondered if he could ever hope to make her feel the same way. Sitting up, he reverently ran his hands down her sides and up her back. He was rewarded by a little shiver that made him smile in amazement. He was doing this to her. He repeated the motion and this time a moan escaped her parted lips. Max’s smile widened.

He lay on his back and tried to pull Liz back down with him but she resisted. She knelt by his side and began tracing imaginary patterns on his chest. He reached up to her head and slowly removed the clip that was holding her hair up. He looked in fascination as her hair fell on her shoulders, framing her face, turning her into a vision from heaven.

Her hands on his chest felt fantastic. He closed his eyes to savour the feeling. Her fingers finally came to rest on a spot just below his ribs. She pressed down. A burst of pain suddenly shot through Max. His eyes opened in shock. He tried to sit up but he felt like he was pinned to the floor.

“Liz?” he said hesitantly.

He blinked a couple of times in the harsh light.

Light? It was the middle of the night. The only light he should have been able to see were the stars and the not-quite-full moon.

Michael’s face came into focus and Max closed his eyes quickly.

“Liz?” he called again, his voice uncertain.

“I’m here Max, I’m not leaving you.” Max willed his eyes open. Where before there had been only love and lust, he now saw concern on Liz’s pretty face. He fought to keep his eyes open, to keep her in his line of vision, but he couldn’t.

What was happening to him? He could hear Michael’s voice indistinctly and wondered how his friend could have possibly found them.

He felt a hand smooth his hair back from his forehead. It felt nice. He tried to hold on to that light touch but failed as a new wave of pain came over his body. It started at the spot on his stomach where he could still feel Liz’s hand and spread everywhere quickly.

It was unbearable. It was like this giant vortex of pain abducting him, spinning him away from his love and this amazing dream life.

“Liz.. Liz! LIZ!!”

It was like a slow agony taking him away from everything he had ever wanted and dumping him back into cold reality.

*******

Max opened his eyes and looked into the worried gaze of Michael Guerin.

“Oh man, what did you do? Why did you have to play the hero?” Michael mumbled under his breath.

“Liz?” Max asked hesitantly.

“She’s fine, thanks to you,” Michael replied, panic making his tone harsh. “What are we going to do?” he asked helplessly.

Max was confused. One minute he was lying on a blanket in the desert about to make love to Liz and the next he was lying on the floor of her parents’ restaurant.

“Michael? Michael, is he going to be alright?” Liz asked frantically from somewhere on his right. Max made an effort to turn his head in that direction but it was like his body wasn’t even remotely connected to his brain anymore.

“He has to be. He just has to,” Michael answered, pressing something against Max’s abdomen.

“What is going on?” Max asked feebly.

Michael looked at him. “You were shot.”

Max opened his mouth to reply but started to choke. Michael quickly turned his friend’s head as Max threw up blood.

“Liz?” he asked again.

“Yeah, she’s fine. The bullet would have hit her if you hadn’t stepped in front of it,” Michael said. Max thought he heard a hint of reproach in his friend’s voice but he was probably just imagining it.

“I need to see her,” Max managed to say.

Michael shook his head. “No, Max, we have to get you out of here. Now. The ambulance is coming.”

Max could hear Maria De Luca’s voice from very far away, requesting that medical help be sent to the Crashdown immediately. Max knew Michael was right. They had to get out of here before *they* could find them. If he was sent to the hospital, it would not only be the end for him, but for Michael and Isabel as well.

He remembered everything now. How he had met Michael at the Crashdown at noon like they had said; how he had stared at Liz the whole time they were there; how he had left his booth to go to the bathroom and had heard the scuffle behind him; how he had seen that man pull a gun, had stepped in front of Liz and had taken the bullet in her place.

He also remembered every second of the life that had flashed before his eyes as he lay dying on the cold floor. Not his actual life, but the life he had wished for himself. The life he should have had. No wonder it had been so easy to believe it was real.

For one fleeting moment, Max Evans had lived the life he had always so desperately wanted. A life where he was human. A life where Liz Parker loved him. A life where he was allowed to love her back.

But it was over; he was dying. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. The only thing he wanted now was Liz.

“Please,” Max begged, his voice weak.

Michael started to shake his head again, but he knew there was no hope. He could feel Max’s life draining away with the blood flowing through his fingers where he still futilely held a towel against Max’s wound.

Michael started to move to the side to make room for Liz but Max grabbed him by the collar. “Save yourself,” he whispered. “Tell Isabel... tell her...”

“I will man, I will. I’ll take care of her, I promise.” Michael took Max’s head in his hand and leaned closer so his forehead touched his brother’s. “I promise,” he repeated. Michael got up abruptly and moved towards the door of the restaurant, wiping his eyes.

He ran outside and never looked back.

“Liz?” Max called weakly.

“I’m here Max, I’m not leaving you,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “Michael...” she stopped. She had no idea where Michael had gone so suddenly.

“Liz,” he whispered again, so softly that Liz misheard.

“Iz?” A light bulb went on inside her head. “Michael went to get her. They’ll be here in no time.” The more she thought about it, the more it made sense. There was no other reason why Michael would have abandoned his only friend. Michael had gone to fetch Max’s sister, so he wouldn’t die alone.

A sob caught in her throat as she realized that Max was dying in her place. He had sacrificed himself for her.

“Why, Max? Why did you do it?” she cried, clutching his hand against her cheek.

His eyes sought hers and through her tears she thought she saw him smile.

“It was you,” he said softly. His lips kept moving but no more sound came out. Liz was too stunned to notice.

He squeezed the hand that was holding his once and let go.

“Max? Max!” Liz called desperately. But he was gone.

*********

Epilogue

“He spoke to you. What did he say?”

“He asked for his sister.”

“You asked why he took the bullet for you. What did he say?”

“I couldn’t make it out. Look, I told you this about a million times now!” Liz said impatiently. She was about to lose it. It was late, she was tired, she was hungry and she was scared.

She and Maria had been taken to Sheriff Valenti’s office soon after the shooting, but later that night men in suits had moved them to their current location. She hadn’t seen Maria or the Sheriff since then.

“How well did you know Max Evans?”

Liz sighed. “Not that well. We had a couple of classes together.”

“How well do you know Michael Guerin?”

“Even less.” Liz didn’t even have to think about the answers anymore. They had been asking her the same things for hours now. She was on auto-pilot.

“Michael Guerin left the scene of the crime and hasn’t been seen since. The deceased’s sister, Isabel Evans, has also disappeared.”

“If you say so.”

“You will answer the questions, Miss Parker!”

“How would I know where Michael and Isabel went? I’ve been locked in this room for hours!” she snapped.

She looked around her. She didn’t like this place. The room was completely white and devoid of furniture except for the very uncomfortable chair Liz was sitting on.

A man with dark hair and cold blue eyes was pacing in front of her. He was reading the statement she had given Valenti. Liz briefly wondered why; they had been over it so many times they both knew it by heart.

“You told Sheriff Valenti that Max Evans’ body turned to dust seconds after he took his last breath.”

Liz shivered despite herself. She wanted nothing more than to forget the horrible sight of Max’s handsome face crumbling into a pile of ashes.

“You then went on to say that the dust disintegrated on contact with the floor. Do you realize it’s a felony to fabricate a witness statement, Miss Parker?”

She could only wish she had made it up. She looked the man in the eyes.

“Look, Mr. Pierce –“

“AGENT Pierce,” he corrected her but she ignored him.

“We have been over this a million times. I told Sheriff Valenti what I saw. You believe every word in that statement, I know you do. I don’t know what you think Max Evans is... was,” she swallowed hard and closed her eyes. She would not cry in front of that man, she just wouldn’t. “But you probably know more than I could ever tell you. So I would like to go home now.”

“What did Max Evans say to you?”

Liz winced. The only part of her statement that wasn't completely honest, and of course the agent had picked up on it immediately.

“I didn’t hear him well.”

“I think you did.”

“I didn’t,” she protested, but the fight was gone from her now.

“What did he say?”

Liz shook her head and remained silent. She couldn’t bring herself to betray Max that way. Besides, she had yet to fully make sense of what she had heard. The implications of Max’s words were almost too much for her to bear.

Because if it wasn’t for her, Max Evans would be alive. And in love.

With her.

Her eyes filled with tears but she fought them. She would not cry in front of Pierce. She bit her lips so hard she could taste her own blood.

“You will tell me what that creature said to you,” Pierce said, his tone menacing.

Creature. A silent tear rolled down Liz’s cheek and she let it. The way Max had died was clearly not human, that much had been obvious from the start. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to think of Max Evans, her gentle and quiet lab partner, as a *creature*.

“Why? Because if I don’t tell you, you’ll never let me out of here?”

Pierce’s smile was cold when he replied, “What makes you think you are ever getting out of here, Miss Parker?”

Liz’s eyes widened. He couldn’t mean what she thought he meant. “Who else is here?” she asked in a small voice.

Pierce looked at her through narrowed eyes, seemingly finding curious that she would inquire about others when she had just been told of her own fate.

“Sheriff Valenti and Deputy Blackwood, who took your statement. Maria De Luca, who was working with you. Jennifer Kattler and Larry Trilling, who have been very useful witnesses. They are the ones who heard you ask Evans why he took the bullet for you. And of course, Mr. and Mrs. Evans.”

Liz closed her eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had just lost their son, and if Pierce was to be believed, their daughter as well. She hoped they were treated better than she was, though she doubted it.

“Did those witnesses hear what Max said to me?” she asked after a moment.

“Why?”

“Because I would like to know too,” Liz whispered, putting as much sincerity as she could in her answer. Pierce looked taken aback for just a second. Liz felt a bit of hope. Maybe he would let it go after all.

“They said his answer was too weak for them to hear,” he finally admitted.

“It was for me too,” Liz said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Very well,” Pierce said, apparently coming to a decision. He moved toward a section of the wall that looked no different from all the other sections but Liz knew it was the door.

“What do you think Max is, anyway?” she asked the agent before he could leave.

He turned to look at her. “An alien,” he replied simply. He stepped through the door, leaving Liz alone to await her fate.

An alien. In Roswell. Liz let out a little laugh. Max Evans was an alien and he had sacrificed himself for her. Her nervous laughter turned into a sob.

There was more to what Max had told her than what the witnesses might have heard. She had heard him say, “It was you.” The surprising answer had left her reeling for a moment and it wasn’t until much later that she had realized the other part of what he had said had not been spoken out loud.

She had heard the words reverberate through her soul, calling out to a part of her she never even knew existed and that died when Max did.

“It was you, it’s always been you. You are the one, Liz, the one I’ve always wanted, the only one I could ever want. I love you. I’ll always love you.”

And as she had heard the words she had also seen them. She had seen herself enveloped in the warmth of Max Evans’ love: she and Max, making love under the stars; coming out of a small white wedding chapel; her own smile and Max’s eyes on the face of their child. And somehow she just knew that this is what her life should have been like. For one split second they had been standing at a crossroad and somehow had made the worst possible choices.

Their lives had ended before having the chance to really begin.

Liz put her face in her hands and sobbed openly.

The end.