It took all four of them to pull the shell-shocked alien out of his fetal position next to the bed. Isabel thrust a pillow under his head as Liz reached for the throw at the foot of the bed and spread it gently over him. Max knelt beside him, intent on healing, but Michael reached out and grabbed his arm tightly before he could make a connection. "Max," he panted, barely able to speak. "She's...in there. I saw her. We've got...to get her...out."
"We will, Michael. Just tell us where she is," Max said, gently pushing Michael back into a reclining position. Michael immediately tried to push himself back up.
"She's in...the room. Round room."
"The room from your dream?" Isabel asked sharply.
Michael shook his head and managed to get out, "Not a dream." He forced himself to sit all the way up, swaying a little as he did so.
She exclaimed, "That's right! In the dream you said you weren't in the dream..." Her voice trailed off and she smoothed her fingers over her hair in confusion. "We're back to that again. A round room that's in a dream but not in a dream. If it's not in a dream, then it has to exist somewhere real, right?" she said, trying to reason things out. "So we figure out where and go there and get Maria out."
"Not as easy as it sounds. We still don't have a clue where this room is," Max pointed out.
"It was in Michael's dream. At least access to it was; Maria got in that way."
Alex said, "Well, then, shouldn't he know where it is?" He turned to Michael. "You were there, but you're here now. And Maria is there, instead of here. Hey, maybe you switched places, and she's there alone and you're here with us." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Michael open his mouth, and then close it without speaking. Alex decided to call him on it. "What, Michael?" he asked.
Michael hesitated, then reluctantly said, "She's not alone."
"You saw that in your vision? Well, who's with her then?"
He paused before saying slowly, "She's with...Michael."
Everyone froze. Max stepped protectively in front of the others and demanded, "Then who are you?"
"I'm...Michael. I think."
"This doesn't make any sense!" Alex interjected. "You say Maria's with Michael in the round room, but that you're Michael? Okay, Michael, how is that possible?"
"I'm Michael. He's Michael. I'm here now. I'm there too."
"How can you be in both places?" Liz burst out.
"I don't know. I just know Maria is...there. With me. I saw it." He took in the skeptical faces around him and pushed himself to his feet, saying stiffly, "So read me. Find out for sure." Alex wasn't sure that was such a good idea. The last time someone had connected with Michael, he'd gone all Maria on them. And not in a good way.
Isabel and Max looked at each other, eyes locked in a silent argument; then Max nodded emphatically and took a step towards Michael. Or maybe-Michael. He said tensely to the others, "Keep back," before reaching out and grabbing the arm of the alien--person? being?--in front of him. Closing his eyes, he carefully began to connect.
Alex held his breath as he stood and watched, poised for action. Not that he had any idea of what to do if something went wrong, but maybe if he moved fast enough he could take out the maybe-Michael if need be. Yeah. That was likely. He let out a sigh of relief as Max relaxed. Turning back towards them, Max said, "It's definitely Michael. But he's different, too--more closed off than I've ever seen him."
Michael looked around at the others and asked, "Satisfied?" When they nodded, he moved over to the door and leaned against it, adding in a businesslike tone, "Well, then, let's get on with it."
Max nodded again, before musing, "Maria is with you. So where are the two of you?"
"I don't know. I saw me there, but I can't tell what's going on."
"If you're there, don't you know?"
He shook his head. "I don't see it all the time; I only saw it in the vision."
"The vision," Liz said suddenly. "You're all ignoring something. Michael," she continued gently, "After you saw the vision of Maria, you kept telling us to get her out of your head. What did you mean?"
He considered for a moment and then replied matter-of-factly, "Just what I said."
"Maria is in your head?"
Isabel said under her breath, "Well, that would explain certain non-Michaelish behavior." Michael heard this, but chose to ignore it.
A bizarre idea popped into Alex's brain. Hey, maybe those extra hours of studying with Liz were finally going to pay off. "It's like in math," he said. "You know, if A=B and B=C, then A=C. Maria is in the round room. Maria is in Michael's head. Therefore the round room is in Michael's head."
"That's faulty logic. It doesn't work," protested Liz.
So much for math. "Well, then, maybe it's that Michael's head is in the round room," he shot back.
"Yes," said Michael suddenly.
"Which? The room in your head or your head in the room?"
"I think...both. It feels right."
Alex began to think rapidly. "Wait, this is actually starting to make sense. What if Michael is in a round room that's inside his head?"
"What?" asked Isabel, not following Alex's convoluted logic.
"Well, he's obviously physically here. But what if he's not all there mentally? No offense," Alex said to the alien in question. "But what if part of you, the part that makes you you, as Maria said, is trapped within your mind?"
"Can that even happen?" wondered Isabel.
"Hey, I don't know. You say you're supposed to be super-advanced-type humans, but that's not to say that you can't have the same old mental hangups as the rest of us. Michael's just got a pesky little case of alien schizophrenia, which is great, because all we need now is an intergalactic shrink and we're in business."
Liz spoke up. "It makes sense, in a bizarre way. But if Michael's in the round room and here, why isn't Maria? Physically, she has to be somewhere."
Michael closed his eyes, trying to focus his mind on what he'd seen in the vision. Then he grimaced and said tautly, "She's not. And it's killing her."
Again, everyone froze. "What?" Liz asked in a whisper.
"Being in there, but not existing in reality--she can't survive it. She'll just fade away and disappear."
Liz clutched Max's shoulder convulsively. Maria was...dying? They had to do something. They had to help her. But how? How? She found herself voicing the thought in a panic. "What can we do? How do we help her?"
Four minds, two human and two alien, raced in a search for an answer--any answer that could possibly help. While they were thus occupied, Michael made a calm, considered decision. Taking a step away from the door, he said resolutely, "In my vision, Maria was asleep. Or unconscious. Isabel is going to dreamwalk Maria. And she's taking me in with her."
"But you're already there. How can you go in again? That would put two of you together in the same place. It's paradoxical," Liz protested.
Alex muttered, "Not to mention frightening."
"I got her into this, and I'll get her out. We're going," Michael said calmly. "Now."
* * * * *
Isabel took a deep breath as she lay down on the bed, trying to clear her mind enough to be able to pull off this dreamwalk. If Maria was really even asleep in the first place. If she didn't exist in reality, would she even be able to dream? All Isabel could do was hope. And take Michael with her. She looked at him as he settled down on the floor beside her. Without discussing it, they'd both avoided Maria's side of the bed. Okay. Time to reach Maria. Reaching over the side, she grabbed Michael's hand and began the connection.
A few moments later, she was in Maria's dream, Michael with her. Surprisingly, it was familiar, a vast expanse of sand under a bright, cloudless sky. "Wait a minute. This isn't Maria's dream, it's yours," she said.
"It can't be mine. I'm not asleep," he reasoned.
"But I recognize it. It's exactly the same. Look," she said, pointing, "there are Maria's footprints." Michael stared at then for a moment in contemplation.
"Maybe she's just having the same dream as I did. So?"
"So, the chances of two people having the exact same dream...no way. It's practically impossible. There's got to be another explanation," she said. An idea struck her. "She's got this...connection to you."
He raised one eyebrow quizzically, so she went on, "She can always feel when you're around. So maybe the connection is making her dream your dream. Or the fact that she's in your head is. I don't know! It doesn't really matter why, does it? What matters is that we find her!"
"All right," he answered. "So I take it we follow the footprints?"
Isabel nodded and began to move across the sand, Michael at her side. After a few paces, she looked back. She still didn't leave any footprints, but Michael...The sand practically flowed away from his feet, leaving deep indentations behind. Isabel shivered.
"What is it?" asked Michael.
This wasn't the time to get into it. She dismissed it, and continued to move along the footprint trail. "Nothing."
They were silent as they marched along across the desert, eventually coming to the circle of prints Maria had left while trying to find a way through the invisible barrier. Isabel broke the silence. "This is it." She led him to the wall and placed her hand against it.
"Michael?" she called loudly.
"You don't have to shout. I'm right next to you."
"Not you, you idiot. The other Michael."
"Oh."
"Michael," she called again. "Are you in there?"
She heard a faint voice. "Isabel?"
The Michael next to her said in a low voice, "That's not me. It doesn't sound a thing like me."
"Yes, it does. It sounds exactly like you," she whispered, before resuming her contact with the Michael inside. "Michael, is Maria in there?"
"Yeah, but something's wrong with her. I can't wake her up," came the frantic voice from inside, louder now. "I don't know what's wrong, and I can't connect with her to find out--I'd probably blow her up."
"It's okay, we'll get her out. We'll get both of you out," Isabel called.
"We? Who's out there with you?" was the quick response. "Max? You have to get in here and see if you can heal her. I can't. My powers keep backfiring on me."
"It's not Max," said Isabel, looking at the Michael next to her. He nodded. "It's you."
"What? What the hell are you talking about, Izzy?"
"Just believe me when I say you are out here." There was silence from inside the barrier.
Michael moved closer to the barrier, next to Isabel. "Maybe I can reach him," he said. Placing both hands on the smooth surface, he closed his eyes and tried to focus on the wall. On Maria inside the wall. On himself next to Maria inside the wall. Isabel gasped as a glow of light began to glimmer underneath his hands and quickly spread across the surface. She couldn't see the enclosure, but she could see the bluish-tinged light emanating from it. It covered the wall and gleamed so brightly she had to look away. "What's going on?" she asked the intensely concentrating Michael, who didn't answer but instead remained focused on the wall in front of him. On Maria. On himself.
* * * * *
Michael placed Maria's hand gently back at her side and approached the curved metal wall of his prison. "What? What the hell are you talking about, Izzy?" he called. When her response came, he leaned against the wall in disbelief. He was out there? How could he be in two places at once? But he already had been, according to Maria. He'd been in Roswell making her life miserable, like always, at the same time that he knew he'd been here. Moving his hands up the metal, he wearily rested his forehead against them and tried to understand.
Who'd have thought that his life would get even more screwed up? Well, it was only fair. He'd messed up everyone else's, ruined Maria's, and then got her stuck here. Now she was sick, and he couldn't wake her up, and then, as if one fuckup wasn't enough to have around, now there were two of him? How many more lives could he destroy now? Line up, folks--two assholes, no waiting.
He came out of his abstraction to notice that the metal surface of the wall he was leaning against was shifting, changing beneath his fingers. For the second time that evening, it began to roughen and grow warmer. He looked up and saw the already polished metal begin to shine even more brightly, until he almost had to shield his eyes from the brilliance. Then the light began to fade, and through the now transparent barrier he could see...
Himself.
Himself, dressed in jeans and a pullover shirt, his denim jacket topping it off. Michael stared for a moment at his mirror image before starting at the sound of Isabel's voice.
"Michael," she said in relief, her voice full of hope and anxiety at the same time, "I can see you. Where's Maria?"
He gestured behind him and pleaded, "You've got to get her out of here. She's unconscious and I can't wake her up."
"It's a good thing you can't," Isabel said firmly. "We're dreamwalking her, and if she wakes up, we might lose her forever. Michael, the two of you are trapped inside your mind. You aren't physically there."
"No," he argued, shaking his head in disbelief. "We're here. I can feel the walls, I can feel Maria. This exists. It's a real place."
"No, it's not," claimed his look-alike. "None of it is real, outside of your head. You trapped yourself in there, and now you can't get out." Michael stared at him. Was this who Maria had seen, in Roswell? Was it really him? Did he really seem so...cold? So remote? This Michael didn't just have a stone wall. He was one. But, after all, isn't that what he wanted, what he needed to keep her safe? Maybe this was how it needed to be.
"Michael," Isabel said, "Maria's in there with you, isn't she? Well, when she joined you, she disappeared from reality. She doesn't exist right now outside your head."
"What?" he shouted, panicked. "Of course she exists! She has to. She's...she's Maria." Was everything he had put himself--and her--through all in vain? It was one thing to live without Maria to save her life. But to live without her because she didn't exist...He swallowed, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. No. That wasn't acceptable. He had to get her out, keep her safe.
"How do we get her out?" he shouted through the barrier.
"How did Maria get through?" demanded Isabel. "Or her shoe, for that matter?"
"I don't know. She was just there all of a sudden."
"Try using your powers to knock a hole in the wall," Isabel dictated.
"Don't you think I tried that already?" he shouted, yanking up what remained of his shirtsleeve. "See what happens?" He got bitter satisfaction at the white look on her face as she took in the bruised and seared flesh.
The other Michael, the one across the barrier from him, didn't so much as blink, the cold bastard. He did however, begin to speak. "Try it again. Put your hands on the wall and concentrate on moving the molecules in it to create an opening. I'll do the same from this side. Together we may be able to break through it."
"Are you fucking insane? The last time, I was the only one in here. Do you think I would do something that might backfire and hurt Maria?" If this really was him, how could he be so careless? Oh. Maybe that wasn't such an unfamiliar trait. But to take a chance with Maria...No way.
Isabel called again, exasperated. "It's not like we have a giant can opener out here with us, Michael. God, what do you--" She stopped as a sudden breeze blew out of nowhere, tugging at her clothing and hair before it faded away. "What was that?" she asked the alien beside her.
He looked around cautiously. "I don't know."
The breeze came again, stronger this time, picking up the desert floor and tossing it gently around. With it came a slow darkening of the bright sky, although there were no clouds in sight. Isabel looked around her to see Maria's footprints and the marks in the sand left by Michael's passage begin to disappear as the blowing sand washed over them. "Oh god," she whispered, then shouted through the barrier. "Michael! Check on Maria!"
He rushed to do so, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. She was once again twitching on the floor, her sleep troubled. And then for a moment it seemed as if she would startle herself out of her own sleep. Remembering Isabel's words, he took her hand and began to stroke it, whispering harshly, "Shhh. It's okay, Maria. Don't wake up. It's okay." He touched her cheek, trying not to let his inner panic communicate itself to her unconscious mind.
From the outside, his own voice pulled his attention away from her. "We're running out of time. We need to break through. Now."
Torn, he remained kneeling by Maria's side. How could he risk her getting hurt from his powers? But how could he risk not getting her out, and having her die? Shit. There wasn't really a choice. He reached over and took her face gently between his hands, staring at is as if to commit it to memory. Even though her image was already burned into his mind. Huh, maybe even literally, considering the events of the evening. He stroked her cheek one last time before leaning over and pressing his lips against hers in an uncharacteristically tender kiss. With his eyes closed as if to hold in her image for one last moment, he pushed himself to his feet and away from her, opening them to lock gazes through the clear wall with his mirror image.
"Okay, let's do it. Now." Planting his hands firmly against the strangely rough surface, he closed his eyes in concentration. Okay. Don't go blowing up or anything now, not like last time. Well, maybe brute force wasn't the answer. Concentrating, he tried to picture small bits of clear glass, breaking down into even smaller bits, into tiny grains, specks, molecules of nothing, and mentally commanded them to move. Go there. Out of the way. Goddammit, move! And in his frenzied imagination they actually began to obey him. They shifted away, flowing faster and faster in response to his silent commands. He was actually doing it. He had control over this. He...
...felt a stranger's hands against his.
Jerking his eyelids open, he found himself staring once more into his look-alike's eyes. Into his eyes. They stood, palm against palm on opposite sides of a window-like opening in the invisible wall. Wait--how could he see a window in an invisible wall? Never mind, it wasn't important. What was important was that he knew it was there. A window to Maria's safety. A window to freedom. He gave a tiny quarter-smile, thinking of how many times he'd used this particular means of entry. Yeah, he could deal with windows.
"Hurry!" he heard Isabel shout through the growing sandstorm. He rushed back to Maria's side and carefully lifted her into his arms before carrying her quickly across the small space to the opening where Michael--the other Michael--stood. "Take her!" he commanded, holding her up to the opening in the wall. The other-him nodded and reached through the window for her, not hesitating, even when she began to moan and toss in their arms. Michael's hands tightened on her one last time before he drew them away from her, watching as the other-him clutched her to his chest and backed a few steps away from the wall.
"Now you!" shouted Isabel, rushing over to the opening. He nodded and put his hands on either side of the opening to pull himself through. Time to go.
* * * * *
Maria woke with a sudden jerk and lay still for a moment, breathing heavily. Where was she? Oh yeah, she thought, smiling. She was with Michael. Her Michael. The prickly, stubborn, infuriating, gorgeous, alive Michael. She smiled one more time and snuggled deeper into his arms, only to realize suddenly that she wasn't leaning up against the hard muscles of his chest. The surface against her back was far too soft. And cushiony. Michael was never that yielding.
Opening her eyes, she found herself back where it had all started, hours ago. Lying on the bed in Isabel's room. Liz was hovering over her, tears in her eyes. "You're back, Maria!" her friend whispered, and gave her a blinding smile. Maria looked further around the room, to see Max holding tightly to Liz's shoulder and a grinning Alex standing at the foot of the bed. Turning her head, she found Isabel, a warm smile lighting her face, sitting up on the bed next to her. But where was--?
There he was, on his feet on the other side of Isabel. In a bound Maria was up off the bed and flying towards him. "Michael!" she cried in joy, throwing her arms around his neck and clutching him tightly, her cheek pressed to his chest. "It's you! You made it out of there!" When he made no movement, she faltered, "Michael? You did, didn't you?" and raised her head.
He looked her straight in the eye, and she slowly removed her arms from around him. He finally spoke, very calmly, very coolly. "No. I didn't. Michael is still in there." Leaving her standing there, stricken, he walked out, quietly shutting Isabel's door behind him.
CHAPTER 11
Maria let out the breath she had been holding and looked around at the five friends gathered around her. Her mind turned over and over with what they'd told her, trying to make sense of it. "So," she said slowly wanting to make sure she had all the facts straight, "Michael was just about to climb through, and I woke up?" Isabel nodded. "Then it's my fault he didn't get out. If I would've stayed asleep for just one more minute, he'd have had time to get out, and then he would've been himself again."
"You can't know that, 'Ria," said Liz. "We're just guessing."
"But I--"
"I'm not so sure it was you anyway," said Isabel, thinking back over the events of the night. "Just before you woke up, Michael started to climb out, but then he stopped. He hesitated for just a minute. Maybe he...maybe he kept himself inside."
"But why?" the blonde burst out frantically.
"Why did he get himself stuck in a prison in his mind in the first place?" asked Alex. "We don't know what's been going through his head. No one does, except Michael."
Maria bit her lip and stared at the floor.
"At least we know what the problem is," pointed out Max, "even if we don't know why."
"And Michael did help get you out. Both Michaels did," added Isabel.
Maria shivered. If they hadn't, she could have died tonight. She could have ceased to exist. Gone kaput. Kicked the proverbial bucket. At this very moment she could be serving alien-themed burgers in some celestial diner. Laughter began to well up within her, finally bursting out in a series of chuckles and then a prolonged giggle fit. "Maria? Are you all right?" asked Liz worriedly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?"
Maria tried to control her laughter long enough to get the words out. "It's Michael," she said between chortles. "I always knew his mind was a dangerous place. I just didn't know I meant it literally." Tears of laughter began to run down her face as they all stood there, stunned. Then Liz wrapped her arms around her hysterical friend, and the gusts of laughter turned into sobs.
"Shhh. It's okay. Everything will be okay," she soothed.
"It is not okay!" cried Maria, sitting up and wiping the tears from her cheeks. "I had him back. I was with him, and he was my Michael, and things were almost right again. Back to the way they should be. And then he had to go and hesitate, when he had a chance. He could've gotten out, but no, not Michael Guerin," she barked, warming in her anger. "No, he had to wait one fraction of a moment too long, like he always does, and guess who's left to pick up the pieces? Us, that's who," she continued, practically shouting. "So what are we waiting for? I said I was going to get him out, and darn it, that is just what I'm gonna do!"
Alex was watching with a grin as his friend regained her spark and fervor. "You know," he commented, "These sudden mood swings are much less scary on you than they were on Michael."
"On Michael?" she asked.
"Yeah," he explained. "Once he'd gotten the flash of you disappearing from Max, he started acting really strangely. Like he was channeling you or something."
"That's not so strange, now that we know Maria was trapped in his mind," said Max. "But he certainly was acting...unlike himself."
Liz added, "He actually called me 'Lizzy'. And he kept sniffing that bottle of cedar oil you gave him."
"What? I never gave him any cedar oil," protested Maria.
Alex's eyes met Liz's in an understanding glance. "He has some, 'Ria. He keeps it in his jacket pocket."
"Ohhhh," she breathed, her eyes softening just a little.
Alex smiled warmly at her before saying, "I hate to break this up, but it's almost 7:00. If I'm gonna sneak back in before my parents are up, I'd better get going." Heading towards the window, he stopped as Isabel put her hand on his arm.
"Alex," she said softly. "Thank you. For everything."
He smiled at her. "Any time, Isabel. Any time." He covered her hand for one quick moment with his own, and then climbed through the window and was gone.
Isabel watched him disappear around the corner of the house before turning back to the room and asking, "So what do we do now?"
"Actually, what I think we need most right now is some sleep," her brother told her. "It's been a long night."
"That sounds really good," said Liz.
"Ummm, I don't think I could sleep right now," said Maria. "I mean, too much is going on in my head, you know? I just want to think through some stuff. And I did get an hour or two of sleep, when I was with Michael. So if you don't mind, I think I'll head on home."
"Okay. We can regroup later today and figure out what to do next," suggested Isabel.
"I'll either be at home or the Crashdown. I'm on the four-to-close shift tonight," said Maria.
"I'm on then, too," Liz added.
"We'll catch up to you there and make some plans," decided Max.
Gathering up her things, Maria looked at the three of them before heading out. They all looked tired, but she could see the hope in their eyes. She knew her own were probably glowing just as brightly.
* * * * *
Juggling her possessions, Maria rooted around in her bag for her house key, only to have the door swing open in front of her. "I heard the car pull up," said her mother. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, it's fine, Mom. I hope I didn't wake you up," Maria said, putting her things on the kitchen counter.
"No, I was just pouring myself a cup of coffee," Amy replied. "You're home awfully early. You sure you're okay?" Maria turned and looked for a moment at her mother before throwing her arms around the startled woman. "Maria?" she asked, enfolding her daughter in her arms.
"Yeah?" came the muffled reply.
"What is it, honey?"
"Nothing, Mom. I just...It's nothing."
"Did you have a fight with your friends? Is that why you're home so early?"
Maria looked up. "Fight with Liz and Isabel? No way. I just...I couldn't sleep, so I came home."
Her mother looked at her for a moment, but decided not to press. "Okay. Want some breakfast?"
"No thanks. I think I'll just head to my room. Maybe study my script for a while."
"Okay," Amy answered, watching as she picked her things up off the counter. "So did you have fun last night? I'll bet you stayed up all night talking about boys."
Maria looked at her for a moment, a half smile coming to her lips. After all, in a way, it was true. Not about boys, but about boy. One in particular. Raising her eyebrows, she said with a little laugh, "Mom, you have no idea."
* * * * *
The bell rang, and Maria trotted over to the pass-through to pick up the order. Carrying it over to table five, she forced a smile on her face and set the plates in front of the elderly couple, the last customers of the evening. "There you go, one Galaxy Melt and one Space Alien Special, hold the onion. Can I get you anything else?" They shook their heads, and she headed back through the nearly empty restaurant, over to the counter where Liz was wiping off the milkshake machine. "Will this day never end?" Maria complained. "I am totally beat."
"I know what you mean," her friend responded, "and I got more sleep than you did this morning. Plus a nap at home this afternoon."
"I tried, I just couldn't sleep, you know? Every time I lay down, things kept racing through my head. I couldn't distract myself. I even tried doing homework."
"No!" Liz gasped melodramatically. "Not homework!"
Maria rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Miss 'I Have My Homework Done By Friday Night So I Can Have The Weekend Free For More Studying', it's not that unheard of." Liz gave her a cheeky grin, and she went on, "So I didn't wait 'til Sunday afternoon this time. No big deal."
A bell rang as the front door opened. Liz and Maria turned to see Max, Isabel and Alex enter, chatting intently. They headed over to their usual booth in the corner. Giving a quick glance over the restaurant to make sure no one needed anything, the two girls headed over to join them.
"Honestly," they overheard Isabel saying, "I think Maria's the key."
"Key to what?" Maria asked, pulling up a chair and sitting as Liz slid into the booth next to Alex.
"To getting through to Michael. You're the one who can sense him. You were the one who found him in his dream. You were the only reason he helped us at all tonight," the tall blonde explained.
"Why can't we just dreamwalk him again, and pull him out?" asked Maria in a reasonable tone.
"Because it's too dangerous," said Max. "We almost lost you the last time."
"I'm willing to risk it."
"Well, we aren't willing to risk you," Max told her firmly. "Not unless we can come up with a foolproof plan. We need to know more than we do."
"Besides," said Liz quietly, "If Michael--the real Michael--helped once, maybe he'll help us again, to rescue him. I mean, to rescue Michael--the other Michael. Oh, this is confusing," she commented shaking her head.
"Maybe we need codenames," Alex quipped. "You know, like Michael One and Michael Two, or Reality Michael and Mental Michael. Or Peter Parker and Spiderman." He looked around at the faces of his friends and said, "What? There's nothing wrong with the classics."
"How about we fix things instead, and then we won't need two names. We'll just need 'Michael'. Because there's only one," Maria said. "So if I'm supposedly 'the key', what am I supposed to do?"
Max said, "The first thing we need is more information, so we can come up with a better plan of action. We need to talk to Michael again."
"So basically, we're siccing you on him, DeLuca," said Alex with a smile.
"Fantastic. First I'm a bloodhound, and now I'm a pit bull?" she said in a joking tone.
"Yep. Pretty much. Latch onto him and don't let go until he gives up," he shot back, playing along.
She grinned at him and said, "Now that I can do. He won't know what hit him."
She looked around and noticed that the elderly couple was standing by the register, ready to go. "Hold on a sec," she said to the gang before heading over to them. "How was everything?" she asked, taking the money the man handed her and making change. They assured her it was fine, and she gave them a genuine smile before following them to the door, locking it and turning the sign over to read 'closed'. She headed back towards her friends, only to find a large, gaily wrapped package sitting on the end of the table in front of her chair.
"What's this?" she asked suspiciously.
She could see the amusement in Isabel's brown eyes as the girl told her, "Open it and find out."
Impatiently tearing the paper from the package, Maria opened the large box and burst into laughter.
"What is it?" asked Alex curiously.
Her eyes danced as they met Isabel's. "Private joke," she told Alex, pulling out the case of bottled water and box of alien-shaped bendy straws. She quickly passed bottles of water and straws around to everyone and proposed a toast. "To dreamwalking."
Isabel countered her. "To friendship."
Maria looked warmly at the people around her, and her voice rang out clear and true as she lifted her bottled water high. "To fixing things." Everyone drank.
CHAPTER 12
Maria pulled up at the Lift-Off gas station and parked by the side, away from the pump. Nervously she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before taking a deep breath and closing her eyes in concentration. Isabel had said Michael would probably be working that afternoon. Yep. There it was, that familiar little tingle. He was here.
Looking in the rearview mirror, Maria applied one last coat of berry-flavored lip gloss. It wasn't for him. She just wanted to go in there feeling confident, knowing she looked her best. She caught her own eye in the mirror. Yeah. Who did she think she was fooling?
Okay. All she needed was to drum up some of the resolve she'd had last night at the Crashdown. It had all seemed so simple then--go to Michael and make him talk to her. Piece of cake. Now it didn't seem that easy. But she had to get through to him, make him talk. She geared herself up, silently commanding herself to take no prisoners, before getting out of the Jetta and heading towards the station building.
Michael was inside, sweeping the small room. He looked up as she entered. "Hey, Michael," she ventured.
He blinked a moment before replying noncommittally, "Hey." He continued to sweep.
Okay. At least he was talking. One word counted, right? "I need to talk to you."
"I'm working."
She looked around. "Michael, there's nobody else here."
"So?"
"So you have two choices. Either agree to talk to me as soon as you get off work, or talk to me now. One or the other, Michael. Which is it going to be?"
He looked at her consideringly, taking in the look of resolve on her face. "Fine. After work. I get off in forty minutes."
"Fine."
"I'll meet you--"
"Oh no, buddy. I'm waiting for you outside. It's not that I don't trust you or anything," she said. Yeah, sure. "I just don't have a better way to spend my Sunday afternoon." Come on, Michael, react. Once he would've jumped right onto that opening with a sarcastic comment. She'd left herself wide open for one on purpose. But he just nodded and continued sweeping.
"I'll be outside at my car. Come out when you're done and I'll drive you home."
Michael hesitated for a moment, and then grudgingly assented. "Fine."
She gave him a suspicious look and then walked out to her car. Leaving the door open, she sat sideways in the driver's seat, enjoying the slight breeze and watching the sparse traffic go by on the highway. Well, she'd made it through that much without backing down. Now if she could only make it through the rest...
Lost in thought, she jerked upright when a shadow fell across her. She looked up into Michael's eyes, searching for a spark of the Michael she knew. It wasn't there. So she was surprised when he handed her one of the two bottles he was holding. She looked down at it. It was Arizona Raspberry Iced Tea, her favorite. "Thanks," she said in astonishment. He nodded, then moved around to the passenger side and got in.
Maria looked at him out of the corner of her eye before starting the Jetta and pulling out of the station. "Your place?" she asked.
"Fine."
They were both silent on the drive over to his apartment, silent as she parked and they walked toward the building, and silent as they climbed the stairs. Michael used his key to unlock the door and motioned for her to precede him into the apartment.
Clutching her purse and the iced tea, Maria took a few steps in and looked around, as she hadn't been able to bring herself to the last time she'd been there. The room was painfully neat, and had an unused air about it. Like it wasn't lived in. She heard the door close behind her, and turned to face him as he moved to the counter and leaned against it. Setting down his bottle of Cherry Coke, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked coolly at her. He didn't speak.
Okay. Here she went. "They told me what you did," she said. "You saved my life. Thank you."
He shrugged and said nothing.
Hmmm. That went over well. But she had needed to say it, as much for her as for him. "Well, anyway," she went on, "I don't really understand everything that's going on, and I need to. I need you to tell me." She paused and then ventured, "How are you?"
"Fine."
"Michael, part of you is locked away in your own mind, trapped. How can you possibly be fine?" she retorted, then took a calming breath. "Sorry. As usual, I keep finding myself losing my temper around you."
"I remember," he said matter-of-factly.
"And I don't want to do that now. I want to understand. I need to understand."
He hesitated for a moment before saying guardedly, "What do you want to know?"
"That's it? What do I want to know? And you'll tell me?" she asked in surprise. Surely it couldn't be this easy.
It wasn't. "No promises."
She glared at him for a moment before sighing and saying, "Can I at least sit down?"
"Go ahead," he said, gesturing towards the couch. He remained where he was, leaning on the counter.
Sitting, she complained, "I'm going to get a crick in my neck if I have to look up at you. You're too tall." He didn't move. "Sit," she commanded.
He raised one eyebrow, but crossed and sat on the other end of the couch, carefully maintaining the distance between them.
"So what's going on with you, Michael?" she asked. Leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, he studied his hands and didn't answer. She began to get annoyed. "Look, I didn't come over here for the view, you know. You may as well talk to me, because if you don't, I will be on your back so fast you won't know what hit you. Wherever you go, I'll be there. You won't be able to call your life your own. I will hound you until you give up, and I promise you I'll give new meaning to the term 'stalker'! So come on, Michael, give."
"I ask again, what do you want to know?" he said pointedly.
Oh. He had asked that. Where to start? There was so much to ask about; what was the most important? As Maria tried to organize her thoughts into a logical order, her mouth took over and she heard herself blurting, "Why do you have cedar oil in your jacket pocket?" Oh god. Had she really asked that? She sneaked a peek over at him and saw to her amusement that the cool, collected Michael looked a little uncomfortable. He actually had an expression on his face. Hmmm. Maybe this line of questioning wasn't so far off track after all. "Why?" she prodded.
He didn't look at her, instead fingering one of his rings as he answered, "I don't know."
"Michael," she said warningly.
He began to look a little more upset. "I don't know! I just have it, okay?" She was about to press him further when suddenly his jaw clenched. Closing his eyes, he held perfectly still for a moment, then opened them and said calmly, "I've had it for a while. Maybe you left it here."
"I did not leave it here!" she retorted. He continued to watch her coolly and she backed down. "Okay, never mind that. Let's get to the main point. Part of you is stuck inside your own mind. We've got that. So when and how exactly did it happen?"
His eyes moved unseeingly about the room as he thought. "Maybe three or four weeks ago, I guess. But I'm not sure how."
Three or four weeks. That tallied with what Michael had told her in the round room, that he'd been there since September. But this Michael didn't know how it happened? She questioned doubtfully, "Well, when did you notice the change?"
"I didn't. Not until Friday night."
Unbelievable. "You've only been half a person and you didn't even notice? I mean, the rest of us all noticed something was off with you--at least those of us who could get anywhere near you did. Why didn't you?"
"It's not like I woke up one morning and was missing a leg," he said dryly.
She rolled her eyes in frustration. "You're not helping here."
"I wasn't aware that I had agreed to help."
She pushed nearer to him on the couch and stuck a finger in his face. "Do I need to bring out the stalking threat again?" she growled, leaning towards him, her face inches from his. "'Cause I'm not kidding about it. I will make your life a living hell if I have to."
She saw his eyes shift to her lips and darken for a moment, and he tensed, his brow furrowed, before once again shutting his eyes and relaxing. Weird. That was the second time it had happened in less than five minutes.
"Okay, what's going on here?" she demanded. "You keep acting like you've actually got a personality, and then, BANG! You get all cold again. You're Mr. Snowmiser. What are you repressing?"
"Repressing?"
"That's what I said, so answer the question, pal."
Michael stood and moved over to the window, where he stood looking out onto the empty street. Keeping his back turned, he said, "Ever since Friday...since Isabel and I dreamwalked you, I can sense him."
"Him? You mean the other part of you?"
He nodded.
"Well, it's only fair, I guess. I mean, I can sense you, so it's only natural that you can sense yourself." She stopped, suddenly embarrassed. "Umm, about that whole sensing you thing, I..."
"I know," he said, turning to face her. "Isabel told me."
"Well, I told you, too, but it wasn't you. I mean, it was the other part of you," she fumbled. "You know?"
"Yeah. She told me you can feel when he's around," he answered.
"Oh. Yeah, I can tell when you're around. But up close, I know you're not the whole you."
Michael turned to the window once more before saying quietly, "He doesn't like it."
"I know," she responded absently, then blurted, "Wait, what do you mean, 'he'? Why do you keep saying that? He is you."
"He is, but he's not. He's separate."
"Well, let him join back up already! Why are you doing this to yourself?" she exploded, rising to her feet.
"I'm not."
"So do something about it! Be a whole person again. Join. Become one. Embrace your inner alien. Whatever, just fix it!" she shouted, close to frustrated tears.
He was silent for a while before answering, "I'm not sure I can. I didn't even know anything was wrong until Max and Alex came over Friday night. I didn't know part of me was...missing."
"But you know it now, right?" she pressed.
He nodded. "I can feel him. I can tell what he's feeling. He's there in the back of my brain. It feels...wrong."
"So let's do something about it."
He ran his fingers distractedly through his tousled hair. "There's a problem."
"What?"
"He doesn't want it."
She grabbed his arm and swung him around to face her. "What?"
"He doesn't want to leave the room," he explained patiently.
"But he tried to," she protested. "He hurt himself trying to use his powers to break through. And Isabel says that after you helped me, he tried to climb out."
"He started to. Then he stopped."
"How do you know all this? Why do you know it now, and you didn't before?"
He glanced uneasily around the room. "I think it's because of the hole we put in the wall around him. It's still there. He keeps trying to shore it up, but he can't," Michael answered slowly. "And I can tell what he's thinking."
She wrinkled her forehead in concentration. "Do you think he can feel you?"
"I don't know," he admitted.
"Well, try and communicate with him, would you? Tell him I said to get over whatever mental problems he has given himself and get his butt back here."
"It's not that easy."
"I know that, all right? But I need him. I need you. I need you to be Michael again." He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off. "Even if you're not with me, I still need to know that you're you, not some Michael-shaped pod person. Max and Isabel need you back. You need you back."
He responded in a low voice, "I know I do. But he's...he's not being cooperative."
She burst into laughter. "And that surprises you why? He's you, Spaceboy."
She felt suddenly happy. And hopeful. He wanted to be himself again. Maybe things would work out. Her rising spirits weren't even dashed as he said, "Look, I'm...not really up for any more of this right now. Have I unburdened myself enough for one day?"
"Yeah, sure," she smiled, but added, "I'm going to tell everyone what you told me. They'll probably want to talk to you about it, too, okay?"
He grimaced slightly, and she went on, "Look, if you're going to get yourself back, you're going to need our help. We will give you all the space you need. Just don't completely shut us out, all right?"
He nodded, and she looked up at him with a smile. "We will do this. I promise. You'll be all right." Giving in to an impulse, she stepped closer. "This is for me, okay? I need it," she said, and put her arms around him, hugging him tightly. He stood perfectly still and allowed her to take comfort from holding him. When she stepped away, there were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling brightly. "Just hang in there, okay, Michael?" And gathering up her purse--and the bottle of iced tea he'd given her--she bolted from the apartment.
Continue to CHAPTERS 13, 14 and 15
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