"How?" Michael asked skeptically. But before he could get an answer, Max stopped him.
"Hold on," he cautioned. "I don't think Bob needs to hear this."
With a nod, Michael strode towards the fallen shapeshifter, who pushed himself into a sitting position. Michael looked down on him, keeping his face expressionless. "Got something on your mind?" he said, recognizing the anger in the other alien's eyes.
"What are you doing, boy?" Bob hissed. "Pull yourself together and release me!"
His response was swift and fierce. "No."
"Do what I tell you!" Bob commanded roughly, ignoring his less than omnipotent current situation. When Michael made no move to obey, the other alien's face screwed up into a vicious snarl.
It would have been an ugly expression on anyone's face, but it was particularly horrible to see it on this replica of his own, Michael thought. He usually tried to hide what he felt under a carefully arranged mask of indifference; he hoped no one had ever seen this twisted expression on his features.
"You know, here on this planet," Maria chimed in, "we have a little thing called free will, maybe you've heard of it. Michael does what he wants to do. Good luck in talking him into anything different," she added a little sourly.
Stung by the rancor in her voice, Michael shot her a glance, but quickly pulled his gaze back to the shapeshifter.
"Your mistake was trying to hurt the people I care about," he told Bob. "I told you I wasn't gonna let you hurt anybody. You should have believed me."
Bob protested, "You know what you were made to do. I unlocked the ability and desire in you so you could do it. I read you--you want him dead as much as I do."
Michael's voice was firm. "No. I don't."
"But I saw--"
"You saw what I wanted you to see, all right? I am nowhere near on your side."
Bob began to protest again, struggling against the handcuffs that bound him, but Michael cut him off. "Can it. Discussion's over." He turned to Max. "Do you think you can put him under so we can talk?" he asked, remembering how the other alien had put him to sleep, back during the whole crazy dreamwalking thing. "Or I can pound on him for a while, 'til he's unconscious," he offered with a humorless smirk. "Since he's so proud of unlocking my violent side." It was odd; the prospect didn't revolt him, like thoughts of violence usually did.
"I can try," Max said, stepping in rather quickly, as if unnerved by the offer. Ignoring the bound shapeshifter's snarls, he crouched by his side and laid a hand on his forehead. For a moment, he began to draw back. Michael silently urged his friend to get on with it. Hell, Max could even pretend it was him instead of his double, if it would help him ignore the darkness he was probably encountering in Bob's mind.
As if he'd heard, Max looked over at him. Then he set his jaw and bent back to the task at hand. A few minutes later the fiery eyes closed and the head rolled limply to the side.
Letting himself relax a little, Michael slid down to the floor, resting his forearms across his bent knees.
"He should be unconscious for a while," Max said as he rose shakily. Michael caught Nasedo staring at Max with what was clearly respect.
"Before, you would never have done that," the shapeshifter told Max. "You'd heal, but not use your powers against someone else. You were too...good."
"He's still good!" Isabel shot at him.
Nasedo gave a little half-shrug. "There's a difference between being good solely for good's sake and being a good leader," he commented. "I suspect you're leaning somewhere towards the latter. How else, young as you are, could you inspire such loyalty from your second?"
"We're friends," Max said simply.
The shapeshifter looked skeptical. "I think there's more to it than that. Friendship alone wouldn't cause someone to go through what the second has. I doubt you'll ever truly understand what he's dealing with." Michael dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn't want Max to have to understand. Better for him not to know. The shapeshifter continued, "It's extraordinary. I look forward to seeing what you make of yourself, Max. It may prove to be quite spectacular."
As if sensing Michael's lingering discomfort, Max changed the subject. "What did you mean about a way to deal with Bob?" he asked.
"I wouldn't have supposed it possible before," Nasedo explained. "But now that I know what the second did to the girl, it may be possible to put the traitor out of commission permanently." He raised a hand to cut off Michael's protest. "Not kill him, just remove the problem."
"And how do we do that?" asked Tess.
"You don't. Michael and I do," Nasedo answered. "Your enemy is a shapeshifter, among other things. What we do is force him into a shape that is harmless, and imprison him in it."
"But why Michael?" Tess asked, her face clouded. "If it's because he's related to Bob, then I--"
Nasedo shook his head. "That has nothing to do with it. Michael has accessed his powers, and is now an untapped source of energy. He provides the power, my ability to shift puts the key into the lock, and he turns it."
"What has that got to do with what he did to Maria?" asked Isabel. Michael gritted his teeth at the reminder.
"Somehow he altered her energy pattern. It shouldn't have been possible, but it happened. If he could do that, it's very possible he can make a similar change in the enemy, to alter his energy pattern so that his shapechanging abilities shift out of phase, rendering them inaccessible."
"You mean like taking them offline?" Alex asked, trying to put the concept into a framework he could understand. "The hardware is still there, but the software doesn't run?"
A pause, then Nasedo answered, "Certainly." He didn't sound all that sure, though. Alex looked surprised--he probably couldn't imagine anyone, not even an alien who'd been on the run for fifty years, having trouble picking up a few computer basics.
"Yes, but how does he do it?" Isabel asked. "Changing ketchup into mustard is one thing; this is on a whole other scale."
"How did you change Maria?" Liz asked, turning to Michael.
He glanced at her uneasily, but answered. "I don't know. I didn't mean to do anything to her."
Tess sank gracefully to a sitting position on the hard concrete. "A lot of what we do is controlled by our minds," she said thoughtfully. "We think it, and our powers make it happen. So what were you thinking about at the time, Michael? Do you remember?"
Michael scowled at her. "I was thinking it wasn't gonna work, that Valenti wouldn't buy it and we'd end up on a dissecting table, all because Max had to save his stupid human crush," he said bluntly.
Across the room, Maria sucked in a breath of air, but Liz didn't flinch away as Michael met her eyes. "That was before," he added less harshly. He left it at that, but Liz seemed to understand what he was trying to say. She smiled at him in support.
"What else were you thinking?" she asked. "Do you remember?"
His gaze shifted out of focus for a moment as he thought back to that time over a year earlier. "That we should've gotten the hell out of Roswell," he added.
"That doesn't seem to connect with what happened to Maria," she mused, her brow furrowed. "Do you remember anything else?"
He hesitated a moment, then shook his head.
"What exactly happened anyway?" Alex asked. "This was before I was in on the big secret, remember? I never did get the whole story."
"We had to get the suspicion off Max," Liz explained. "Make Sheriff Valenti think someone else out there was the one leaving silver handprints and healing people. So we set up a fake car accident, with Maria as the victim."
"I had to lie on the ground and let Michael pretend to heal me," Maria put in.
Kyle looked confused. "So why didn't my dad go after Michael then?"
Liz flushed. "Because he was wearing a costume, one that looked just like yours. Your father wouldn't suspect you, so...." Her voice trailed off.
"So all that about meeting me at the Festival, that was just to get my dad off Max's back?" Kyle asked slowly.
"I'm so sorry, Kyle. But it was all we could think of," Liz said, her brown eyes full of concern and regret.
Kyle lapsed into silence. "At the time, your father was a real threat. He wasn't on our side," Isabel added. Michael didn't know if she felt a need to explain further or was just making excuses. It didn't matter, anyway. Liz was right; they'd done what they had to.
Max brought them back to the point. "Does that refresh your memory at all?" he asked Michael.
"Yeah, I remember just how pissed off I was," Michael shot back.
"Come on, Michael. Close your eyes and picture it," Isabel said helpfully. "We've just faked the accident. You're kneeling beside Maria. You put the handprint on her and get ready to run. What else are you thinking?"
"Nothing." But Michael couldn't look at her, and she pounced.
"Not nothing! You're hiding something, Michael. What?"
"I'm not hiding anything!" he protested. "That's all I remember."
"No, it isn't," Isabel insisted. "I know you better than that."
Goddammit! Couldn't she leave things alone for once? If having a real sister was anything like this, maybe he was better off without one. "Look, it's not important, okay?" Was that his own voice sounding so damn whiny? He needed to get a grip, and fast.
"It might be," Max commented. Michael stared at him with burning eyes, rejecting the idea that he was going to have to share what was on his mind. He was starting to feel trapped. Gently, Max urged him to go on. "Bob poses a threat to all of us. And if whatever you're keeping to yourself could help us figure out how to remove that threat, then you need to share it."
"It can't help, okay?"
Max was adamant. "I really think we need to know, Michael."
"Fine," Michael spat, his jaw clenched. "Soft. I thought she was soft."
"I...I beg your pardon?" stammered Isabel.
"Do I need to spell it out for you?" Michael continued tautly.
"Wait--you felt her up?" asked a suddenly interested Kyle.
"No, I did not feel her up!" shouted Michael, his face reddening. "I was supposed to get the paint on her, not her clothes. She was wearing this...this...kinda low-necked thing--"
"Scoop necked?" asked Isabel, seeming fascinated by his discomposure. He ignored her and blustered on.
"And there she was, this stupid blabbermouth girl, and our lives maybe depended on her pulling this off, and I touched her and she was...she was just soft, okay? I never--" He cut off, then bit out, "Are we done humiliating me now?"
There was silence. Michael went back to studying his rings, unwilling to look at any of them. He'd be damned if he'd humiliate himself any further.
But he didn't have to. Someone else spoke first.
"Gentle."
Michael's head jerked up and his eyes fastened on Maria's as she crossed slowly to him. She spoke as if no one else was in the room. "I was lying there in the gravel, scared to death of all of you, of what you would do to me. I mean, bad enough that you were this scary unwashed trailer park guy, but then you had to go and be an alien to boot. Who probably wanted to kill us all. And then you were there, and you put your hand on my chest, and you were so gentle, like I'd break. And then I wasn't afraid any more. Well," she corrected herself with a wry laugh, "Not as afraid, anyway."
"Maria--" His eyes burned into hers.
Kneeling before him, she placed a gentle hand out to cup his cheek. "Hey. We're friends, remember, Spaceboy?"
He hesitated, but finally nodded. "Doesn't mean I'm not still pissed as hell that you came after me, though," he said soberly.
"We'll have that out later, okay?" she suggested. "That and a whole bunch of other things. But we'll save it for after we're done here."
"Yeah," he said, not missing the warning in her voice. She scooted over to sit against the wall next to him. He let out a deep breath. "Okay," he said to the room at large. "So now what?"
"Ummm," Alex began hesitantly. "So at the time you weren't specifically thinking about...uh, linking her to you?"
Maria snorted. "This isn't a Harlequin Romance, Alex. Believe me, it was so not love at first touch."
"I didn't even like her," Michael rushed to make clear.
"Believe me, the feeling was very mutual," Maria added. "Even if he was kind of cute. In a really weird scruffy, unwashed way."
He unbent enough to roll his eyes at that remark. "Well at least I didn't have to get all hyped up on cedar oil to get the job done." Alex laughed, and Michael shot him an aggrieved look. "So save the whole undying soulmate crap for Max and Liz," he said. "That wasn't us."
The two so-described soulmates glanced towards each other and then away. Tess looked at them speculatively.
"Well this is all very well and good," said Nasedo, who'd been silent for some time, "But it's not altogether helpful."
"So what do you suggest then?" Michael demanded, pushing himself to his feet. He ran an unsteady hand through his disheveled hair. "I don't know what I did to Maria, much less how the hell I'm supposed to fix this!"
"We'll figure it out," Max said reassuringly as Michael began to move restlessly around that end of the room. Michael didn't get far, however; stopping in his tracks, he stared at Bob, his thoughts chaotic. Then he spoke.
"No. No, we won't." He straightened up and turned to Max. "I'll figure it out." He overrode the objections that began to arise. "This is my deal. I'll handle it."
"You need help!" Isabel burst out.
Michael swung his head to look at her. "Yeah, I do. His," he said, pointing to Nasedo.
"Michael--"
He cut her off. "This is my mess. For once I'm cleaning it up myself."
"It's me he's after," Max pointed out gravely. "That makes it my mess."
"No, it doesn't. Not when it's my hands he was gonna use." Michael met his king's eyes. "My hands, my...my uncle. My mess."
Max must have seen his determination, because he spoke without hesitation. "All right."
For a moment, Michael felt almost surprised. But Max was looking at him with such confidence and...and respect? The king reached out to grasp his shoulder, and the two of them stood, for once letting nothing but support and understanding flow between them.
"Okay then." Michael felt compelled to add a condition. "But I want all of you out of here before we do it. In case something goes wrong. It's not the energy part, I can do that." He shook his head. "You have no idea how it feels to be able to know you can actually do something. Well no, you already do know that," he corrected himself. Max smiled, and for a moment Michael almost smiled back. Too much preyed on his mind, though, and he rushed on, "But the other part...blocking his shifting power...how do I do that? I could end up doing something wrong. What if instead of blocking his power I make it stronger? Or what if I blow all of us up?"
"And what if there's an earthquake and this whole bunker is swallowed up and ground into tiny bits?" Nasedo put in. "I've given you a viable solution. I doubt you'll find another one that will satisfy your trivial criteria."
An indignant Maria rounded on him. "Wanting his mother to live is not trivial," she exclaimed angrily. "Or do aliens not understand the concept of family?"
"Don't listen to him, Michael. You can do this," said Isabel, moving to his side and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Then trust me to try. For once in my life, let me take care of things. I need to."
"We brought the Jeep and Kyle's convertible," Max said. "They're parked outside. We'll wait for you there." Michael nodded.
"We'll make a trail so you can find the entrance," added Tess.
"I can't believe this! You're just going to leave?" Maria burst out.
Max answered, speaking for all the aliens. "Yes."
"The sooner you go, the sooner we can get started," the shapeshifter said.
Several of them started moving towards the door. But Maria remained rooted to the floor, her hands clutching the bundle of crystals, a defiant look on her face.
"I'm not going," she said stubbornly. "I am not about to walk away, I'll be immovable. Permanent. A rock--"
"Oh, the hell with this." With a sudden move, Michael strode forward and grabbed her, swinging her over his shoulder. Ignoring the others, he started for the doorway. It took a moment, but she soon recovered from her shock and began to struggle.
"Put me down! Michael Guerin, you--you Neanderthal, get your hands off me!"
"Stop wiggling. I don't wanna drop you," was all the response he gave her.
Holding her as best he could, he stood by the door and gestured with a tip of the head for the rest of them to leave. They passed quickly through the doorway, wearing a variety of expressions from shock to amusement. Stepping through after them, Michael set Maria down rather gently, but didn't even glance in her direction as he went back into the room, pulling the metal door firmly shut behind him.
Without even having to think about it, he placed one palm over the lock and engaged it. There. Max, Isabel or Tess could still get in, but they all seemed to be supporting his decision to do this alone. Unlike Maria. Luckily, she wouldn't be able to get in by herself, and the door was soundproof enough that he couldn't hear the invective she was probably screaming at him right now.
It was bad enough that she'd gotten everyone to come after him even though he'd said not to. She couldn't have missed the message he'd left on her mirror. Not that she was vain, but she was a girl, and they spent time in front of mirrors. It was just a fact of life. So she'd seen the note and come anyway.
And then, of all people, she wouldn't agree to let him do this on his own. That shook him, more than he'd like. Didn't she think he could do it? He hadn't exactly been terrific with his powers before--that was putting it mildly, he'd sucked--but out of everyone, she'd always shown the most faith in what he could do, no matter what the state of their relationship. More faith than Max or Isabel, in some ways. And to have her doubt him when for once he actually thought he could do it, or at least part of it...that scared him.
And it was all because of the link he'd created between them, which he hadn't even done on purpose. But that didn't really matter, did it? Whether he'd meant to or not, he'd changed her--No. Call it what it was. He'd damaged her. So how could he blame her for doubting him now?
And what if there was more to it than that? Over the last year, they'd found themselves drawn to each other. Somehow, though it was beyond his comprehension how it happened, they'd loved each other. He'd truly believed it.
But what if that wasn't true? What if everything she'd felt for him was a byproduct of the damage he'd done? If the 'rightness' of their being together, which flew in the face of so much that said they were wrong, was really just the comfort of a matching energy pattern?
What if what she felt for him wasn't real? Or maybe even worse, what if he'd made her feel it?
"Michael?" The voice brought him back to his surroundings, and he looked up to find Nasedo staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.
Okay. Shake it off. He had a job to do. He needed to prove to them that he could handle this without screwing it up. Prove it to himself.
Taking a deep breath, he moved to Nasedo's side. "Okay. Let's do it."
CHAPTER 34
Unable to sit still, Maria stalked back and forth in a rather futile attempt to stay warm. Bad enough that Michael had ejected her--forcibly yet!--from the room, but then the rest of them had dragged her--although less forcibly--away and back into the winter weather. She had no idea how long they'd been out there in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, but she felt chilled through. And she suspected that only part of it was from the temperature.
She would have thought her anger would be enough to keep her warm. She'd told Michael she was tired of him shutting her out, and then he'd gone and done it again. Didn't he know how much that hurt her? She'd gone along with all his wishes, not pushing him to open up more than he wanted to, letting him set the pace, and she'd even gone along when the bonehead cut himself off from everyone. It didn't matter that she had no idea why he'd wanted it. Michael had asked her to, and she'd complied.
She'd counted on him to help her and her mother when Bob had taken them hostage, and he had. He hadn't hesitated--he'd just come to their rescue in his usual rush-into-action way. So why wouldn't Michael count on her in return? Why did he refuse to let her help? It was so darn frustrating. He was so darn frustrating.
And then--the final straw--for Michael to pick her up and bodily move her out of his way--
"Is it helping any?"
"Huh?" she said, stopping and looking at Alex, who'd climbed out of the now closed-in Jeep where he'd been talking to Isabel.
"Your pacing. Is it helping?"
"No," she huffed. "But it's better than just sitting there waiting for Mr. Great Wall of China to finish saving the world all by himself."
Alex's voice was mild. "Come on, Maria. I think you're being a little hard on him."
"Whose side are you on, anyway?" she asked crossly.
He put out his hands to placate her. "Hey, I'm not taking sides. I just think you're getting too worked up over this."
"Alex, he threw me out. We came all this way to save his sorry butt and he threw me out!"
"He didn't let anyone else stay, either, except for Nasedo. Maybe this was something he needed to do on his own."
"Friends don't let friends do stuff alone! They're there for them!" she protested.
"Even when they're specifically asked to? You can't live in each other's pockets, 'Ria."
"I know that, I do. It's just.... I was so worried about him."
"And he's okay. We're all okay, and soon we're all going to be a lot safer. So you should be celebrating, not wearing a path into the ground."
Darn it! How could he be so rational? "I can't help it. I'm angry!" she wailed.
Alex smiled. "Yeah, I noticed." He put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "C'mon. Let's go talk to the others."
She allowed him to lead the way to Kyle's convertible. The passengers climbed out, and Isabel soon joined them.
"What's up?" asked Max. Maria was peeved that he managed to look so calm. That everyone looked so calm, when her skin was practically jumping off her body. She desperately wanted some cedar oil. Or Michael. Or both.
"It's getting late, and we're hours from home," Isabel said. "And I have a feeling we'll need to talk once Michael gets here. I think we should find someplace to stay and head back to Roswell tomorrow."
"We were thinking the same thing," her brother said with a smile.
"Is this some kind of twin telepathy thing?" joked Alex.
"Just thinking along the same lines," Max answered. "Any objections to an overnight?"
"Just the usual parental issues," Liz said.
"When I called my dad to tell him we found Michael, he said he'd cover for us. Max and Alex, you're officially staying at my house tonight; the girls are at Maria's," reported Kyle.
Max nodded. "Good thinking. Even if we left now, we wouldn't get back before four or so. We passed a motel on the way here. We can get a couple of rooms and head out in the morning."
"I'll let dad know."
"No, I should call my mother anyway," Maria said, gloomy at the prospect. "She's probably going nuts as it is." Pulling out her cell phone, she dialed the number; it was picked up almost before it could ring.
"Hey, Mom. We're fine, everything's fine," Maria began in as cheery a tone as she could muster, trying to head off any outbursts of concern. "We found Michael, did Sheriff Valenti tell you?.... Yeah, he's fine too.... Actually, I'm not sure exactly where we are, but it's far enough away that we don't want to drive it. We're going to find a motel to stay at." She listened for a moment, her face clouding over. She sighed. "No, Mom, I am not spending the night in a motel room with Michael," she said, rolling her eyes. "I will be spending it with Liz, Isabel and Tess. Are you still worried?" She gritted her teeth, doing her best to remain patient and only partially succeeding. "Yes, I will call you with the name of the motel when we get there, I promise. Will you let the Sheriff know?.... Okay.... Okay. Believe me, it is so not an issue right now.... Fine. I'll see you tomorrow." Shutting off her phone with a jab, she commented, "I don't know if she's more freaked by me running all over creation because of the latest alien crisis or by the fear that I'm going to sleep with Michael."
"She's your mother," Liz pointed out knowingly. "She'd probably worry about your spending the night with any guy, except maybe Al--Even Alex," she hastened to say, catching the look on his face.
"Gee, thanks, Liz," he drawled. "Now I don't feel emasculated at all."
Isabel smiled. "Don't worry. My mother would be nervous if she thought I was spending the night with you." Alex's face brightened.
"Actually, so would I," warned her brother with a grin. "That's why the two rooms. Girls in one, guys in the other."
"That's assuming we can even find the motel. Or any motel. We don't even know where we are," Maria said.
"Actually, I took notes as we went," confessed Liz. "It might not be the shortest route home, but we should be able to retrace our steps."
"We should have known," chorused her two oldest friends. Alex caught Maria's eye and they both laughed.
"Now that's cleared up, maybe we should wait in the cars," suggested Liz. "I think it's getting colder."
Kyle flipped up the collar of his jacket in an attempt to get warm. "How long are we going to give Guerin, anyway? A few hours is one thing; a few days is something else."
The answer to his question didn't really matter, though. Maria was well aware that Michael was finally approaching, though her back was towards him. Her stomach felt jittery, and not just because she was linked to him.
Luckily she didn't need to say anything. "Here he comes!" cried Tess as she spotted him. The small blonde alien sounded pleased.
Slowly Maria turned. There was enough moonlight to see him as he approached. Hands in his pockets, he slouched down into his jacket; whether from exhaustion or the cold, Maria couldn't tell. He moved slowly, setting down his feet as though unsure of his own steadiness. His head was bowed, but not so much that she missed the grim set of his mouth, a thin line across his pale face.
But as he neared, he straightened up to meet Max's gaze squarely.
"It's done?" asked Max, his voice grave.
Michael gave a single, slow nod, and a babble of voices rose up. Max looked like he wanted to tell Michael what a good job he'd done, but was afraid it might sound patronizing. So he contented himself with a literal pat on the back.
This show of support didn't seem to give any comfort. "I don't wanna talk about it. Not right now," Michael stated baldly. "It was..." Searching for the right word, he finally settled on, "...hard."
"Where's Nasedo?" asked Tess.
"Not coming."
"What?"
"He found another entrance, the one Bob probably used. Big enough to drive the car into," Michael said abruptly. "He's going to seal it up. He'll meet us back in Roswell."
"We're not going back tonight," Isabel told him. "We're going to find someplace to stay, so we can talk." Noting his look of discomfort, she quickly added, "And so you can take a much-needed shower. You look particularly grubby, even for you."
"You get drugged and imprisoned and have your mind fucked with for two days, and see if you're still all neat and tidy," he shot back, but his tone wasn't harsh. Rather, it was hollow, as if he were reacting because he knew it was expected rather than from anger. Maria bit her lip to keep from asking if he was okay. She was too ticked to play nice with him.
Alex stepped in. "I could use something to eat, too. We missed dinner, and all this stress makes me hungry."
"Let's head out, then," decided Max.
Maria spoke quickly. "I'm riding with Liz this time," she said, stepping to her friend's side and latching onto her arm.
Max looked at her with some surprise, but didn't argue. "Fine. I'll go in the Jeep. D'you want me to drive, Iz?"
"Sure," she said. "I think it's your turn."
"Kyle, we'll follow you, since Liz has the directions."
The jock nodded and opened the door to the convertible, allowing Liz and Maria to clamber into the back. Without a word and without looking at anyone else, Michael climbed into the back of the Jeep and sat there, staring out the side flap. The convertible's headlights illuminated the landscape that led to the underground bunker as Kyle swung it around in a U-turn. The Jeep followed.
Several times during the trip, Isabel glanced into the back seat. Michael sat, unmoving, eyes focused on something outside of the moving vehicle. He never looked up, and he never spoke. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the light conversation that the other three batted back and forth, thanks mostly to Alex's efforts. By the time they'd followed Kyle's car into the motel parking lot, the small talk had faltered.
"I'll go check us in," Max said.
"Do you need money?" asked Isabel. "If you put it on the emergency credit card Dad gave you, we're going to have to explain it."
Her brother shook his head. "I've got my debit card with me. They should take that."
Isabel watched him stop by the other car and then head to the motel office. It took about ten minutes before he headed back their way, two keycards in hand. "We're over on the other side of the building," he said as he started the Jeep. "You're in 214 and we're in 217. The night manager has a couple of cots we can set up as well."
Looking at the building, Isabel was somewhat relieved to see that it looked fairly decent. Nothing at all like the rat-trap they'd found Michael and Maria in on their ill-conceived quest for Atherton's dome. She might actually be able to get a decent night's sleep tonight.
But first she needed to take care of Michael. She wasn't sure that he'd even noticed that they'd arrived at the motel, his thoughts were so obviously elsewhere. She'd get him clean and fed, hoping that tending to the body would help tend to the obvious ache in his soul.
Within a matter of minutes, the eight teenagers were ensconced in their rooms. The Evans siblings had a quick confab outside and then moved to organize things. Kyle and Alex volunteered to go scrounge up some dinner while Max checked on getting the cots. Left with strict orders from Isabel to 'hop in the shower, pronto', Michael stood for a moment in the middle of the room. When he did move, though, it wasn't in the direction of the bathroom.
Instead he found himself outside the room three doors down. He took a deep breath, reached out, and knocked.
Isabel swung the door open, an exasperated look on her face. "Michael, I thought you were going to get cleaned up," she reminded him. "There's a difference between the grunge look and actually looking grungy, you know."
Not bothering to respond, he looked past her to find Maria. She was sitting with Liz on the edge of one of the double beds, pointedly not looking in his direction. Liz looked up, unwanted sympathy in her eyes.
He summoned his voice. "I came for the crystals," he said.
"Oh, okay," replied Isabel, stepping aside. Michael stayed in the doorway and waited.
When there was no reaction from within the room, Isabel turned her head to look. "Maria?"
"Yes, Isabel?"
"Michael wants the crystals."
"I know. I heard him." But she didn't move.
"Maria." Isabel sounded a little exasperated this time.
"What? Oh, you want me to give them to him?" Maria asked, purposefully innocent. "'Cause I figured he'd just come in and carry them out on his own, whether they wanted to go or not."
Michael just stood in the doorway, saying nothing. Trying not to let her attitude affect him. After all, he'd done what he had to, and he wasn't going to apologize for it.
"I'll give them to him," offered Tess. She took a few steps towards Maria, but was stopped almost immediately.
"Don't bother," Maria said as she stood. "If he wants them, he can have them." Crossing swiftly to the doorway, she thrust the bundle into Michael's hands. "There."
He looked at her for a moment, then turned to leave.
"Michael?"
He turned.
Her voice didn't conceal her anger. "You might as well take this one, too." Pulling her own crystal from her pocket, she tossed it at him.
He didn't even attempt to catch it, just stood there and let it strike him and bounce gently off his body to the ground. He looked at her, striving with all his might to seem unaffected.
With what might have been a sob, Maria shut the door in his face.
*****
The knock on the door broke his introspection. "Michael? Food's here," said Alex loudly. Michael's stomach rumbled in response. He had almost forgotten how hungry he was. Half a sandwich in two and a half days just didn't cut it. Running the towel roughly over his damp hair, he decided that Isabel had been right. He felt refreshed, as if the warm water of the shower had washed away some of the events of the past few days, lightening his burdens.
Now that he was paying attention, he could hear voices out in the room. There was another knock on the door, but this time Valenti's voice accompanied it. "Come on, Guerin. Stop primping and get your ass out here before it gets cold."
Like he had to worry about that. He was fairly sure that he could easily heat up anything that had grown cold. Nice to be certain of his powers for once. And he did not primp--if he did, he'd be outside the tiny bathroom at the sink, where the big mirror was. And since he had no desire to stare at the ugly mark Bob had left on his cheek, he was avoiding mirrors altogether until he could get it taken care of.
Deciding that his hair was as dry as it needed to be--in other words, it wasn't actually dripping down his neck--he abandoned his boots, socks and shirt in a haphazard pile in the corner of the small bathroom. Barefoot and shirtless, he opened the door and stepped out. Ignoring the chatter of conversation in the room, he took the three necessary steps to get to the counter. He'd left the bundle there.
Carefully unwrapping it, he piled the crystals on a hand towel so they wouldn't roll off the counter. Then he took the shirt they'd been wrapped in and pulled it on over his head.
He'd recognized it for what it was when he'd first seen the bundle Maria clutched so tightly, but he hadn't really thought about it. It was only when he was heading towards the shower that he'd given it a second thought, and it had seemed so logical. She'd brought one of his T-shirts with her, so why not wear it instead of the one he'd been wearing since Thursday? If nothing else, it might get Isabel off his back. And so he'd gone to get the bundle from Maria.
It hadn't crossed his mind that she'd be so pissed off that she'd throw her own crystal, the one he'd given her, back at him. Sure, she had every right to be angry at him for a lot of things, of which hauling her out of the room so he and Nasedo could deal with Bob was just the latest, but enough was enough. He'd just wanted his T-shirt; what was the big deal about that? And she'd taken it and the crystals from his apartment without asking, so shouldn't he be the one who was angry?
And he was, he realized. Along with the persistent stream of guilt that ran through his mind was also a trickle of anger. Anger that threatened to bubble up and overpower if he wasn't careful. Swallowing it down, he ran his hand through his damp hair and turned around to face the room.
Seven teenagers were scattered round the room, sitting on the two beds, the cot, and the chairs, making heavy inroads into their late-night dinner. "We got burgers," Valenti said, tossing Michael a paper bag. Deftly catching it, Michael decided he was starting to get used to having his food delivered in this manner. Of course, the last time, it had been drugged. Somehow he was a lot more willing to eat this. Liz passed him a cold soda, and he sat on the bed next to Isabel to open it.
Wolfing down the burger and the fries that accompanied it, he didn't pay much attention to the conversation that surrounded him, but he did look up to see Isabel watching him with narrowed eyes.
"He didn't feed you?" she asked in a low voice. He'd been kidnapped, drugged, branded, had his mind ripped open to uncover a grisly violent side that scared the hell out of him, and the thing that bothered her the most was if he got fed?
"Just hungry," he mumbled back, not wanting to get into the joys of captivity. "Used a lot of energy."
"So I see," she commented dryly. "Here." She handed over the rest of her french fries. Michael wasn't going to quibble; he was too hungry. He quickly devoured them as well.
He was sorry when he was finished; not because he was still hungry although he could have cheerfully waded through another meal just like this one, even though without Tabasco it was bland to his taste buds. He just had a feeling that once the eating was over, the talking would begin. And he wasn't exactly looking forward to it.
Not that the others weren't already talking; they were. But he was gonna have to join in, to try and explain himself, to try to patch things up with them all. All except maybe Valenti. He didn't think he'd done anything to piss the jock off. Great. One down, six to go.
It was with some trepidation that he realized the buzz of conversation had died down and seven--no, make that six, Maria still wasn't looking--pairs of eyes were fixed on him.
"What?" he blurted, feeling on the defensive.
Max, not surprisingly, took the initiative. "So what exactly happened?" he asked. "How did you get your powers under control? What did Bob do to you? And how did you get Nasedo on your side?"
Maria's voice cut through the room. "And why have you been such an asshole?"
Well, that got right to the painful point. Michael stiffened, but didn't deny her description.
"I was an asshole," he said, deliberately copying her tone, "because it was the only way to get away from you all."
There was silence, and he suddenly realized that they were taking his words the wrong way. "Nasedo and I made a deal. I had to stay away from you for a week, and the only way I could think of was to piss you off enough to keep you away." He shrugged. "So, asshole."
"I told you he was doing it on purpose!" exclaimed Liz. So at least one of them hadn't bought it. He was a little surprised that it was Liz and not Max or Isabel, who should know him best. Then again, he'd accidentally skipped Liz on his friendship-destroying mission.
"Why?" asked Max, his eyes steady.
"Because he thought he could convince you I was dangerous," Michael explained candidly.
Max shook his head. "No. Why did you make the deal?"
Oh. "I needed to know something. It was the only way he'd agree to tell me."
"Tell you what?"
His answer was blunt. "If Tess was my sister."
Silence all around. Then, in a voice that actually quivered with excitement, Tess asked, "What did he say?"
Michael met her eyes. She looked so hopeful, although he didn't know why. He hadn't done anything to make her think he'd be a decent brother. Or maybe she was hoping he wasn't. He hesitated, then softly told her, "He said no."
For a moment, he didn't think she'd heard him. The expression on her face didn't change. Then she blinked once and gave a toss of her head. The show of unconcern didn't fool Michael, who was too practiced at it himself.
"You had a brother. But he died when you did. I'm not him." He paused. Maybe he shouldn't have just blurted it out in front of everybody. Maybe he should have told her alone first. When he spoke again, it was so quiet she just managed to hear it. "I'm sorry."
Tess nodded, then gave him a half-smile. "So am I," she said honestly. Taken aback, Michael looked at her for a moment, then dropped his gaze to his hands. He turned a ring slowly around his finger.
"So," he said awkwardly, "That's why. I didn't mean to do it like that, but I had to know."
"Oh, Michael," Isabel breathed softly. He ignored her, not wanting sympathy.
"It doesn't matter," he said, brushing aside her concern. He took a deep breath, and spoke again, meeting in turn Isabel's gaze, Max's, Alex's, Liz's. Maria wouldn't look at him. "But I owe you all an apology for doing it the way I did. I didn't mean for it to go down that way, it all got outta hand so fast--" He cut himself off. No more excuses. Out of hand or not, his actions had hurt them.
"I'm sorry," he finished simply.
Alex, ever quick to forgive, was the first to react. "Wow. A Michael Guerin apology," he commented with a grin. "I get the feeling this doesn't happen very often."
"Not as a rule, no," Isabel chimed in. Michael could almost hear the relief in her voice.
"Probably not as often as it should," he admitted. "Unfortunately the asshole part is a little more frequent."
"Well, everyone needs a hobby," Alex quipped. "Tell you what, though. The next time you feel the need to break up with us, how about just sending a nice Dear John letter?"
"Or flowers," Isabel suggested. "You can always say it with flowers." She looked like she was tempted to give him a warm hug, but, to his relief, she contented herself with reaching over and squeezing his hand.
"Welcome back, Michael," was Liz's simple comment.
From his seat on the cot, Valenti said, "I don't know about the rest of them, but I know how you can make it up to me."
Michael's eyebrow rose. Make what up to him? He hadn't been there when Michael screwed up all his friendships. And being in the alien in-club didn't make Valenti one of those friends. Neither did a couple of rides and one semi-intense conversation.
Realizing that Michael wasn't going to ask, the jock went ahead without waiting. "So, seeing that you owe us all one--"
Michael interrupted with, "I don't owe you anything."
"Seeing that you owe us all one for coming out here to save your ass," Valenti went on, disregarding the narrowing of Michael's eyes, "I figure for my share you can show up to basketball practice after school on Tuesday."
"And do what, exactly?" Michael asked warily.
Valenti looked at him like he'd grown another head. "Try out for the team, sport. What else?"
Michael stared at him for a moment, not really believing what he'd just heard. Then the corner of his mouth started to twitch, and for the first time in eons, he began to laugh. The sound was strange in his ears. "You...you want me to try out for the basketball team?" he managed to get out.
"Well, yeah. You're fast, and you've got that alien super-strength going for you."
"Alien super-strength? You've been reading too many comic books," Michael said. Once again Valenti ignored his protests.
"So if you've got any skill at all with the ball, you'll improve the team." The jock considered for a moment. "Of course, almost anything would improve the team. You have played before, right? At least in gym class?"
"Michael likes to cut gym class," Max reminded him. "Especially when anything to do with teams comes up."
"Which leaves what, track and hopscotch?" Valenti asked petulantly.
By now, Michael had recovered enough from his laughing fit to shake his head and say, "Not gonna happen, Valenti. The only way in hell you could get me to try out would be to--Nope. Not even then." Feeling strangely lighthearted, he smirked at the jock.
"Isn't all this nice," said a voice bitterly. "A few little words, and everything's all rosy."
"Maria--" Liz began, but Michael wasn't going to let her get caught in the middle of this.
"No. Let her have it out," he said.
"How magnanimous of you." Maria's voice was taut.
"Look, you're obviously pissed as hell at me. Fine. So what's it this time? I'm a jerk, I'm an asshole, what?"
Alex tried to break in. "Maybe you should--"
Michael was firm. "If she wants to pick a fight with me, let her."
"Pick a fight with you?" Maria exclaimed icily. "Why should I want to pick a fight with you, Michael? It's not like you've done anything to deserve that. Oh wait, maybe you have."
Michael found his own temper rising to match hers. "That's right. Blame everything on me, even though I had things under control until you barged in."
Her voice rose to a shriek. "Barged in? You could have been hurt, or worse! We came to rescue you, and you call it barging in?"
"Yeah, that's what I call it. You weren't invited to come and 'rescue' me. In fact, you were quite specifically disinvited. If you--"
"Enough!" Max's voice cut through the escalating argument. "Michael, Maria, take it outside." Michael opened his mouth to protest, but Max cut him off. "I want you both to leave. And don't come back until you've worked this out."
"Who are you to tell me what to do?" Maria said furiously.
Max looked at her, no hint of a smile on his face. "I'm the guy who's going to pick you up and carry you outside if you don't go on your own. You didn't seem to like it much the last time it happened, so you might want to avoid a repeat."
"Max!" Isabel chided, but stopped objecting when he looked pointedly at her and then winked. "Oh." She shut up.
Michael watched as Maria looked around the room, getting no support from any of her friends. "I can't believe this," she muttered, then stormed over to the door. "Fine!" she said, slamming the door on her way out. Michael didn't bother to hide his smirk.
"You too, Michael," Max ordered, not giving in an inch.
Michael rose from his seat. "Yes, my liege," he mocked. He gave a sarcastic salute that probably would have been more effective if his hair wasn't sticking up in damp locks or if he'd at least been wearing shoes, and went out the door.
Following him, Max put his hand over the lock and fastened it with a sharp burst of his powers. "There," he said, and turned to face the others.
"Wow," said Kyle, finding his voice.
But Liz was smiling. "They wouldn't have gone if they both hadn't wanted to," she commented. "They're just both as stubborn as you can get."
"Do you really think so?" Tess asked, sounding not at all sure herself. Liz nodded.
"Maria's only as upset as she is because she loves him," she said simply.
"And Michael wants Maria to stay out of danger because he loves her," added Isabel indulgently. "He's just not very good at showing it."
"They'll talk it out and it'll be fine," said Max.
Kyle looked at him rather skeptically. "Somehow I don't see Guerin as all that good at talking," he said.
"Maria's good enough for the both of them," Liz assured him. "As long as they can keep from killing each other first, they'll be all right."
"Sure they will," Max asserted. But he suddenly felt less sure of himself, and his eyes fastened warily onto the door.
TBC...
continue to chapters 35 and 36
email me