Even on the small black-and-white video monitor, Maria could see Michael turn stark white. His face went slack, and he looked like he would have fallen if he had been able to move.
"He's got my cell phone. Somebody give me theirs so I can get him out of there!" Maria cried out. Her eyes never left the screen.
Something was placed in her hand. Liz's phone. Without looking away from Michael's image, Maria punched in her own number.
"Come on, Michael. Pick up," she muttered, then growled and thrust the phone into Liz's hands when the call went unanswered. "Call him again. Keep calling until you get through," she ordered, starting off in a run towards the door.
"Maria, wh--"
"I'm going to go get him," was the all-too-obvious reply.
"We can't let you go alone," Liz burst out. "Nasedo is dangerous. We should come too."
"I don't care who comes, but I'm going now."
"Maria--," Alex began.
"No. I am not leaving him there," the blonde said firmly.
"That's not what I meant. But the point is moot, I think. He's leaving." All eyes fixed on the screen where Nasedo watched Michael turn stiffly and move out of the camera's view.
* * * * *
He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to remember it. All he wanted was to go back to before, when this horrible gutwrenching knowledge wasn't his, when the air didn't sit leadenly in his chest. When he could breathe.
Somehow he was able to turn and stumble from the house, the muscles in his legs managing to repeat their customary ambulatory actions and carry him even though his brain hadn't consciously given them that instruction. Hadn't been able to.
He didn't notice the red convertible that pulled up in front of the house, and he didn't hear his name called. Small hands clutched at his sleeve, just as they had earlier that evening; like before, he pulled away jerkily. Tess said his name again, sounding oddly distressed this time, but he didn't listen. A stocky form planted itself in front of him, and he didn't see.
"Guerin. Hey, Guerin. Michael!" shouted Kyle, but the alien didn't respond. He just brushed by the Sheriff's son as if he weren't there and stumbled down the sidewalk.
He moved faster then, picking up speed in a futile attempt to outrun the knowledge that chased him, ready to pounce and gnaw ravenously at him if he gave it the chance. He wasn't aware of where he was or where he was heading--none of that mattered. He just had to go. To let the thud of his feet hitting the pavement and the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears drown out the sound of Nasedo's voice, saying it. Telling him that.
But long before his strong body could give in, the shaky wall he tried to erect in his mind collapsed. His body followed suit, and he fell to his knees on the sidewalk, panting.
He'd had a sister.
And he'd killed her.
His mind frantically tried to deny it, to protest that Nasedo couldn't be trusted and had almost certainly lied in an attempt to...disconcert him? Distract him? Something. But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't believe it. In his gut, in his bones, in his very soul--if he had such a thing--he knew the truth. Knew it with a certainty and conviction he'd never felt before.
There on the dark and silent street, Michael Guerin tilted his head back and let out a wordless cry of grief and rage and horror. Heedless of who might be near, he buried his face in his hands and shook, unable to move, unable to cry. Shattered.
* * * * *
The sound intruded again, tickling the edges of his consciousness over and over before his ears were able to convince his brain to process. He had no idea how long he'd huddled there on the unlit pavement, only that there was no one else around him. And somewhere nearby there was music.
He pushed himself slowly to his feet, still trembling, before he realized just where the noise came from. It was the ringing of Maria's cell phone, tucked carefully into his jacket pocket.
And then it hit him. He'd abandoned them all, hadn't even given them a thought when he'd run from Tess. Instead of following the plan and calling to warn them she was on the way, he'd left them on their own. And Nasedo--he'd already been there when Michael arrived at the house, stupidly intent on his damn question. If they'd been caught--god knows what happened to them--
The phone sang again, shrilly, and he fumbled in his pocket for it, scrambling to turn it on.
"Michael! Michael, are you all right?"
Maria's voice. He let out a deep breath he hadn't been aware of holding and tried to speak. Nothing came out, his throat as raw as if his earlier anguished cry had stolen his ability to make a sound.
"Michael! Michael? You're scaring me. Are you there?" the frantic voice on the other end continued.
Swallowing, he tried again. This time his voice came, but it sounded unfamiliar in his ears. "I'm...I'm here. You okay?"
He relaxed just the slightest bit when she answered. "We're fine. We got the camera set up, and we're all at the warehouse. Where are you?"
Where was he? He had no idea. Looking around dazedly, he took in his surroundings. A couple of dilapidated buildings in a seedy part of town. He wasn't that far from the trailer park where he'd lived with Hank--a long way from the others. Literally and metaphorically...
Maria said his name again, and he managed, "I'm across town. I'm...I'm not gonna come to the warehouse, I...I got some things to do."
She must have picked up on the strangeness in his voice, or she knew him better than he wanted her to. Maybe both. "What's wrong?" she said immediately.
He grimaced. What was wrong? Try everything. But he said, steadily this time, "Nothing."
"Michael! We got the camera hooked up; we saw you with Nasedo, but we couldn't hear anything. What happened? What--"
Shit. He was completely unable to deal with this. Not that he could tell her about it anyway, with the agreement he'd made. "Look, I can't talk now. I'll...I gotta go," he said in desperation, and cut the connection.
It took him a moment to realize he'd just hung up on her. She was gonna be pissed, that was for sure...but he wasn't certain he could have held himself together much longer, not against the obvious concern in her voice. He looked down at the small phone in his hand, and then deliberately turned it off. When she called again--and he knew she would--she wouldn't be able to get through at all. She'd be even more pissed, and he'd pay for it later. If he gave her the chance...
She might even be angry enough to track him down to give him a piece of her mind in person. The obvious thing to do was to find somewhere to hide out until he could think things through. His apartment wasn't a good choice; she might drag Max or Isabel along with her, and he was powerless to keep either of them out. Maria's house was out of the question for a huge number of reasons, as was the Evanses' and even Liz's or Alex's. Hell, even the pod cave was too obvious. He had to face it; he had nowhere to go.
Not until he figured out how to handle keeping away from Max and Isabel for an entire week. Tess wouldn't be a problem, but his two oldest friends definitely would. He supposed he could just blow town for a while. Get away from everyone and everything, escape from his whole fucked-up life, if only for a while.
Except he couldn't miss out on school. He gave a bark of laughter: who'd have ever thought he would be so adamant about attending West Roswell High? But he'd promised himself he would do whatever it took to win his bet with Maria, and he wasn't going to be pulling up any grades if he wasn't there. He'd show up if it killed him--
Goddammit! Why was he even thinking about a stupid bet right now? How could he bother with such trivialities with something so horrendous hovering over him? He needed quiet, a place to focus and deal with the blow he'd been struck that evening. He wasn't worried about a repeat of his own mental entrapment; the pain and self-doubt after killing Pierce was nothing compared to this. Sure, that had broken him, shutting him into his own mind in a mad attempt not to feel. But this--the knowledge that he'd killed his sister--was far too raw to allow his mind to slip away into isolation.
Hesitating, he looked around him for some hint of where to go, what to do. He was very well aware that he wasn't exactly thinking clearly. Hell, he hadn't been since Tess dropped her little bomb on him and then Nasedo finished up the job...
His fingers tightened on the cell phone, the case digging into the palm of his hand. His eyes dropped to it. He might not know where to go, but wherever he ended up, he had a stop to make first.
* * * * *
There was a light on in the kitchen as he slowly approached the house, mentally gearing himself up. Deliberately putting on as casual an air as he could manage, he knocked on the door and waited.
He could hear someone moving inside before a face peeked out of the window. A moment later, Amy DeLuca swung the door open.
"Oh, Michael," she said in surprise. "I'm sorry, Maria's not here."
"I know. The car's not in the drive," he answered, amazed he could sound so calm. "I just came to drop this off." He held out the cell phone, and Mrs. DeLuca took it, giving him an inquiring look. "She let me borrow it," he added, but left the explanation to that.
"Oh. Okay." He turned to go, but she spoke again before he'd taken more than a step. "I'm sorry for kicking you out of the store so rudely the other day. I did appreciate your help."
"No problem," he responded with a shrug. That was the least of his worries at the moment.
She evidently wasn't satisfied with that, though, because she continued, "It just wasn't my best day. I...uh...had kind of a shock."
With a nod, Michael solemnly assured her, "Yeah, I kinda got that."
"I suppose it would have been hard to miss," she acknowledged. Her tone lightened. "I was just about to try making some tea. Do you want to come in and wait for Maria?"
"No!" was his immediate reaction. She looked at him, startled, and his eyes dropped away from hers, focusing instead on her arm. She was still wearing the vibrantly-colored sling from the other day. He didn't know what possessed him, but suddenly he found himself saying, "I mean, no, I have some things I gotta do. Uh, homework and stuff. But I could make the tea for you first. If you want."
She smiled warmly at him. "That would be very nice, Michael. It hasn't even been a week and already I'm dying to get this cast off. You don't realize how much you use two hands until you can't." Sitting at the kitchen table, she watched as he filled the kettle and set it on the stove. "The tea's in the cupboard next to the fridge," she instructed, then gave a sigh of contentment. "It's actually rather nice to be waited on."
He didn't really know, but he nodded anyway, then stood there fiddling with his rings as he waited for the kettle to boil. Finally he broke the silence. "Mrs. DeLuca?"
"Yes, Michael?"
"Can I ask you a question?"
She tilted her head appraisingly. "Sure. What's on your mind?"
"The other day, at dinner...you mentioned a brother. Maria's never talked about him."
With a nod, she said, "Teddy. Theodore. My younger brother."
"What...what's it like? Having a brother?" He didn't look up at her, not wanting to see any sign of sympathy or compassion or pity. But when she answered, it was straightforward.
"I suppose that depends on how old you are. When I was growing up, it was the worst thing in the world, or at least I thought so then. Teddy is three years younger than I am, and was a pretty crazy kid. The last thing a teenage girl wants around is a troublemaking brat of a little brother, getting into her stuff and embarrassing her in front of her friends." She laughed. "He was forever getting himself into trouble, and most of the time he took me right along with him. Now, though, I look back on those days and think that they were pretty great."
He absorbed this silently, no expression on his face, and she ventured, "Why? Are you interested in finding out about your own family?"
"What? No," he protested. "I just...I wondered, that's all."
She wasn't taken in. "You might try Social Services. I don't know what they are legally allowed to tell you, but it might be a start."
"They can't tell me what they don't know. And I don't care anyway," he bit out. To his relief, the kettle began to whistle, and he moved to finish making the tea. Moments later, he shrugged off her thanks and was out the door, glad that she hadn't pressed him any further. Not that he would have said anything more even if she had. She couldn't make him talk when he didn't want to--she wasn't Maria. And even Maria was only successful part of the time.
He didn't know why he'd even asked about her brother in the first place. It had just popped into his head as he stood there wishing he'd never opened his big mouth and volunteered to help. He was getting soft. He should have just dropped the phone off and left, the way he'd planned.
He wondered if having a sister was anything like Mrs. DeLuca had described. If his was a pest, like Mrs. DeLuca's brother. Maybe she'd tagged along wherever her big brother went, annoying the crap out of him. Or maybe she'd been the big sister, and he'd been the one to do the annoying. Izzy probably wouldn't put that past him. Maybe they'd been really close, instinctively understanding and supporting each other. Standing up for each other against all odds.
Or maybe they'd hated each other. He swallowed. After all, he'd killed her. And how could he have done that to someone he'd loved?
* * * * *
Leaning wearily over the sink, Michael splashed the cool water on his face, the liquid trickling down his wrists and soaking into the cotton knit of his long-sleeved T-shirt. He didn't bother reaching for a towel, but pulled up the hem of the shirt and roughly dried his face and hands. He wasn't sure what time it was, but the lateness of the hour--maybe that should be the earlyness--and the strain of the evening had combined to leave him feeling bone-weary. Useless.
He'd finally given in and gone back to his apartment, once he was sure that all of his friends would be home rather than out looking for him. This was after several hours of aimless wandering through the dark town, trying not to be too conspicuous. Once a turning car had pinned him in the glow of its headlights, but he'd managed to keep moving at an even pace and the car had turned away and continued its journey, unconcerned with one insignificant alien. And now, here he was, back home. If he could call it that.
The display on his second-hand answering machine was blinking, telling him that eleven messages awaited him. Maria had been busy. Although a couple could be from Max or Isabel. But he didn't play them back. He didn't want to hear them just then.
Kicking off his worn boots, he leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. He wasn't going to sleep, he just wanted to rest a little while before he decided what he was going to do.
Or at least that was the plan. His tired mind and body didn't give him much choice, and he was quickly adrift in a sea of dreams. Strangely enough, they weren't the violent and bloody nightmares he might have expected, that he was used to.
Instead, he dreamed of her. She was tall for a girl, almost his own height, with brown tousled hair and hazel eyes that sparkled merrily at him. She had his own defined cheekbones and full lips, and she was smiling at him. She looked like him, but everything about her was brighter, more joyful, as if some glow of inner happiness lit her up so radiantly that the light carried out further than the puny limitations of her body.
She was his sister, and she was glad to see him.
Even in the dream, Michael realized that it was stupid to picture her like this. She had lived and died light years away on another planet; she had never been human. And yet something in his soul took comfort from this human form his sleeping mind had given her. She was a part of him, and she looked it.
She didn't speak, but held out an inviting hand. Hesitantly he reached out and took it, feeling the clasp of her long fingers against his own. And then he was pulling her close, reveling in the warmth of her arms as she held him tightly. Maybe even with love. With a sigh, he rested his forehead on her shoulder, closed his eyes, and just let himself--and her--exist.
Of course, nothing wonderful ever seems to last as long as anyone would like it to, and this dream was no exception. He could feel a change in the air around him, not good or bad but different. He gripped his sister more tightly, refusing to let her go, but she seemed somehow less substantial in his arms. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.
There in front of him was a familiar cream-colored wall. He blinked at it for a moment before remembering where it was: the dream room where he and Maria kept finding themselves.
His sister began to pull back from him, and he shook his head and clutched at her, not wanting to lose her. Once again she put out her hand, even as she faded away into nothingness, leaving him standing there alone with empty arms and the feel of phantom fingertips on his cheek.
"Michael."
Or maybe not so alone.
* * * * *
Maria watched with a catch in her throat as the remnant of Michael's dream disappeared and he shrank into himself. She couldn't keep the love and concern out of her voice as she said his name--not that she would have tried. But she was very aware of the things that one word, spoken softly, gave away.
His back still to her, Michael froze for a moment, then squared his shoulders and turned slowly around. There was no expression on his carefully schooled face. "Hey," was all he said.
"Hey?" she echoed. "You disappear on us, you shut off my cell phone, and you don't return any of my calls--and all you can say is 'hey'?" He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes. "Okay, so none of that really matters right now. You're okay, right?"
He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Yeah." Her eyes narrowed. She didn't buy it. She had seen him earlier, on the video screen. Something had happened, something big. And from the way Michael stood there in front of her, defenses readily at hand, probably something bad. She had a strong urge to wrap her arms around him and hold him tightly, much like the girl in his fading dream had.
The girl. She'd looked kind of familiar, in the quick glimpse Maria had gotten of her, but she couldn't place why. She'd been about Isabel's height, but it wasn't the blonde alien, and it certainly wasn't a dream-Maria. Exactly why was Michael dreaming about some other girl? And why was she feeling jealous of some dream image, anyway? It wasn't like Michael was going to cheat on her. It had taken her far too long to break down those walls of his; there was no way someone else could step in and grab his affections, just like that. Maybe it was just one of those guy dreams, with a cookie-cutter bimbo in it. At least it was pretty tame, and not one of those sex dreams Michael had hinted he'd had about Maria herself. And suddenly she wasn't sure if she was glad or disappointed that it wasn't.
With a sudden realization that she was standing there caught up in her own thoughts and Michael was staring at her oddly, Maria stepped forward and took his hand. "Come on," she instructed, pulling him over to the blue brocade fainting couch. He followed with no hint of reluctance, but didn't speak as he sat there. Finally, she'd had enough.
"Look, Spaceboy, something's up with you. Something happened tonight. We saw you with Nasedo, remember?" A hint of pain came into his eyes, and she reached up to smooth away the worry on his forehead. "'Sokay. You don't have to tell me right now. Unless you want to?" she added, giving him an opening. After all, he had agreed that it was easier to talk in here than in the real world...
He didn't take it, merely shaking his head and looking away from her.
"Okay then, I'll tell you what happened to me. I told the others--well, Isabel and Alex already knew, because they were there, but I told Max and Liz. It was very weird. Kind of creeped me out, as a matter of fact," she mused, half to herself, then shook her head slightly as if to clear it. She studied him. "But first things first."
Leaning forward, Maria touched her lips softly to his, trying to convey all her love and concern for him through a simple, gentle kiss. Smiling, she told him, "You looked like you needed that." His eyes focused on her mouth, and he leaned in, too. His mouth brushed lightly across hers once and then again, sending shivers down her spine. "Actually," she breathed, "I think I needed that, too."
And then he was kissing her again, not so lightly. In fact not lightly at all--deeply and passionately, as if she could fill up some sort of desperate need. As if he could lose himself in her and forget everything else. His hands gripped her tightly as he plundered her soft mouth, clutching her. She kissed back, caught up in a rush of emotion, not sure if it was from him or her or from both of them. Her hands crept around his back and up under his shirt, soaking up the warmth of his skin.
"Really, boy. Is this all you dream about?"
In a split second, Maria was alone on the couch. Michael stood in front of her, looking wildly around the room for the source of the voice. He didn't seem to relax when he didn't find it.
"Don't bother looking for me. I'm not there yet," the voice said maddeningly. "I'm just taking the opportunity to check up on you, and what do I find? Once again you're wasting your energy on some silly little imaginary girl, when there are much more important things to be dealing with."
What? Silly little imaginary girl? She was very real, thank you very much, which was more than she could say for this weird androgynous voice that kept cropping up in the middle of Michael's dream, and interrupting at the most inconvenient moments. But Michael was talking now, eyes still sweeping the space around them for any hint of danger.
"More important things? Like what?" he asked, not letting his tension show in his tone.
"Power. Conquest. Playing the role you were born for, living your destiny."
"Around here, we're not too fond of the word 'destiny'," Michael spat. "And we don't waste our energy paying attention to voices that aren't even real."
Maria couldn't help but smile, just the tiniest bit. Chalk one up for Spaceboy.
"Oh, I'm very real," the voice sing-songed.
"Then who the hell are you?"
"You may call me...Bob."
Bob? Maria snickered, her fear lessening. "Real scary name there, Bob," she commented. "But at least it makes it clear that you're a guy. You are a guy, right? I mean, there's the whole name thing, plus guys have no imagination..."
Michael turned to glare at her. "Shut up, Maria."
Ooops. Sorry. But really, Bob?
"Okay, Bob. If you're so real, what do you want with me? Why do you keep invading my dreams?" Michael asked.
The voice changed, became less affable. "I'm here to see that you get ready. That you stop wasting time with all these human pursuits. You know what you have to do. Prepare for it."
"What the hell are you talking about? Prepare for what?"
There was a silence, and then an amused laugh. "You don't remember, do you? They really scrambled your brain, didn't they, boy? Well, never you fear. We'll take care of that when I get there."
"Remember what? And you're not gonna do a damn thing to me."
"Ahhh, I do believe I denote a slight bit of reluctance. Must be the human contamination--best get rid of that. Whether you like it or not, the game awaits."
"I don't want any part of your 'game', whatever it is. Leave me the hell alone."
"Oh, I'm afraid I can't do that. You have a very large part to play, whether you want to or not. You won't be able to help it--it's what you are. You will see. But perhaps you need a little something to...put you in the right mood, shall we say? I think we can handle that, even at this stage of the proceedings. Consider this a little warmup gift." The room went silent.
Baffled, Maria looked around her. What was it talking about? What gift? She looked at Michael, who didn't seem any less confused than she was. His eyes met hers, and he shook his head slightly, poised for action. Then his gaze moved past her, and he tensed.
"What?" she blurted.
She started to turn to look, but he reached out and took hold of her shoulders. "Maria," he whispered urgently, "wake yourself up. Now."
"Michael, what is it?"
"Never mind. Just wake up. Do it now," he ordered.
"But--"
"For god's sake, Maria, do it!" he hissed, giving her a little shake. She took one glance at the look in his eyes, and closed hers, commanding herself to wake.
She could still feel his hands gripping her shoulders as she opened her eyes again, but he wasn't there, only the familiar surroundings of her darkened room. Sitting up in bed, she scrambled for the phone.
But no matter how many times she tried calling, Michael didn't pick up. All she got was the terse recording on his answering machine. Three words, no more, no less: "Leave a message."
CHAPTER 14
By Monday morning, they were all noticeably worried. There had been no sign of Michael anywhere, even though they'd spent most of the day Sunday looking for him. He hadn't shown up for work at the Lift-Off gas station, which hadn't gone over very well with the owner. He hadn't answered any of the messages they'd left on his machine. And when Max and Isabel used their powers to unlock his apartment door, no one was there.
The two aliens and three humans had met back at Michael's apartment late Sunday afternoon after hours of fruitless searching. It was then that Maria told them all about her repeated forays into Michael's dreams, the strange voice that called itself 'Bob', and how Michael had ordered her to wake herself up out of the previous night's dream. When she finished, there was silence.
"You dreamwalked him? From across town?" Isabel finally asked in disbelief.
"It wasn't the first time," Maria pointed out. "It happened before, when I spent the night here, remember?"
"I know, but I thought that Michael had done it somehow. That it was possible because of your...proximity," the alien answered, pacing across the floor. "But he doesn't have the power to reach across town. It has to be you."
"First you heal Isabel, and now you're dreamwalking?" Liz put in. "What's happening to you, 'Ria?"
"Believe me, I don't know."
"You haven't been hiding anything from us, have you?" asked Alex in a pensive tone.
Maria tensed. "Like what?"
"Like a little green somewhere in your family tree?" he responded with a smile.
Looking nervously around the room, Maria said, "Well, I never wanted to mention it before, what with all the FBI stuff going on, but my great-grandmother on my father's side? She was..." Her voice lowered to a hushed whisper. "She was Irish." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Alex, I've given in to Czechoslovakian peer pressure and crossed over to the dark green side. Come on, I am not an alien, okay? Not unless you can become one just by hanging out with them. In which case you and Lizzie better look out too." She sighed. "Look, I don't know why these things are happening. But none of that matters right now anyway. I'm worried about Michael."
And now, twelve hours later, the worry still clouded all their faces. They gathered in the West Roswell High parking lot, not ready to go in and face school when their friend was nowhere to be found. None of them looked like they'd gotten much sleep.
"I didn't have any luck dreamwalking," Isabel reported glumly. "Either Michael didn't go to sleep last night, or he's blocking me somehow."
"Does he even know how to do that?" asked Liz.
"I don't think so," the blonde alien responded. "God, what are we going to do, Max?"
"I don't know. He has to be in some sort of trouble," her brother said soberly. "He might get an urge to take off somewhere, but he wouldn't just go without telling us." He put a comforting hand on Isabel's shoulder. "I checked in with Sheriff Valenti, and he's going to keep an eye out. See what he can come up with. Other than that, all we can do is keep doing what we've been doing. We'll fan out across town again after school, and if we haven't found him before tonight, Isabel will try to dreamwalk him again. We'll find him, I promise."
Maria bit her lip and stared down at the asphalt.
Liz spoke up, a determined look on her face. "I think you need to talk to Nasedo again, Max. Something that happened at his house obviously upset Michael; maybe it's a clue to where he's gone."
"Okay, I'll try that too. But we--" He cut off as someone approached, then relaxed. Kyle Valenti.
"Any of you seen Guerin?" the jock asked, not bothering with any sort of greeting. Glances flew between the group; finally, Liz spoke.
"No, we haven't seen him this morning, Kyle. Why? Do you need something?"
Kyle hesitated before answering. "Not really. Look, when you see him, tell him I want to talk to him, all right?"
"About what?" Max demanded, hoping this might be a clue to Michael's disappearance and too worried about his friend to care how he sounded.
"About none of your freaking business," Kyle answered back. "The whole universe doesn't revolve around you, Evans." With that parting shot, he turned on his heel and started across the parking lot towards the building.
"I didn't..." Max began, but Kyle didn't hear. "...mean that," he finished quietly.
Liz gave him a sympathetic glance. "We know you didn't, Max." He nodded gratefully.
The five of them stood there in uncomfortable silence, each trying to come up with a sure-fire plan of action, not willing to head to class without one. Suddenly Maria's head shot up. "He's here," she said, a curious mixture of relief and dread in her voice.
Alex was the first to actually see Michael sauntering down the sidewalk with his hands in his jacket pockets. A moment later the alien caught sight of the small group. For one fraction of a second it looked like he froze mid-stride; then he turned deliberately away and began across the grass, angling towards the school.
"Michael!" called Max. He'd been loud enough that Michael had to have heard, but this time he didn't hesitate for even a fraction of a second. He just kept moving steadily towards the door.
Calling his name again, Max took off towards his best friend and cut him off before he could reach the doors. The others weren't far behind. "Michael," Max said for the third time. "Didn't you hear me call you?" Michael still didn't answer, and Max grabbed his jacket sleeve to stop him from going any further. Slowly, Michael turned around to face him.
"Yeah. I heard you," said Michael. One sardonic eyebrow rose, as if to ask 'So?'
"Well...why didn't you stop, then?" asked a rather nonplused Max. He let go of Michael's arm and took a small step backwards. Michael just tilted his head upwards and studied the sky. He looked rather bored.
Maria reflexively followed his eyes upwards, but she didn't see anything unusual. Just the clear sky and the sunlight. She lowered her gaze to the spiky-haired alien. "Michael, where have you been?" she demanded somewhat indignantly. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Of course I'm all right," Michael said with a shrug.
"Well, then, where the hell have you been?" she demanded again.
"Around," was his maddening reply.
She persisted. "Where?"
Annoyance crossed his face. "Look, just because we're dating doesn't mean I have to account to you for everything I do. You've got your own life--stop trying to control mine."
She went very still. "Michael?" she said in a small voice.
Max took a conciliatory step towards his second. "She didn't--"
"Back off, Maxwell."
Max didn't come any closer, but didn't step back either. "Michael, she was just worried about you. We all were," he said firmly. "We didn't know where you were, and--"
Michael cut in, his voice harsh. "Fuck where I was." His eyes gave away his quickly growing agitation.
"Michael, how about you calm down so we can talk about this?" Max said, trying to keep his tone reasonable.
Wheeling on the other alien, Michael took a threatening step towards him. "How about you stop telling me what to do, and I'll refrain from bashing your face in?" he shot back angrily. Alex's eyes widened as the alien clenched his hands into fists.
"This isn't like you, Michael," Max snapped, his own temper rising. "What's going on?"
"Yeah, you'd sure like to know, wouldn't you? Why, you running out of stuff to tell people about me?"
Max was taken aback, but knew what Michael referred to. "Michael, I--"
Once again, he was cut off. "I trusted you, Max. You were like my brother. And you had to go and blab everything to Nasedo, didn't you? Who else you been talking to, huh?" His voice was harsh, his face cold.
Isabel put out a hand, partially in denial, partially to calm him. "He did it to help you, Michael. And he didn't mean--"
"Well stop fucking helping me! I don't want your help any more, either of you!" Michael shouted. Both Max and Isabel began to protest, but Michael didn't let them get far. His volume lessened, but not his rage. He was deadly serious. "I mean it, Max. We're through. Stay out of my life." He turned to go and came face to face with Alex, who'd been watching in some shock. His tone turned nasty. "What's the matter, Whitman?" he baited the gangly teen. "No stupid-ass jokes to share with the class?"
Alex clenched his jaw, but didn't respond. "Didn't think so," Michael said with a sarcastic smirk as he pushed past the other boy towards the doorway. Now there was only one person between him and his destination.
Maria.
She met his eyes squarely. "Michael, don't."
"Don't what?" he asked.
"Don't do this."
"Don't do this. Don't do this," he mocked. "Look, Princess, if you're going to whine, do it on your own time. I've got better things to do." He ran his eyes over her condescendingly. "And better people."
She stared at him for a moment, completely still. Then, putting all her strength into it, she gave him a strong, deliberate slap. He didn't even try to avoid it and its force rocked him back on his feet. Then he stood there, the furious red mark of her hand imprinted on his cheek.
"Well, I guess that about winds that up," he said, no hint of emotion in his voice. "Nice knowing you, DeLuca." Hands clenched, she watched as he strode down the sidewalk and disappeared into the school.
They were silent.
Isabel was the first to break the painful stillness. "What was that? Who was that?" She turned to Maria in some desperation. "Maybe that wasn't him. Maybe it's like before--part of him is sealed off in his own mind, and that wasn't really him. Maria?" she added, her tone pleading.
The other girl was staring at the palm of her right hand. It still stung from the open-handed blow she'd struck Michael. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; then she seemed to set her shoulders, a clear look of resolve coming into her face. "No," she told the taller girl. "I could feel him. That was one-hundred-percent asshole Michael." Her eyes dropped once more to her hand.
"I've...I've seen him angry before. Upset. But never...never that hateful," Max said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "What could have happened to him, to make him change like that?"
For the first time since they'd seen Michael, Liz spoke. "I don't think that's the right question, Max."
The other four looked at her. "What is, then?" Alex asked, no hint of a smile on his usually cheerful face.
"I don't think he's changed at all," Liz answered slowly. She ignored the disbelieving looks she got and turned towards Max, her eyes worried. "So maybe you should be asking why he deliberately picked a fight with you."
* * * * *
Plopping down in his seat, Michael stared sullenly at the top of his desk, his mind clouded by the ugly scene that had just played out.
Shit. Shit. It had been far worse than he'd dreaded. He had known Max wouldn't let him get away with just ignoring them, but he'd hoped...and sure enough, his best friend hadn't let him down. Even if that was what he wanted.
Best friend. Maybe Max wasn't even that any more. What if he had done his job all too well? A sense of panic rose up in him, and he forced himself to take a few deep breaths.
He could hardly believe himself. He'd threatened to punch Max. He, who'd always sworn he wouldn't be like Hank, nearly took on his best friend. Former best friend. And he might as well have punched Alex, not just attacked him verbally. Michael knew from long experience that could be worse than the physical stuff. The look on Isabel's face as he'd reached down into a dark pit of nastiness he hadn't known was within him and spewed it over all of them...
And Maria...no, he wasn't going to think about Maria. He'd just concentrate on getting through the week. Only six more days, to pay for the information Nasedo had given him. Information that would weigh on him for a lot longer than six measly days...He couldn't think about that either. He had to focus. He could do it. He just had to stay away from the five of them.
His mind, uncontrolled, ran through a mental list, complete with pictures projected in his mind's eye. First Maria, who looked stricken to the core. He'd hurt her again. Really badly. Then Isabel, shock and horror on her face. Max, so loyal and then so angry. Alex, who'd never done anything but support him, help him, with his good humor thrown brutally back in his face. Liz, who--
Wait. He hadn't done anything to Liz. He hadn't said a word to her. For a moment a feeling of relief welled up inside of him. Someone who wouldn't hate him. And he was surprised at just how important that knowledge was. One out of five...
He shook his head. No, she cared about Max. She'd hate him for Max's sake, and Maria's sake, and he probably deserved it. He deserved everything he was feeling right now, for being stupid enough to bargain with Nasedo in the first place. Closing himself off from them all was his punishment. He deserved the sick feeling inside, the self-loathing, the feeling he'd betrayed both his friends and himself. And they didn't deserve any of it. Not to be subjected to his bullshit.
The bell rang, and he glanced carefully out the corner of his eye, then turned his head to look. Maria wasn't in her seat. It wasn't like her to cut class. He swallowed. She must be even more upset than he'd thought.
At the front of the classroom, Mrs. Gideon was beginning a lecture on something or other--Michael didn't know and didn't give a damn what. His job was just to sit there and endure. He gritted his teeth. Six more days. He had to wait six more days, and hope against hope that he hadn't ruined everything, hadn't smashed everything he cared about beyond repair. He cursed his own clumsiness and sat back gloomily to ignore the lecture.
They were not ten minutes into class when the door swung open. Michael looked up rather uninterestedly, but couldn't see who was there from the angle of his desk. Mrs. Gideon paused in the middle of whatever boring poem they were supposed to be discussing and stepped over to the doorway, where she had a muted conversation with whoever was out there. Michael didn't particularly care, and looked down to study the top of his desk once more.
"Michael." He looked back up as Mrs. Gideon said his name, and realized that everyone in the classroom was staring at him. And standing next to the English teacher was the Vice Principal. "Michael, please gather your things and go with Mr. Sutter," Mrs. Gideon said quietly.
Gather his things? He'd been so shaken by his own actions earlier that he hadn't thought to bring any things with him, not even a notebook and pencil. Pushing himself up from his desk, he snagged the jacket from the back of his chair and followed the Vice Principal into the hallway.
Shit. What had he done now?
* * * * *
Warily Maria peered up and down the hallway before heading towards her locker to grab her lunch. She was very relieved not to feel Michael anywhere nearby; she didn't think she could deal with having him around. The scene that morning had been so bad that she hadn't been able to bring herself to attend English. Instead, she'd skipped class and hid out in the bathroom. She grimaced. Hiding out in the bathroom--such a Michael thing to do. Even in getting away from him, she couldn't get away from him.
And now all she wanted to do was to join her friends and have a nice, friendly lunch. One where she could relax a bit, maybe laugh at a few of Alex's jokes, and completely ignore the fact that Michael Guerin existed. Or at least try to.
She fervently hoped that he would decide not to show up in History class. That good sense or fairness or a sense of self-preservation--anything--would keep him away. Because if he showed up, she didn't think she could stand it. She'd bowed out of English; now it was his turn.
At her locker, she quickly dialed the combination and reached inside for the brown paper bag that held her lunch. Not that she was in the least bit hungry. This morning had pretty much killed off her appetite. But she had better eat something. With a sigh, she closed her locker and turned to go meet Liz and the others at the cafeteria.
She didn't even get one step away from the bank of lockers because there was someone blocking her path. Raising her eyebrows, Maria studied the girl in front of her before giving a noncommittal, "Tess."
"Hello, Maria."
There was an uncomfortable pause before Maria snapped, "So, did you want something, or are you just seeing if you can make my day even worse than it already is?"
Tess looked a bit startled. Maria didn't know why; they weren't friends or anything. "Look, Tess, say what you have to say or get out of the way. I've had enough from your kind to last me a while, okay?"
"I'm not here to ruin your day. I just wondered how Michael was?" Tess said.
Maria laughed a bit bitterly. "How should I know?"
Tess frowned. "You and he...well, you're together, aren't you?"
"Tess, you really need to keep up with the gossip train. As of this morning, we are nowhere near together."
"Oh." The frown didn't leave the alien's face. "I'm sorry."
Yeah, sure. And Maria had discovered the cure for cancer while cruising on her forty-foot yacht. "Why? I thought you'd be ecstatic. No more worthless human standing between Michael and his destiny. One down, Max and Isabel to go."
"No, I just...I just want him to be happy. I thought you made him that way." Tess fingered the notebook she was carrying uncomfortably. "Look, I'm sorry for bothering you. I just thought you'd know how he was doing. I was worried about him, with what happened this morning."
God, did the whole school know what had happened? Of course the blow-up did happen in the parking lot, right in front of everyone. It wouldn't be that unheard of for the news to spread through the West Roswell High gossip mill like a grass fire. But wait a minute. Tess didn't know about Michael breaking up with her, so..." Wait. What do you mean, 'with what happened this morning'? What happened?"
The tiny blonde looked at her, a quizzical expression on her face. "Didn't you hear about Michael? It's all over school."
"What about him?" Maria said guardedly.
"Maybe you're the one who needs to keep up with the fresh gossip. Michael got expelled. For cheating."
continue to chapter 15
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