Title: Someone To Turn To Author: Lori R 10/02 Email: Gussywussy55@y... Category: Cliffies Rating: PG 13 Disclaimer: They are not mine, but I use them for my own enjoyment. No infringement is intended. Feedback: Sure. Summery: After Isabel killed Whitaker. What 'should' have happened from a Cliffie's point of view. **************** . "Where the hell is she?" thought Michael as he turned his motorcycle towards Roswell. "How could I have missed her?" He had been searching for hours for Isabel and he was getting really worried. After she had saved Tess by fighting and killing Whitaker, Isabel had taken off on foot alone to deal with taking a life. He thought she shouldn't be alone, but what did he know. When he'd killed Pierce, he'd wanted to be alone too. But he was tougher than Isabel. His life had been hard, while she'd led a relatively easy one despite hiding the fact she was alien. She wasn't weak, but she might not be able to handle the fact that she'd killed someone, even it was an alien. So without telling Max, who really didn't understand what she was going through, he'd set out to find her. Michael was about to try a new direction when up ahead he could see a lone figure walking slowly towards Roswell. The length of a long dress confirmed he had found the one he was looking for. Judging from the direction she was coming from he guessed she'd made her way to the cave which he found to be amazing. How she had walked that far and now back to Roswell he had no idea, but he should have known that is where she would go. Michael pulled over behind Isabel. She never even turned or stopped at his approach which surprised him. He killed the engine and got off the bike. "Isabel?" called out Michael. Isabel stopped and turned to stare at Michael. "Isabel, are you okay?" asked Michael as he approached her. She shook her head. "I don't think so," she whispered. Michael nodded and put his arm around her shoulder. She was shaking. "Let's go," he told her as he guided her to his bike. Looking down at her ruined dress he said, "That dress is going to get caught Isabel. It's trashed anyway." He reached down and grabbed the bottom and tore it off up to her knees, tossing the excess away. "Damn!" he hissed as he looked at her bare feet, cut up and bleeding from her long walk. "I bet your feet hurt like hell," he said as he helped her on his bike. "Yes," Isabel answered without emotion. Michael stared thoughtfully at her a moment before he moved a tendril of hair out of her smudged face. "We'll get Max to fix those up for you, Isabel. Let's get you home." "No....I can't...go home. Not yet. Please don't make me go home yet Michael. Please," whispered Isabel as she looked at Michael with haunted eyes. Michael knew her feet needed tending , but her mind needed it more. "Okay. We'll go to my place." He helped her on his bike and when he was satisfied she would hang on, he headed towards his apartment. ***************** Michael snapped on the lights and said, "There are clean towels in the bathroom. Help yourself to whatever's in there. I'll get you some clean clothes to put on. I'll also let Max know you're with me." Isabel nodded slightly. "Thanks." "Do you want anything to drink....eat?" asked Michael. Isabel shook her head. "No." Michael nodded. "Okay, then. Why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll search out some clothes." He watched as Isabel slowly made her way to the bathroom and closed the door. His heart was breaking for her. He had felt horrible after killing Pierce so he knew how she felt. He picked up the phone and dialed Max's number. It rang a few times before Max picked up. "Hello?" "Max, it's me. I've got Isabel here." "What's she doing there? I thought she'd be home by now." Michael rubbed the back of his neck. "I found her out on the edge of town. Looks like she walked to the cave and back," said Michael. "The cave! What was she doing there?" asked Max with surprise. "Trying to deal with killing someone is my guess," Michael replied. "She should never have been allowed to go off alone Max. Killing someone...it's hard." Max's sigh could be heard over the phone. "I didn't think it would be that hard on her. I don't know why. Isabel seems so strong. I was wrong. I'm glad you found her." "She's sort of in shock so I'm going to let her stay here with me tonight Max. Maybe I can get her to talk about it," said Michael. "Gawd, I feel so bad for letting her go off like that. I'll be right over," said Max. "Max, I think she needs to talk....but I think it needs to be to me. I've killed someone...you haven't. I know what she's going through. Tomorrow you can take care of her feet. She walked all that way without shoes and her feet are a mess," Michael told him. Michael knew Max was mentally beating himself up over Isabel, and honestly Michael thought he should. But then he'd been no better. He should have stopped her himself when she first walked off instead of just leaving to take Maria home. "I'll be over first thing tomorrow unless you call earlier," said Max. "K," said Michael as he hung up the phone. Michael dug around in his dresser until he found a clean T-shirt and some sweat bottoms. He took them to the bathroom door and got ready to knock when he noticed the water wasn't on. "Isabel? I didn't hear the water. Did you clean up already?" asked Michael. When Isabel didn't answer he knocked on the door. "Isabel. I brought some clean clothes. Are you ready for them?" When he still didn't get an answer Michael opened the door and stepped inside. Isabel was standing in front of the mirror, still in the tattered dress, staring at herself. "Isabel....are you okay?" asked Michael. "I was trying to see if I looked ....you know....different. I look the same. Don't I look the same to you? I mean, can you tell I murdered someone?" Isabel asked in a strained voice. Michael's throat constricted as he moved behind her and met her eyes in the mirror. "You protected yourself and Tess, Isabel. What you did wasn't murder, it was self defense. Don't get the two confused," said Michael as he placed his hands on her shoulders to lend some sort of comfort to her. She was shaking and her skin was like ice. Shock. "You're cold. I've heard a warm bath helps the cold," said Michael. Isabel nodded and reached for her zipper behind her back, but her hands were shaking so hard she couldn't manage it. Michael took a deep breath. "Here....let me." Isabel dropped her hands as Michael reached for the zipper and lowered it to the bottom allowing the dress to fall open. It slid down Isabel's body in a rustling heap causing Michael to gasp. He hadn't expected the dress to fall off or Isabel's apparent uncaring that it had and that she was near naked before him. She stood there in her panties and nothing else, her body bruised from fighting with Whitaker. Michael swallowed and bit back a curse as he looked at her battered back. Maybe he should have told Max to come over tonight and heal her. He had no idea she was this hurt. "Isabel, I'm calling Max. You need him to heal more than just your feet," said Michael. Isabel shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. I can't even feel any pain." "You're not fine Isabel. Your back is a mess and..." He made himself look in the mirror at her chest. He told himself to focus on her injuries and nothing else. "You have bruises all over Isabel. Let me call Max," he said again. "No. I'm fine," she repeated quietly. Michael wished he could take her physical pain away like Max, but since he couldn't do that and she wouldn't let him call Max to help her, maybe he could help with her mental pain and getting clean. "I just need to get cleaned up. I need to ....be alone," said Isabel as she crossed her arms over her chest as if just realizing she was naked before Michael. Michael nodded. "Okay. But I'm right outside if you need me." "Okay," said Isabel as she watched Michael shut the door behind him. Isabel moved to Michael's tub and placed the stopper in the bottom, before turning on the water. As the tub filled up, she moved back to the mirror and began to slowly take the pins out of her hair allowing the long blond tresses to fall past her shoulders in a tangled mass. Sliding her hands to the top of her panties she slid them off then walked over to the tub and turned off the water. She stepped in and sank down in the warmth of the water letting it caress her bruised and aching body. Picking up the soap bottle, Isabel poured a large amount in her hands and began to bathe her body. With each touch of a sore muscle her body cried out. And with that pain came the memory of how she acquired it. Whitaker. Tears began coursing down her cheeks as she remembered how scared she had been when she found Tess. How terrified she felt when she realized Whitaker was a skin. How horrified and sickened she felt at killing her. She sank down under the water and then rose back up. Nothing could wash away the feeling of taking a life. Is this how Michael had felt? She picked up the shampoo and began to scrub her head. She could smell death on herself even though she had bathed. She needed to get it off. She grabbed the soap bottle again and scrubbed her skin until it hurt. The tears were turning to sobs now. Sobs that were on the brink of hysteria. The door of the bathroom flew open and Michael stood there looking down at the tub. Isabel sat in the water covered in soap from head to toe, but he could still see she was rubbing herself raw. "Isabel! Isabel stop!" he ordered as he rushed over to the tub and knelt down, grabbing her hands. She fought him as she tried to continue to rid herself of the smell and the memory of killing someone. "Don't....Isabel, don't! Isabel, stop it!" ordered Michael again as he pulled her to him. She was shaking uncontrollably in his arms as she gave up her fight. "I killed someone Michael...I killed someone," she choked out. "I know....I know....ssshhhhhh," he soothed as he patted her head. He closed his eyes and held her head pressed to his chest. He remembered his own suffering and knew what she was feeling. He had never wanted her or Max to feel like this, especially her. "We've got to get you out of the tub," he told her as he released her. He grabbed a cup he'd left on the floor after drinking coffee this morning and used it to rinse her hair and the rest of the soap off. Finishing that task, he stuck his hand down in the tub and pulled the plug to let the soapy water run out. He reached for a towel and stood up to hold it open. "Stand up," he ordered. Isabel didn't move. Michael threw the towel over his shoulder and then kept his eyes focused on Isabel's as he leaned down and helped her up. Grabbing the towel and wrapping it around her, he lifted her up and set her down outside the tub. Taking another towel he placed it over her hair and gently rubbed. Grabbing his brush, he led her out of the bathroom to the couch. "Sit," he instructed her. When Isabel did as he asked, he went to grab the blanket off of his bed and returned to wrap it around her. "Give me the towel before you get sick." "We...don't....get....sick," she told him shaking. "Yeah right. You still believe that after I got laid out?" he asked as he held out his hand for the wet towel. "That was different," she said quietly as she wiggled out of the towel and handed it to him while staying covered with the blanket. "And you took care of me," he reminded her as he tossed the towel aside and sat down beside her. "I couldn't let you die. I needed you," she replied softly. Michael paused at her words. The he, Isabel, and Max had always taken care of one another, but this time it was different. There was a bond between him and Isabel that wouldn't be broken. Just like with the dreams, they had something they couldn't share with Max. "You need to brush your hair," he told her uncomfortably. He placed the brush in Isabel's hand, but she let it fall to her lap. Michael picked it up and began to awkwardly, but gently brush the tangles from her hair. The task was not unfamiliar to him, but he had not brushed anyones hair but his own in a very long time. When they had been younger he had watched Isabel brush her long hair and was fascinated with the way the sun caught the colors and made it shine. He'd finally asked her one day if he could brush it. Max had teased him, but Isabel hadn't laughed. She said having her hair brushed relaxed her. He hoped it was relaxing her now. Isabel closed her eyes and let Michael brush away some of the tension in her body. "Are you asleep?" asked Michael quietly as he slowed the brush. "No. I'm just trying to forget," Isabel whispered back. She opened her eyes and turned to him. "Did you feel like this Michael? Did you feel this despair....this anger....this....this feeling of wondering if in time you could kill and not think twice about it?" Michael blew out a breath and considered her question before he answered. "Yeah, I felt all of those things. I wondered if I would get to the point where I would take a life and not feel anything." He looked down at the brush then back at Isabel. "But Valenti, he set me straight. He said that it never gets easier....and you never forget any of them. They haunt you, but you do what you do to protect those you care about. He said in time it would stop eating at me. You know, that I had taken a life. He was right." Isabel sighed. "She scared me, Michael. After what she did to Tess, and what she said, I knew I would do anything to stay safe and protect all of you. I...I just didn't know I could kill like that or how I would feel." She looked at Michael. "She literally blew up Michael. Nothing but dust." Isabel shivered at the memory. Michael took her in his arms. "I know. Right now it doesn't seem like it, but this feeling will get better. The pain you're feeling, it will began to fade. I'm going to be right here to help you. I promise." Isabel nodded. "I hope you're right about the pain fading, because I don't know if I can't stand this." She paused. "Michael, there's something else." Michael waited. "Whitaker said they were here for a 'granolith'. She said we had it." "I heard you tell Max. Did she say what it was and why they wanted it?" he asked her. Isabel shook her head. "No, but the thing is...." She took a deep breath. "When I was at the pod chamber I got angry and threw a rock. It...it made a hole in one of the pods." She looked Michael in the face. "Michael, I found the granolith." Michael's mouth fell open. "You what?" "I found what I think is the granolith that Whitaker kept going on about. What are we going to do?" Michael bit his lip and thought. "This is something we can't tell Max over the phone, but it's also something we can't do anything about tonight. Did you hide it?" With the condition he had found her in, he hoped that she had not left the chamber uncovered. Isabel nodded. "Good. Well then we'll just wait for Max to come by in the morning to heal your feet and tell him then," said Michael. He looked down at her feet. "Speaking of feet, how do yours feel?" Isabel grimaced. Michael nodded. "You need to get off of them. Why don't you go put the clothes on that I had out earlier and then you can get off of them." Isabel was about to enter the bathroom when she turned. "Michael, I'm not going to get over this anytime soon am I?" "No, but like I said, it will get easier. Not the killing, but the pain. What you need now though is to try and sleep. I know you think you can't, but you need to try. I'll even make you some tea," Michael told her. Isabel shook her head. "No. I keep seeing her face...what happened." "Isabel, you're not a bad person. Just keep telling yourself that you protected us all when you killed her. If you don't....you'll go crazy. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to see you do that," Michael told her. His words made Isabel nod before going to change. Isabel groaned at the sight of the bruises on her body. She would be sore tomorrow she knew. She felt a bit better after talking to Michael, but she was still scared. After all she was this Vilandra, a traitor who betrayed her family if Whitaker was to be believed. She couldn't bring herself to tell Max and Michael about that yet. She needed to figure that out on her own. Right now she could only deal with one problem at a time. She slowly put the clothes on Michael had left for her and headed back out to Michael. Michael eyed his clothes hanging loosely on Isabel as he handed her a cup of hot tea. "This will make you sleepy, " he told her. "I'm not sleeping, Michael," said Isabel adamantly as she sipped the tea. "Will you sleep if I lay down with you? You know, keep the dreams at bay," said Michael as he sipped his own drink. Isabel looked at him and finally nodded. "I can try, but no promises," she said as she tried to squelch a yawn. All of a sudden she was so tired. Michael took her hand and led her to the bed and then took her cup from her. While she climbed in the bed he put the cups on the worn nightstand. Michael sighed as he unbuttoned the buttons on his shirt and took it off along with his shoes before sliding under the sheets with his jeans and socks on. Isabel lay her head on his chest and felt the gentle rhythm of his breathing. "I think I can hear your heart beating," she whispered sleepily. He smiled at that, as he yawned himself and put his arms around her. She sounded more normal. Not so strained. "Go to sleep, Isabel." Though she fought it, Isabel's eyes closed and soon she was asleep with Michael close behind. Her last thought was that she was glad she had Michael to take care of her. End