Disclaimer: Don’t own em. That’d be Katims and Metz. If I could I would have absconded long ago with Michael and Liz that they might find true happiness, but alas I must only ponder the possibilities and sift through the rubble Katims left in his wake.
Spoilers: Through Graduation.
Summary: The road after graduation refused to run smoothly, leaving broken hearts and shattered spirits scattered in its wake. Can Michael and Liz learn that sometimes a wrong turn in hell can lead to sanctuary?
Warning: If you are a Max or Maria lover, look away. I’ve been somewhat tame with them in my other fics, but something inside me needs to exorcize the dislike I had for their characters come the end of Season 3. So if that sort of thing bothers you, for the love of Buddha don’t read any further.
Dedications: To Linsey who was a muse and sounding board all in one. For Tammi who always encourages me and for the help you’ve given an no doubt will continue to give. And for Mandie, who keeps my enthusiasm for writing and challenging myself going. Without all of your encouragement this never would have gotten written (So now people know who to blame if they don’t like it. )
Extreme Warning!!!!- This fic contains a fairly graphic RAPE scene. It you are at all sensitive to this or do not want to read it, please, please, please DO NOT either read the scene or this fic. I will put up a warning on the chapter with the scene and it can be skipped without missing much. But I honestly DO NOT want anyone offended by this. So please heed this warning seriously! Thank you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 1
An old blue Volkswagen van made its way down yet another stretch of road. Highway? Route Whatever. Destination? Nowhere.
Its occupants a once strong six, were now whittled down to weak and battered four. The two years on the road and the all too brief pit stops in one town or another, proving too much for Kyle and Isabel. Not to mention every new implosion occurring to the once unified group, with every new mile logged onto the van’s odometer.
~*~
“I called Jesse the other day, Liz. Things are going really well at his law firm. He bought a house in Boston. Says its ready for me to come home to. Work my magic on.”
“Go.”
“What?”
“Go. There’s nothing here but more greasy truck stop food and dead end jobs. Its obvious you want to leave and you shouldn’t have to stay.”
“Max...”
“You let me deal with Max. You deserve some happiness, Isabel. You and Jesse both. And I already know he sent you a plane ticket. When do you leave?”
“Liz, how did you...? Never mind. Its an open ended ticket. I just have to give twenty-four hours notice. I should know better. Its not like its easy to keep secrets with this group in such close quarters.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Come again.”
“Nothing.”
“Are you going to be okay, Liz? You seem so sad lately.”
“I just miss home, Isabel. That’s all.”
“Me too.”
“But now you have a real chance to make a new one, with Jesse. Don’t squander it.”
“I won’t.... Thanks Liz.”
~*~
Liz didn’t get the same goodbye with Kyle. But was far from shocked when he too left their fold. After her conversation with Isabel that night she’d heard Michael and Kyle out by yet another campfire.
~*~
“So, Michael... You hear Isabel’s going to Boston?”
“Yeah, Kyle. She told me this morning. Leaves tonight.”
“Gotta admit, I didn’t think you three would split up, but...”
“Times change. One of us needs to be happy.”
“Yeah... one of us...”
“So when do you leave, Valenti?”
“H-How... Right. Not many secrets in place with no walls.”
“Not even paper thin ones.”
“Um, Isabel said I could, uh... stay with her and Jesse, until I could get a place of my own. Boston doesn’t sound too bad. Colder than Roswell, but... And since I haven’t started crackling yet...I need to be at least sorta close to my own kind.”
“I still can’t get used to you sharing my species. But I get it. No need to justify it to me.”
“Yeah well, that ain’t the only reason I’m going. Can’t take much more of watching Liz be Max’s doormat. Or you being Maria’s. How do you...”
“Its not that bad. We’re all just tired. Tempers flare. We make it work.”
“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, Michael.”
“You’re assuming I sleep.”
“Michael, if its that bad, why do you...”
“We’ve always been honest with each other right, Kyle.”
“Before or after I found out your blood glows a healthy green?”
“Valenti...”
“Sorry. Yeah I’d like to think that why we haven’t killed each other.”
“Bad, is a relative term among this group. Bad, is getting caught and diced into fine pieces by the government. Putting up with petty squabbles, the griping and whining... its tolerable.”
“Because you love Maria?”
“Because it beats being alone.”
“You put up with too much. I think even Amy would...”
“Amy loves her daughter and is probably pissed at me for taking her away. What Maria does to aggravate me is the least of her worries.”
“But Michael...”
“What is this, Kyle? A last minute relationship intervention? Can’t we just shake hands say goodbye and wish each other a nice life?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“What I want doesn’t matter. If I don’t see ya, have a good life Valenti.”
“Thanks Michael.”
“Hey, don’t you wanna wish me one too?”
“I do... But I’ve seen the way you live.”
~*~
Liz stared out the window from the passenger seat, eyes hollow with exhaustion, her body curled up in a tight ball, knees hugged to her chest. It all looked the same. From Texas to Tennessee. In the beginning it all seemed so magical and romantic. The purple of the mountains and the fresh cool air that came from its peaks. Even the deserts were different and new. Different color sands and scrub brushes for miles. The farm fields smelled fresh and went on for miles with their vibrant greens or soft browns swaying in the breeze.
Now two years later, it all seemed monotonous and felt nowhere near like home. The sun felt too hot. The clouds brought a chill. Even the clear blue sky seemed have a peculiar brightness to it, like it would hurt their eyes to look at it. Some of the same roads that once held such infinite beauty now seemed overexposed. Barren. Leaving its secrets bare to the elements.
Liz turned her head from the blurry green and brown scenery of Portland...Maine or Oregon, she lost track. She looked around again. Had to be Maine. She couldn’t bring herself to care. Northeast or Northwest, either way they were never really home.
She looked back to see Maria stretched out on the bench seat of the van, a warn pillow under her head as she slept. Her body moved slightly as they hit a small bump in the road and she murmured to herself, lulling her consciousness back into slumber. Peaceful.
Seems that was the only time Maria found any peace, was in sleep. In the two summers since they left Roswell, the land had not only been skewed by bitterness and regret, but so had souls. The once vibrant and energetic songbird had become a bitter and angry young woman. Regret lacing her every movement at the life she knew she gave up, merely because she didn’t want to be left behind.
A rustling of papers next to her best friend, drew Liz’s attention to her dark haired fiancee. He had about a dozen road maps spread all over the floor of the van. Max. Liz wished she could say that the couple years on the road had caused the loss of his innocence, but it had been gone long before they put one mile on the van. His was lost in the rubble of an explosion, where the mother of his child had sacrificed her life for their son’s. It was lost in that last kiss to Zan’s forehead before sending him off to be adopted.
Liz thought that the time spent on the road would bring them closer together, make their bond stronger, their love grow deeper. So fucking naive. All it had done was harden the shell that formed on her heart the second she’d heard he’d created a life with Tess. Now she felt so hard that she wasn’t sure Max could ever reach her again. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted him to. But where else could she go?
She blinked when he ran his hand over his stubbled face and his brow furrowed. His teeth clenched around a red pen. Mapping out their next path, looking for their next temporary home. The once King of Antar, now relegated to King of the Road.
~*~
“Liz, I found us a church, minister ready to marry us. Its perfect, small...just like you want. It’s a little outside of Galveston. We can get married in the morning.”
“Max, I just...”
“Liz...I thought you wanted to get married.”
“I do...Its just... Maybe we should wait until we’re settled. Find a place where we can live our lives and not worry about who’s knocking on the door. Please?”
“Yeah... I mean... I really want us to be married...I promised you... But if its what you want... I guess you’re right. The road is no place to start our lives together...raise a family.”
“ Family. Right. When we’re settled... Maybe...”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe then we’ll be ready.”
“I though you wanted children, Liz.”
“Times change, Max. So do people. We’re too young right now... Lets just take it one day at a time. Okay?”
“Okay... but the second we settle down, Liz... We’re getting married.”
“Sure, Max”
~*~
The road curved slightly and Liz shifted in her seat. Her gaze once again shifted, this time to the large hands gripping the wheel of the van, guiding them methodically along each twist and turn on their monotonous journey. Such, large strong and capable hands, even now. Even after all this time.
Her eyes traveled over once pale arms, now tan with days spent in the sun, earning money in various odd jobs to keep them fed, clothed and sheltered. He’d never been a stranger to hard work, even in the good old days, but the work had never been such a welcome distraction.
His hair, lighter now, from his outdoor labor, was still long, even longer now that hair cuts were a luxury money couldn’t afford. It curled loosely around his face, unable to find direction, still wild and untamed. Some things never changed and that brought her small comfort. It was in the little things where she found the most solace. The was something soothing about the way his hair hung in those soft waves on his broad shoulders.
And while he seemed to be the most consistent of them all, Liz found his retreat into himself unnerving. It wasn’t as though she’d never seen him walled up. Hell when they first got to really know each other he was nothing but a stone wall. Took pride in it. But now, eyes that had been softened by time, compassion and love were steeled and cold once more. Betraying nothing as to what was going on inside him.
The boy that had forsaken his king to help her uncover the mystery behind Alex’s death, had reverted to the hard, suspicious, guarded nature a childhood spent with Hank had instilled in him. And Liz allowed her heart to weep for that tragedy. He was always difficult to get along with, but he had his moments, and ones to be cherished. But now... he was just hard.
They say eyes are the window to the soul. And to a point it was true. She could read nearly every emotion that passed through Max and Maria’s eyes, but never Michael. They stared at her with a cold indifference, that is when he ventured to look at her at all. He was a puzzle. One that hurt to put together, but she was getting there.
Since she couldn’t read his eyes, she taken these brief moments, when his focus was on the road, to study his face. He gave a lot away with the clenching of a jaw, the tightening to teeth across lips or a smirk. A smirk. The closest thing to a smile he registered nowadays and those were less and less as the miles ticked by. What she wouldn’t give to see him smirk just once now. It was contagious.
As if reading her thought, she saw his mouth curve slightly. He smirked? What could have possibly slipped through that steely exterior to even cause him slight amusement? Was it a miracle? Put in a call to Rome. The Pope had to see this one.
“You need a notepad, Dr. Parker?” Michael asked dryly.
Liz snapped out her scrutiny of his features realizing she’d been staring too long at him, “What?”
“I’m just wondering if you needed to take notes on whatever experiment I’ve become.” he replied rolling his eyes.
Liz returned the gesture with her eyes, “And here I thought ‘experiment’ was curse word around you aliens.”
“Whatever.” Michael grumbled, “Just stop staring at me.”
“Sorry.” Liz sighed, too tired too argue, “I didn’t mean to unnerve you so much.”
“You didn’t.” Michael said quickly, “It just I don’t like people trying to figure me out. It’s a waste of time.”
“I wasn’t...” Liz sat up straighter, suddenly finding the energy to argue. Yeah it was a lie. She was trying to figure him out, but he didn’t have to call her on it.
“Yeah you were. And there’s nothing to figure out, so drop it and quit staring.” he stared straight ahead at the road. She couldn’t help but watch his jaw flex. She had unnerved him He was worried she’d get him. Why did that scare him so much?
“Gee Mikey. You gonna tell Dad.” Liz returned sarcastically, her eyes darting unconsciously back to Max.
Yeah it was childish, but she wasn’t above it and to be honest, their bickering actually kept her on her toes. Gave her a challenge. Life was fucking grand if pissing contests with Michael Guerin had become a source of stimulating brain activity. She knew he enjoyed them too. Arguments with Maria had stop becoming amusing. They were personal. Hurtful. Angry.
It happened again. He smirked, this time a small chuckle escaping his throat and tumbling over his lips, “Don’t make me pull this car over.”
“And do what exactly?” Liz folded her arms, in mimic of Michael’s favorite stance, “Turn me over your knee?”
“Kinky Parker, but wouldn’t Max get jealous?”
Liz glanced back at Max , who was still buried in deep thought plotting their course, “You’re assuming he’d notice.”
“Well, you can file that little fantasy under ‘Never Gonna Happen’ anyway. I’m not into S&M.” Michael shook his head.
“Coulda fooled me.” Liz grumbled, ignoring the look of warning Michael had shot her.
“You must be confusing me with pierced freak known as my dupe. That fucker looked like he was into some serious bondage.”
“So then your threat to pull this car over is moot.” Liz argued, “What could you really do to me?”
Michael shot her an icy glare. At what point had he stopped becoming intimidating to her? Liz’s eyes widened in mock fear and she gasped dramatically, “Oh no! Not...Not... ‘The Guerin Glare!’” She shielded her eyes, “Anything but that! No! Stop! Please someone help me.... Michael’s gonna stare me to death! Oh the humanity!”
Liz found herself laughing despite Michael’s obvious annoyance with her, “That never worked on me Michael and you know it.”
She watched his jaw clench and his knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. Too far? “Shouldn't you be lost in your silly ideal of perfection with Maxwell? I'm a little too real for your tastes.” he bit out.
She physically grimaced at his tone, but straightened, taking it for what it was, Michael putting up his wall. She’d reminded him that the defense he put on, didn’t work with everyone.
“Are you sure you should be driving?” she spat, “I only ask because your head seems to be crammed so far up your ass it must be difficult to see the road.”
“Leave my ass out of our disagreement.” he quirked an eyebrow at her.”What’s wrong? Truth hurt?”
“You tell me.” she returned watching his whole body stiffen. Match point to Parker.
“Will you two knock it off!” Max growled, crawling between them with a map in his hands, “I swear it’s like being on a road trip with children. Can’t you two be even remotely civil?”
“Hey, she brought my ass into it?” Michael replied.
Liz caught his smirk again. Time for their unspoken favorite game. Rile Max. One of the only remaining times she and Michael ever worked as a team.
“What ass? You’re pants are so baggy I’m beginning to doubt you even have an one.” Liz observed.
“Funny.” Michael shook his head, “I was about to say the same thing about your tits.”
Liz sat back in feigned shock. She might have been offended if it hadn’t been the millionth time Michael had made fun of her nonexistent breasts, “Oh by the way Michael, at that last rest stop, one of the truckers pulled me aside and asked me if your mouth was as pretty as your hair.”
Michael opened his mouth to reply, but Max held up his hands, “Jesus Michael, she went for the hair... This could get nasty.”
“You’re right.” Michael nodded, “She’ll start on your ears next.”
Liz clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter when she saw the tips of said ears redden with anger. Michael turned his focus back to the road confident that he’d won at least one battle.
“If we’re done with the games...” Max grumbled, “I think I have a place for us to stay tonight.”
“What do you think, Michael?” Liz asked, her only amusement in their stops was guessing the level of their crappiness, “ Rest Stop Oasis. Or RV Paradise?”
“Maybe we’ll be lucky and he’ll spring for the Guess the Stain Motel.”
“Oh good one.” Liz gave him a quiet golf clap.
Michael bowed his head, “I try.”
“Oh you two are just fucking hilarious.” Max griped, “I try to find us shelter and you make jokes. Maybe you should go on the road...” he paused, “Wait. We already are. Just do me a favor, shut up and listen.” he leveled a glare at Liz, “Both of you.”
Liz shared a sorrowful glance with Michael and turned her attention back out to the blurry scenery, tightening herself back into a ball as Max carried on about their new destination. Playtime was over. So decreed the king.
~*~
TBC?
Last edited by Peachykin on Sun Nov 13, 2005 1:13 am, edited 3 times in total.
It had turned out that Max hadn’t found a rest stop, RV park, or a dirty motel to stay in. No he’d found them a nice woodsy campground. Pristine with its turning leaves, well groomed designated areas, a firepit and barbeque to every spot. Right out of Wood Lover’s Magazine. But all it meant to Michael was sleeping on dirt, drowning out the plethora of annoying creature sounds, not to mention the woodland variety, and scrubbing bird shit off the van every day.
“Break out your marshmallows kids. We’re sleeping under the stars tonight.” Max joked as they pulled into the Soaring Eagle Campground.
Michael rolled his eyes over at Liz, who seemed to be sharing his disdain. He didn’t understand how Max could still get amped about camping. Maybe it was all the nights with a rock lodged in his back or the fact that camping for Michael meant a shivering night in the desert when Hank was drunk. Whatever the reason, it held no magic. Ever.
Hank. The son of a bitch was years dead now and he still plagued Michael’s thoughts. Although he was a bit surprised to be finding wisdom in some of the assholes’s slurred tirades.
“Mickey... Fuck school. Be a bartender. Only fucking thing you’re good at.”
Bastard was right. From a straight shot of Jack to a Sex on the Beach, Hank Guerin’s boy could hook you up real nice and keep it coming. If there was one thing Michael knew it was drunks and how to keep them numb, how to keep them so liquored up they stayed quiet, envying them their anesthetic to the world’s troubles.
“Aim low Mickey. That way when you get fucked, it won’t feel so bad.”
Again the fucker nailed it. All the heartbreaks. Hardships. Hazards the road had brought. He’d forgotten that, when things were good with Maria. When he’d felt loved. Accepted. For those five brief minutes in time.
Ah Maria. She never should have come. Sure she kept him from lonely nights in those first few months. But they never were about love, or hell by the time they’d left, it wasn’t even about romance. Some stupid need to not be alone. Max said he envied their fire. But fire burns out. And in his and Maria’s case reality was just the cold bucket of water to help it along.
In the first months on the run Michael bullshitted himself into believing Maria had come for love.. That “being together” was all that mattered. But for her, it wasn’t enough. Never was. She wanted what Max and Liz had. Which quite frankly was probably more fucked up than what they shared. Not that Maria could see it. Fucking romantic blinders.
The truth was, Maria was afraid to be left behind. Left out. If she’d stayed back in Roswell she might have had a life worth leading. Pursuing those dreams she’d dumped him for earlier that year. But no, couldn’t just let this adventure go on without her presence. Like they’d all just fade away without her. Once she took that first mile in the van... she couldn’t go back. And Michael paid for it. Daily.
He’d told Kyle that Maria’s tantrums and their constant arguments were “tolerable”, because “it beat being alone”. But he felt more alone now than he did those years in Hank’s trailer. Distant. Removed. She’d been his peace at some point in life. Now? Now he couldn’t even close his eyes and remember what she was like before. How her voice touched his battered soul. Tamed him. Now all her anger and resentment for a life she chose to join, seemed to be the only thing left she had for him.
She could leave. Start a new life. Fuck knows he’d screamed at her to leave during their many arguments, but she always stayed. Said her world didn’t make sense without him in it. Bullshit. She was scared, because letting go meant losing control over what she’d created for herself. He’d let her do that. The once great warrior, a giant fucking pacifist when it came to her.
Max in a vain attempt to mold his second into a larger version of himself, saw fit to bestow relationship advice on his brother. Told Michael to be more open. Screw that. He’d done the open thing and now look where he was. On the road, completely alone among his family. Emerald pools giving way to red rage with a flippant remark. Thank God for stone walls.
Max. The nomadic king. Doe-eyed ruler. Optimistic freak. The road had made him angrier. Bossier. If that was possible. Things weren’t working out the way he’d planned. Michael had seen the excitement in his brother’s eyes at exploring the world with the love of his life, the valiant Miss Elizabeth Parker, by his side. But the romance of such an adventure quickly died after Liz had postponed their marriage.
~*~ “So what time do we have to be at the church, Maxwell? And just a warning, I’m not wearing a tie.”
“There isn’t going to be a wedding?”
“Liz turned you down? Holy shit! Did we take the wrong exit and turn off at the Twilight Zone?”
“She didn’t turn me down, Michael. She just wants to wait...until we’re more settled.”
“She said no, right? That's a turn down.”
“She never said ‘No’. Just, ‘not right now’. And try not to sound so happy about it.”
“Happy? I'm not happy Maxwell. None of us are.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I thought...maybe this would cheer her up...All of us.”
“By making her marry you while we're on the run? That's a great plan fearless leader.”
“I’m not making her do anything, Michael. If I did we’d already be married.”
“You really think you would be? Because I don't. It seems to me that Liz handed you an excuse, that she has no intention of marrying you.”
“You don’t know a fucking thing about Liz! Don’t pretend you do now!”
“The Liz who lets you walk on her? No. The one that just turned you down? Yeah. That's who I know.”
“How?”
Because, unlike you, I don't have her up on some impossible pedestal of perfection. Liz is a person with her own mind and her own opinions. And it seems that her opinion of you is pretty low, Maxwell.”
“Since when do you care about her enough to know she has a mind?”
“I don’t care, Maxwell. I mean the only time I notice really is when she’s not busy absorbing your crap. Half the time you two share the same fucking brain. How does that work? You get it during the week and she gets to be the weekend host? I’m just providing you with insight. Not like you’ll listen anyway. Not what you want to hear.”
“Try me.”
“Fine. We're pretty much screwed, no matter what. So why would Liz want to marry you when we could be caught and dissected any minute? Kind of takes the romance out of the relationship. Much like living in a fucking VW van.”
“But we promised to live each day as our if it were our last...”
“That's because it could be, Maxwell. Ain’t it just fucking romantic?”
“But we need that among all this...”
“Could you stop living in denial? Our lives aren't safe! We're on the run with the FBI hot on our trail! The last thing that we need is a wedding to draw attention to ourselves! If you can't see that... then I'm glad at least Parker can.”
~*~
It was one of the rare occasions Liz had managed to show a spine and Michael was grateful. Kept him from being the world’s largest, and ugliest flower girl at some quaint little country churches ripped straight out of the pages Country Living magazine.
Maybe he had been harsh that day, but Max had his head in the God damn clouds and that was one sure fire way to get shot. His cynicism kept them alive. Breathing. Heart beating. Functioning. But far from living.
Liz. She was supposed to be simple. He was supposed to hate her. Resent her involvement in their lives. Knew for a fact their lives would have been better of if she’d died that day... But she did live. And push as he did, Michael couldn’t picture the journey without her. Whether that was good or bad he didn’t want to ponder or care about. So, as with all troubles Guerin, he carefully tucked it into his collection of issue bottles to ferment, and bricking it up with the mortar of his soul. Don’t burst. Not that one.
Time and fatigue aged Liz somewhat, but not so much that she was hard to look at. Her hair was still long and dark, with sun streaks that managed to occasion brighten her sullen features. Her skin was much darker, making her look more exotic. Some distant Hispanic relative, she’d told him once, when he’d ventured to care about her lineage. Her father’s side. Whatever. It worked on her. If you were into that sort of thing.
And while he’d fry his own ass for admitting it to himself, Michael found himself fascinated by Liz‘s eyes. You could read her exact mood depending on the flicker of her eyes. Defeat was more often read in their dark depths now, but there were moments, too few, where they were feisty, happy, full. But then they’d give way to sadness, misery and surrender. It was no huge mystery as to why.
Kyle was right. She was a doormat for Max. So Michael took it upon himself to pick fights with her. Make sure that Parker flare was still there. That fiery little girl who’d stared him down in an alley, warned him about Topolsky, sought out Alex’s killer and prevented them from a certain death... the list could go on. And yet she was the same woman who took Max back after he’d slept with Tess, treated her like shit and pissed on her dreams. The girl who’d never seemed to be intimidated by him, cowered before her lover. His brother. Liz had been a fighter, still had some left in her, but with every battle Michael saw her forfiet to Max, a little of his respect for Liz Parker waned. And it pissed him off.
Liz was a puzzle. One that often hurt to try and piece together, but also one that gave him a sense of comfort. Challenge.
Not that he’d ever let her know that. Nope. He’d let far too many people in as it was. Only to let them trample on his heart or abandon him. Not that he could ever blame Kyle and Isabel. They had chances at normal lives. They admitted they couldn’t handle the destruction of souls going on around them. They had choices. They didn’t have to stay and protect.
“Stop Michael!” Max barked, forcing Michael from his thoughts, causing him to slam his Doc Marten clad foot on the brake harshly.
Every one was jarred forward Max catching himself on the dashboard as Liz braced herself on against the door. A loud thump and an “Ow!” could be heard from the backseat as Maria’s slumber had been interrupted when her body was thrown to the floor by Michael’s abrupt stop.
“What the...” she grumbled sleepily, trying to sit up and get her bearings.
Max gestured sheepishly at the open camping spot next to them, “We’re here.” he glanced down at the ticket the ranger had given him, “Spot 15.”
Before anyone could exact physical retribution for his over dramatic call of attention to their destination, Max scurried to the back of the van stepping over Maria’s still groggy form, to dig the tent out of the trunk.
“Jesus.” Michael sighed deeply, “And I thought Maria was a fucking drama queen.”
“Um. Drama queen is awake back here.” Maria sang out. “And a simple nudge would have sufficed.”
“Ah but them you wouldn’t have had the chance to defend your royal title.” Liz winked over at Michael, earning a smirk.
Michael threw the van into reverse and backed into the spacious area, as Max called out from the back, “Ranger said because it’s the middle of the week we won’t have anyone on either side of us until the weekend.”
“Great. So we’ll only annoy each other.” Michael muttered.
He heard Liz giggle under her breath caught her stiffen out of the corner of his eye when Max’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, “Do we want the tent or the van?”
“Um...” she twisted the gold band on her left finger, the diamond long since pawned for food, clothes and gas, “I don’t care, Max. You decide.”
Max smiled, “Ranger said its supposed to be clear for the next few days. How bout we sleep by the campfire, under the stars?”
“And did Ranger tell you which way the wind was blowing so you wouldn’t choke on the smoke?” Michael asked in mock amusement.
Max glared over at Michael mumbling, “Northeast.”
Michael rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but Liz cut him off, “By the campfire is fine, Max. I’ll just help Michael set up the tent for he and Maria.”
“Michael gets the lumpy side.” Maria yawned, searching the messy area for her duffle bag.
“Don’t I always?” Michael asked, bitterness tingeing his voice.
As he opened the driver’s side door to get out, he felt an open hand meet the back of his head the, the slap ringing in his ears, “Whatever moron gave you your license, Spaceboy, should be shot. Repeatedly.” Maria grumbled.
“Ask them to save a bullet for me.” Michael muttered, rubbing his stinging scalp.
He met Liz on her side of the van to scout a decent, flat looking piece of ground to pitch his temporary palace...or dungeon, depending on Maria’s mood, which given its current state...wasn’t promising.
Liz pointed to an area just behind where Max was setting down the tarp to lay beneath their sleeping bag, a few feet from the fire pit. It had a mass of newly fallen leaves that she thought might provide a cushion between Michael’s back and the rocks beneath.
“Think of it as nature’s mattress.” she explained.
“Don’t you think that’s a little close to you and Max. I already know enough about you, Parker. Your various mating sounds aren’t exactly...”
Liz glared, “Then go sleep in the woods Michael. Although I’d be careful. I hear its mating season for the wolves... and you have such a pretty mane. Michael Guerin: Wolf Bitch. Next time on Wild America.”
Michael sighed, too tired to argue, and a little impressed. That had been one of her better returns. He set down the bag and began pulling out the stakes and tent material.
He felt Maria’s presence behind him, her foot tapping in inspection, “Wow not bad, Spaceboy. Might actually be able to sleep here.”
“Yeah. Well, I thought the leaves would be like a mattress.” he replied, hearing Liz grunt her dissatisfaction at him taking credit for her idea. Whatever.
He and Liz actually managed to erect the tent in a matter of minutes. Had it down to science by now. No powers necessary. Maria tossed in her duffel bag and rolled out her sleeping bag crawling inside to rest.
“Work up a sweat did you?” Michael asked poking his head inside, “You know we still have to unload a bunch of stuff , Maria and you’ve been asleep since...”
Maria sat up shoving Michael backwards on his ass, zipping up the tent after throwing him a heated glare. Michael shook his head. It was same thing at every stop. Why should this place be any different? He saw a small hand appear in front his face offering him help up and looked up at Liz, a small bundle of kindling, tucked under one arm. Sympathy etched on her brow. Fuck that.
Michael brushed her hand away and pushed himself off the ground, dusting off his backside and striding past the petite girl to retrieve the portable stove. Pity was not something he wanted needed, or desired. Dignity. Now if she was handing that out, he’d take an arm full.
Twenty minutes later they had their camp set up. Max stood back surveying the space as though a king inspecting his palace.
“We need water.” he finally said, just as Michael stretched himself out on the picnic table, Liz seating herself on the bench next to him.
“Right you are Moses. Plan on getting that anytime soon?” Michael asked crossing one boot over the other in an effort to get more comfortable.
“I saw a pump on the way in over by the ranger station. It isn’t far.” Liz said told Max, “You and I could take a couple buckets. We could pick up a paper, start looking at the want ads. And I think I saw a payphone. I could call Mom and Dad. Check in with them.”
Max’s stance changed, and his brow furrowed further. He shook his head, “Liz you just talked to them last month. And you know using a pay phone is risky. The FBI could trace it if you stay on too long.”
Michael turned his head, watching Liz’s shoulders sag and her head sink further into her chest, “I don’t think a couple minutes would kill us Max.” he said.
“Yeah, Michael it could.” Max snapped, “You know that better than anyone. Mr. Paranoia and all. Liz understands. Don’t you?”
Come on Parker. Fight back.. Take one of those kindling pieces and shove it up his ass. Two minutes to tell your parents you love them wouldn’t be risky.
Michael watched in dismay as Liz slowly nodded her head. Wow. New record for caving. Not even one word in argument. Was this the same woman who not more than hour earlier had called him a “Wolf Bitch”?
“Fine.” she sighed, making at least her disappointment with Max evident in her voice. “I’ll get the paper while you and Michael get the water.”
Michael turned his head, in part because she’d managed to volunteer him for yet another chore, when all he wanted to do was nod off on the table after driving all those hours. The other part heard the lilt in her voice. Mischief. Oh...She was good.
She’d get the paper all right. Which would take all of five seconds. And with Max distracted she’d have time to make that phone call undetected. She knew how futile it was to argue with Max once he’d made his wishes known. That’s why she’d given in so easily. Nice. Sneaky even.
“Crafty.” Michael whispered with a smirk, Liz turning her head eyes begging him not to clue Max in. He waved an idle hand at her letting her know he wasn’t going to spill the beans. At least she had a family to call. To miss her.
Michael turned his head. Max had been quiet for too long. He had one arm crossed over his waist and the other pinching the bridge of his nose. Michael was fairly certain the smoke he was smelling wasn’t from a campfire down the road. Max was thinking. Or more like catching up.
Michael’s attention turned to Liz, who’d pulled her bottom lip between her teeth in anticipation. Waiting for God damn permission. Christ, this girl needed a lesson in poker faces. She was giving herself away.
Max shook his head, “No...” he drew out the word, gaining in confidence as it ended, “I’ll get the paper. You and Michael get the water.”
Liz visibly sank, her whole body speaking volumes as to the state of her heart. Broken. Asshole.
To his surprise Liz straightened her shoulders and he watched her eyes narrow at Max, “Yeah that makes a ton of sense Max. I’m no wimp, but it takes us twice as long to bring the water back when I go. Its physics. Two strong boys...”
“Hey...” Michael called out as if offended.
Liz rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the smirk., “Ugh. Sorry. One boy and his wolf bitch are far stronger than a wolf bitch and little old me.” She turned to Michael and batted her eyes, “That better?”
“Much.” Michael smirked letting out an amused howl.
“I know Liz.” Max said gently, approaching her and placing his hands on each of her shoulders, “Just humor me. Please?”
She rose from her place on the bench. Michael couldn’t read her eyes but he could tell by her rigid stance, that Max’s speaking to her as if she were mentally retarded, hadn’t earned His Highness any points.
“Let’s go, Wolfy.” Liz growled.
“Liz...” Max whined as she side stepped him grabbing a bucket.
Michael hopped off the table reaching for his bucket. He felt Max’s hand on his chest as he moved to catch up with Liz.
“You know why I sent her to get water.” he said looking for back up.
“Yeah Max. I do.” Michael nodded, “And I think its fucked up.”
“Michael.” Max said sharply in admonishment.
“Sorry Chief. You heard the lady.” Michael shrugged his shoulders, taking long strides to catch up with the fiery Miss Parker. Small victories were all that was left.
~*~
Michael watched Liz pump the water into her bucket with a quiet ferocity. Taking out her obvious aggression on the metal and water. Focused. Determined. And yet completely misdirected. It wasn’t until her bucket overflowed and spilled onto her tennis shoes that she stopped.
“Shit.” she hissed shaking her foot of the excess water. She looked up at him and glared, “Don’t. Say. A. Word.”
Michael held his hands up. He knew when not to tangle with Parker. He was quiet. Not dumb. He grabbed the full bucket away from the pump and set it aside. Liz swiped up the empty bucket at his feet and resumed her angry pumping.
“Why do you let him do that?” Michael broke through the silence. He admitted it. Curiosity, or stupidity, got the better of him.
"Do what?” she panted, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her brow from her exertions, “Have him ask me to defy physics?"
“You know what I mean, Parker. It's your right to call your parents so why didn't you fight back when he made his ‘decree’?”
She stopped pumping, but still stared at the faucet, “I’m tired.”
“Tired? Or spineless.”
“Glass houses, Michael.” she spat in warning.
He stiffened, “We’re not talking about me.”
Liz rolled her eyes and continued pumping, “Yeah, because heaven forbid you should actually take a look at your own healthy relationship.”
He ignored her last barb and pressed on, “He doesn’t want you calling Mom and Pop, because he wants to cut all your ties to home. So you have to make one with him. That ringing any bells, Parker?”
“Loud and clear, Michael.”
"Is it? Or are you too tired to acknowledge that I'm right?" he challenged.
Liz stopped pumping again seeing the bucket was full. She wiped the sweat from her brow and faced Michael, her eyes closed in fatigue.“Just tired, Michael. Drop it. You don’t care anyway.”
Michael’s jaw clenched. She had a point,. He was wasting his breath. “You're right, I don't. I just think that it's sickening.”
“So take an Alka Seltzer.” she said opening her eyes. No emotion. Just exhaustion.
"If I could, I would but given my experience with alcohol I don't think it would help."
“Then I can’t help you, Michael.”
Michael ran a frustrated hand over his face, “I'm not expecting you to because you can't even help yourself.”
He grabbed the two full buckets barely feeling their weight for the anger and frustration that coursed through him. He shouldn’t give a fuck about why Liz Parker submitted to Max’s every whim. So why the fuck was he so angry about it?
~*~
Maria had managed to crawl out of the tent when Max got back with the paper, calling out various jobs from the classifieds. It was times like these when they really missed Kyle’s skills. As the mechanic of the group he usually raked in the most money. Michael was good with engines, but only just enough to keep the van running past its limits.
Michael had resumed his spot on the picnic table upon returning from the water gathering with Liz. She sat herself in a folding chair by the non existent fire, staring into the previous occupants ashes. Max had tried to offer the olive branch of open arms and puppy eyes when she’d shuffled back to camp, but she merely continued with her journey to the chair, refusing to meet his eyes only letting them drift once over to Michael. Her gaze narrowed as they met his and he shook his head staring back up at the trees.
“Temporary landscaper.” Maria read out, “Must have green thumb... Does green blood count, because that could apply to both you and Michael.”
“You know that gets funnier every time I hear it, Maria.” Michael said dryly, “Max, you take that one. I don’t feel like getting up early and working on my tan.”
“Oh Liz you lucky duck.” Maria whined, “They’re hiring a receptionist too. Answering phones. Setting appointments. Light typing. Decent hours. In an air conditioned office.”
Liz just nodded slowly as she stared into the ashes, “Sounds...great.” she whispered.
Michael caught her less than thrilled tone. Not only did she get to come home to Max at night, she’d be with him for some of the day. Max had that goofy grin on his face at fate conspiring them to be closer. Open your eyes moron.
“There anything about a bartender in there?” Michael asked, needing to change the thoughts in his own mind.
Maria glared at Michael and then returned to scanning the ads. A high pitched groan escaped her lips, “Yes. Bartender and waitress wanted at German restaurant. Must have flexible hours. Call 555-4626. Michael... I can’t take another smoky bar with greasy patrons and lousy tips. Can’t we do something else?”
“You do something else. I’ll do the bar thing.” he shook his head, “Wasn’t it your dream to be discovered in a smoky bar...”
“Yeah. Singing. Not slinging drinks and Goober and Cletis.” she grumbled.
Michael caught movement out of the corner of his eye and a dark brown blur strode past him. Suddenly the paper was snatched from Maria’s hands, “You take the receptionist job. I’ll do waitress thing. I can live without air conditioning.” Liz growled.
“Liz...” Max rose from his place on the picnic bench, confusion and disappointment clearly read on his face.
Maria’s eyes widened, “Oh Chica. Are you sure? I mean...”
“Yeah I’m sure, Maria.” Liz sighed.
“You sure you can handle working with Space Jerk over there?” Maria asked her eyes darting over to Michael who’d found himself sitting up.
“Yeah.” Liz shrugged her shoulders at Michael, before casting her glance to Max, “Probably best I not be around sharp objects for a little while.”
Maria jumped out of her chair hugging Liz fiercely, “You redefine the word friend, chica! I love you. I love you. I love you.”
“Its just a job, Maria. Not like I’m a stranger to these joints anyway.” she said holding the ecstatic girl back a bit.
Maria squealed again and gave Liz one last hug before hopping up to seat herself next to Michael, linking her arm in his. He tensed, but smiled down at the beaming girl. His focus not on her, but the scene before him as Max approached Liz, that wounded look still in his eyes.
“I don’t understand Liz. I thought you’d want to work together...” Max said placing a hand on Liz’s shoulder trying to get her to look at him.
Liz met his eyes and even Michael shivered at the iciness in them. He nearly rubbed his hands together and could practically hear the cocking of Liz loading both barrels at Max. Bout goddamn time Parker.
He was met with bitter disappointment when he say the iciness melt, “Yeah well Maria really needs a break from waitressing and I don’t mind doing it. Its no big deal.”
Michael couldn’t hold back the snort, stopping short of coughing out a “spineless”. Maria’s smile faded and her arm disentangled from his smacking him on the back of the head. He threw her a glare and pushed off the table.
“You’re sure?” Max asked, far from convinced. He wanted Liz within his sights at all times and now they’d be working completely different schedules. This was not what he’d planned, “I mean its not because you’re mad...about not calling your parents?”
Michael watched Liz’s jaw flex, “You don’t want to ask me that question right now, Max.”
Max winced and Michael fought back the bitter laugh that stuck in his throat. Aww... poor kingy got a slap on the wrist. Boo friggn hoo.
“Liz, I’m not... I wasn’t trying to be hurtful...” Max tried to explain.
Liz held up her hand, “No you never try, Max.” She brought her hand down shaking her head, “I don’t want to have this conversation right now. Its done. You and Maria will take the landscapers, “she turned in Michael’s direction, “Michael and I will take the bar.”
Max nodded reluctantly, knowing Liz couldn’t see him. He approached her again and Michael watched her stiffen as he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing the back of her head, “Okay. But as soon as we can, we’ll find you something better, Liz. You’re too good for those places. Besides...”
Oh Christ here it comes. Michael could recite the next set of words verbatim. He caught Liz’s eyes and nearly smirked as they both mouthed the words as Max spoke them.
“... This could be the place where we settle down. Make our life. Start a family.” Max said, managing to maintain the same wistful tone that always accompanied that speech.
Michael noticed again how Liz had stiffened in Max’s arms with the mention of family. Yeah Max that was real wise. Remind Liz why she would have to start a new family in the first place. Because you won’t let her talk to her own. Transparency thy name is Maxwell.
“Not to break up the dreamfest here gang.” Michael sighed, unconsciously rescuing Liz from yet another set of lofty dreams spilling from Max’s lips, “But we don’t technically have the jobs yet.”
“Right.” Max said, hugging Liz closer to his body, “We should start right away. See if we can start tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” Michael grunted, “So um...Max...do you think you could let go of Parker long enough to, I don’t know, actually call the bar? Or is she just restricted from the phone in general?”
Max dropped his arms away from Liz and threw a warning glance at his brother. He nudged Liz towards Michael without a word. “Yeah we’ll all go.”
“Guess its general restriction.” Michael heard Liz mumble as she fell in step with him..
~*~
“Should I be bothered that they didn’t check my fake ID?” Liz said staring out into the darkness as she and Michael made their way back to the campground in the van.
The job had been a lock since the moment they called. They’d start their shifts the next evening and they just needed Liz to pick up her uniform and fill out some paperwork.
Michael smirked, “They didn’t check mine either Parker.”
“Yeah, “But you’re big and intimidating. Three years ago I couldn’t even get into a friggin casino with a fake id. Guy looked at me like I was some kind of lolita.”
“Technically you were Liz. Seventeen. Trying to get into a bar...”
“So what’s changed? I mean I thought they were supposed to card people under thirty?” She mused, furrowing her brow.
“Fishing for a compliment?” Michael arched an eyebrow at her, “I don’t exactly do that, Parker.”
Liz rolled her eyes, “Please Michael. If I wanted you to compliment me I’d...”
“Stand up to Max?” Michael interrupted.
Liz glared, “No. I’d get the perfect pitch on a righteous belch.”
Michael chuckled, “True. That qualifies as praise worthy. Though I might die of shock at Little Shirley being anything but a lady.”
“Yeah well in this.” she held up the few spartan bits of clothing the bar had given her, “Lady doesn’t apply. I think they take the term bar wench too seriously.”
“You’re just worried you won’t be able to fill out the top.” Michael teased, “Don’t worry Liz. You’re just a late bloomer. You’ll get out of that training...”
“Could we not tonight, Michael?” she interrupted running a hand over her tired eyes, “The status of my tits just isn’t as amusing as usual.”
Michael tightened his lips over his teeth. Yeah he could stop. He saw how tired she was, and while he was always up for a good argument with Liz, he’d already pushed her that afternoon.
They remained quiet until they pulled into the campground. Creeping back into the wooded area at a snail’s pace.
“Um... Thanks for uh taking the job. Maria...” he finally broke the silence.
“I didn’t do it for Maria.”
“I know. Thanks anyway.”
He watched a small smile tease the corners of her mouth. What was it about when he showed gratitude that made chicks smile. He was grateful Liz had taken the job. He couldn’t stand another bout of Maria whining about her feet hurting, handsy patrons, or flirting with some of the bands that played in the dives.
Liz drove him crazy, yeah, but she didn’t complain. She did her job and went home. They actually worked well together, so long as they didn’t talk outside of drink orders.
They pulled into their camp spot seeing Max and Maria sitting on opposite sides of the campfire. Their jobs having to wait until the next morning. Michael switched off the engine and glanced over at Liz, letting out a defeated sigh as Max’s eyes lit up walking towards the van to greet her.
She put her hand on the door to get out when for reason’s unknown to him, Michael stopped her, “You don’t look old, Liz. I just don’t think they were in a place to be picky is all.”
Liz grinned, “There a compliment in there somewhere?” she asked with mild amusement.
Michael shrugged, “Was I not clear?”
Liz tilted her head back letting out a small laugh, it immediately dying as Max opened the door.
~*~
Michael lay wide awake staring up at the dark blue tent material that housed he and Maria. The girl beside him tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable spot.
“Nature’s mattress, my ass Michael.” she grumbled.
Michael shook his head trying to tune out the swish sounds and muttered curses she made. The firelight outside the tent made grand shadows of the trees overhead and Michael narrowed his eyes, making pictures out them in his mind, the luxury of charcoals and a sketch pad long since abandoned.
“Max... Stop...” he heard Liz say in a pleading whisper, the rustle of clothing and their sleeping bag muffling it, “Please... Not tonight.”
Great. His own private Discovery Channel. The mating dance of the clueless and the hopeless.
Michael rolled his eyes as he heard the smacking sounds of Max’s lips on Liz’s neck, “Come on Liz... With our shifts being different...who knows when we’ll get to do this next...Please...You’ve put me off for weeks...”
“I know Max...but I’m just...tired... and you have to get up early.” Liz protested feebly. Whatever happened to the good old fashion headache?
“A few minutes won’t make a difference, Liz... Come on...”
‘A few minutes?’ Christ , now how could a girl resist an offer like that? It was a miracle this boy had managed to bed not one, but two girls in his lifetime.
Michael’s foray into yet another round of inner sarcasm was brutally interrupted when he heard the ripping of clothing and a distinctively female shriek come from the fireside. He sat up abruptly, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Stop Max... I just... I’d rather not do it out here. Four walls... A roof... Privacy.” she insisted, her voice shaking and her breathing labored. Scared.
No. Parker didn’t get scared. Not of Max anyway. Yeah she bent to his every whim, but was never scared. He’d never given her a reason to be. Had he? This was a game right? The innocent woodland babe and the hunter...
“I know I’d sure as hell appreciate it.” Michael called out from the tent, his sarcasm masking his lingering fear at what Max could do to Liz. Just to cover his bases.
He shuddered at thinking his own brother capable of... No. Don’t say it. He wouldn’t. Yeah sure Max been violent in the past, but never sexually. Not that he knew of. No way. That would be a new circle of hell. One he wasn’t prepared to deal with.
“Go to sleep, Michael!” Max’s gritted voice said. Michael strained his ears, sure he could hear Max’s hands gripping the fabric of Liz’s nightshirt.
“Oh shut up Michael.” Maria grumbled next to him, “At least Max is making an effort.”
“‘It’ll only take a few minutes?’ Oh yeah, that’s effort, Maria.” Michael shot back, annoyed. He needed her to shut up, for once. He needed to hear reassurance on the other side of that tent, that Liz was okay. If not...fuck... Be okay, Parker.
“And you wonder why we sleep in separate sleeping bags?” Maria groused.
“If you recall...” Michael grouched, “I’m the one that started that.”
“Just stay out if it, Michael!” Max hissed, his frustration plain.
Another smaller tearing sound came in the wake of his angry utterance and Liz whimpered softly, “No..Max... Stop...”
“All I’m saying is some of us are trying to sleep and you getting turned down all night ain’t helping things along.” Michael barked. That was it one more second and he was gone. Between Maria’s whining and whatever was going on outside that tent, he was on the verge of blowing up.
“Oh just quit whining Michael! Just because Max can get it up for his girlfriend, doesn’t mean you gotta interrupt his groove.” Maria threw her pillow at Michael. “Get out!”
“Its never been issue of function , Maria, but motivation.” Michael bit out, seizing the opportunity, grabbing his sleeping bag and stomped out of the tent. Parker was fine. He was just going out there to sleep. Max trying to get some beat Maria’s nagging.
He couldn’t help but suck in a small breath and his hand tightened on the sleeping bag when he was greeted with the wide-eyed, and terrified look on Liz’s face. Max, bare chested, hovered above her, his hands indeed gripping at the collars of her shirt, an unmistakable tear down the front. He could just make out the valley of her breasts, their slight swell on either side threatening to be exposed to the night air.
Max let go of the material in his clutches, glaring up at Michael. Liz took advantage of the momentary lapse in Max’s attentions and closed the tear, holding the damaged cotton to her body. Michael caught the dark mouth shaped bruise Max had marked her with. Or maybe it was just a shadow... What was going on? Max was just being enthusiastic. Or... dammit.. Rough?
Come on... This was Liz. Max treated her like porcelain. He wouldn’t hurt her. Would he? It had to just be the shadows from the trees combined with the firelight. What next? Oh hey...there’s Bigfoot. Max was across the fire trying to get some from his would be wife...Just not tonight. Tonight, Michael needed sleep. Yeah.
“Isn’t there somewhere else you can go... ? Like the van?” Max said through his teeth.
Michael looked to Liz. Not too seek her permission, but to give him his next option. Her pleading eyes made it quite clear. She wanted him to stay. He shouldn’t have cared about their sexual peccadillos, and the van was quiet, but something about those fucking eyes.
“Well the van, while only slightly less chilly than my tent...” he began, trying to seem nonchalant, but the pounding in his chest threatened to blow the facade of casual indifference.
“Asshole.” came Maria’s muffled commentary.
Michael smirked, “I decided you were right, its awfully damn romantic to sleep under the stars. Listen to the crickets chirping, frogs croaking... you pleading shamelessly for a few minutes in heaven...”
“Shut up.” Max bit out shifting off of Liz, when he saw Michael lay his sleeping bag down on the ground across from them.
Michael never wavered his gaze from Liz, watching her breath a sigh of relief as Max’s weight was removed from her body. She turned on her side as Max settled behind her, grunting as his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him possessively. Her hand passed lightly over the tear in her shirt mending the fabric and protecting her modesty. Dignity was already long since gone.
“And people say I’m cranky.” Michael shook his head, letting out his own sigh of relief. But was met with his own confused thoughts. It had to be a one time thing. Frustration affected everyone in one way or another, but Jesus, you don’t treat your near wife that way. He turned his head meeting Liz’s eyes through the flames.
“Thank. You.” she mouthed, closing her eyes before he could respond, missing his nod and his now reluctant internal vow, to keep a closer eye on her. Dammit, just when he was sure he hated her.. Max had to go and complicate things.
The next morning Max rose from the sleeping bag he shared with Liz, jarring her slightly as he pushed back the material. Liz shifted, murmuring about the cold air and drawing the sleeping bag around her shoulders for warmth, creating a cocoon. He wondered if his warmth was so easily replaced by a few yards of down and fabric?
He settled his gaze across the now smoldering fire to his slumbering brother. Last night Michael had reached a new level of asshole. How many times had he purposely made up something to do with Liz, or at that very least covered his ears, when Michael and Maria were... Sure it had been quite a few months since he’d even heard them... hell even seen them kiss, but they were brothers. A guy always has the other one’s back, especially when it comes to sex.
He hadn’t been exaggerating to Liz. She had been putting him off for weeks. The same old excuses, “No privacy.” “I’m tired, Max.” “Its too cramped in the van closet...” The spaces between when they made love were increasing and it worried the former king.
He felt his hold... bond...with Liz slipping through his fingers everyday. He should have known that her putting off their marriage was more than just a need to be settled. She was having second thoughts. Had been for quite some time. He just needed to make her see that while she could miss her parents back in Roswell, they could make a family of their own. That all they needed was each other. Home was where you made it. Not some dusty little town they’d left behind.
He knew last night had been about retribution for not letting Liz call her parents. And he knew it would hurt her when he forbade it, but it was for her own good. She was always so sad after talking to them. Hearing about everything she was missing out on when she chose to run away with him and the others. They had to focus on the here and now or they’d never settle down and start a family. The less she lingered on the past, the more she could start concentrating on the future.
Her parents were in the way of their love, had been since their senior year...after Utah. Every time she talked with them, he knew they were telling her to come home, asking her to risk her life, just so they could get him away from her. They didn’t know. They did not see how much they loved each other. How that love had kept them going all this time. It had seen them through the rough patches, which admittedly were more frequent, but he felt made their love stronger.
Why Liz couldn’t see the distraction her parents caused, baffled Max. Why did she insist on torturing herself with the phone calls? Having to defend her decision to leave with him, love him? Why couldn’t she just let go of her past to make her life with him presently and build their future? Why was she making something so plain and uncomplicated, difficult and messy?
It came down to simplicity. She made her choice. Him. He loved her. She knew he only had their best interests at heart. Somehow she’d lost sight of that, or her continued ties to home blurred her vision. He needed to have more control. Things were simpler when he was in control. Clinging to her past...her parents, only served to keep her there and not with him.
He’d make her see. He was all she needed. He could be her world, as much as she’d become his. He’d given up his son for her. That had to mean...everything. Their love meant everything.
Max ran a hand over Liz’s dark hair, wincing when she pulled away from his touch, even in slumber. They still had a long way to go, but at least they were together. His wristwatch began to beep and reality sunk in. He and Maria had their interviews in a little more than an hour and they needed to get showered. He rubbed a hand over his weary face and shuffled to the tent housing Maria.
He unzipped the tent and tried to gently wake the grumpy blonde. Maria swatted at him when he shook her a third time and Max chuckled understanding why Michael had started sleeping in his own bag. The girl could be brutal when her slumber was interrupted.
When he finally managed to get the grouchy Maria to exit the tent, they made their way to the showers, she grumbling about the early hour and the fact that Liz or Michael had yet to wake up to make breakfast.
“We’ll get something on the way in, Ria.” Max offered as they parted company at the showers.
Maria rolled her eyes, “Oh yay. Mystery meat on biscuit. You sure know how to woo a woman, Girlfriend. No wonder Liz isn’t giving it up.”
Max clenched his jaw. Michael had not only taken to sleeping in his own bag, but had now chosen to sleep as far away from her as possible and she was busting his chops about his relationship with Liz? But it wasn’t an argument they had time for. And Maria lived to argue.
“She’s...just...tired is all,” he finally provided.
“Uh huh.” Maria yawned, “Because the headache excuse is kinda moot with you being like Intergalactic Tylenol and all.”
“Maria...” he said sharply.
Intergalactic Tylenol? So what was Michael taking to get through life with her? Pluto’s Percoset? Or maybe Venus Vicodin?
He opened his mouth to say just that, but reminded himself that battling Maria wasn’t the best way to start out his day. A day that could turn things around. Be his and Liz’s new start. Best to just walk away. Let Maria have her small victory.
“Yes Max?” Maria tapped her foot, crossing her arms, looking almost hungry for a battle.
God she could push, “I’ll see you in thirty,” he bit out continuing his journey to men’s room and hopefully a nice hot shower to cleanse his body of its seemingly permanent tension.
“No luvin makes that alien a cranky boy.” Maria chuckled as she stepped into the women’s showers, “Liz better be careful, or he might explode.”
~*~
“Coast is clear, Michael.” Liz sat up yawning, after Max and Maria had disappeared around the corner to take their showers.
“How could you possibly know I was awake?” Michael grumbled refusing to open his eyes.
“You’re always the first one to wake at any noise,” she provided rubbing her eyes, “You aren’t exactly a heavy sleeper.”
“Yeah, but the fact that you know that tells me we’ve spent far too much time together.” He turned on his side, rubbing his eyes.
“And yet we haven’t killed each other. Miracles exist.” She absently mimicked gesture rubbing her hand over her own face.
“We’re on the run from the FBI and live out of a van that's seen better days. There's no miracle there, Parker.”
“It’s the little victories, Michael. Embrace them.”
“I don't embrace anything, especially sleeping on the ground.” He sat up, running a hand through his hair.
Liz let out a heavy sigh, “So we’ll find a place to live today. Sans rocks.”
“As long as I have my own bedroom, I'll be happy.” Michael mumbled a little too loudly.
“Things going that well with you and Maria, huh?” Liz bit her lip, knowing she was treading on dangerous territory.
“Like you didn't know that already,” Michael bit out.
“I tuned her out after a year, Michael. It can be done.” Liz returned.
"Don't need to tell me that. Why do you think I still have my hearing?" he smirked.
He caught the small smile that touched the corners of her lips. His smirk fell when he saw the dark purple bruise marring the tan skin of her neck as she pulled her hair up into a ponytail. Ugly confirmation that last night wasn’t about shadows and misheard words. Which meant that while he didn’t want to care what went on between Max and Liz, he was forced to... if Max was...
“Um...Liz...” he said with uncharacteristic unease, “I’d uh... keep your hair down...Max sorta...”
Liz’s hand flew to her neck and the spot on her neck, as if it burned.“Oh...yeah... thanks... I’ll fix it later... when I have a mirror...”
He watched her force an uncomfortable smile over her lips in a vain attempt to draw attention away from the mark on her neck. Was she embarrassed by the mark? Or how it had gotten there? Or maybe that he’d seen it too? Would she be able to deny what had happened? Because it seemed clear he couldn’t.
Michael rose from the confines of his sleeping bag, idly helping Liz as she threw some wood on the fire and filled the coffee pot with water and grounds.
“So...Um...How’s... everything?” Michael asked lamely. Did he really want Liz to open up to him about her woes, whatever they may be?
Liz smirked, “Small talk? I thought that was a Guerin no-no.”
Michael gritted his teeth. She was retreating. Nice move but not effective enough. “I was trying not to be an insensitive ass.”
“But you do that so well. Why mess with perfection?” she returned, with a playful wink.
Her voice seemed well veiled in playfulness, but Michael caught they way her hands trembled as she brought them up to the dark mark on her skin, upon the mention of perfection. Nice try, Parker. Can’t hide that easily.
"Fine. Speaking of insensitive asses... Does Max pull that routine often?"
The coffee pot slipped in Liz's hands, but she recovered her grip quickly before he could reach out and help and caught it.
“Guess I’m not awake yet.” she laughed nervously. He watched her worry her lip, her wide eyes already screaming the truth. “There’s no ‘routine’, Michael... It was just a misunderstanding.”
“You know you’d think with the size of his ears, he’d understand the word, ‘No’, Liz.”
She turned away from him, abruptly. Retreating. But too damn late. He already saw it. Fuck.
“He understood it last night.” Liz finally said quietly. “He stopped.”
“Yeah.” Michael snorted bitterly, “Only because I came out here.”
He watched her shoulders sag in defeat. He hadn’t meant for that. Blaming the abusee for the abuse. Wasn’t he an expert at that?
“How far has it...” Michael asked, his voice almost gentle... “Has he...”
Liz shook her head and spun around, “No... Last night..was... a fluke. We’ve been on the road for a while and it’s taken it toll on him... Could we not talk about it, please?”
“So Max has you caught up in his little world of denial?” Michael pressed. She was close to snapping and he knew it. What was he hoping to accomplish?
Liz’s eyes narrowed, “Seems we’re all a bit caught up in that, Michael.”
“Got something to say to me, Parker?” Michael stiffened.
“Not a thing. You wanna be a hypocrite that’s your perogative.” she threw back.
Michael felt his face grow hot, “You don’t know...”
“You aren’t the only one with ears, Michael,” Liz interrupted, walking briskly away and climbing into the van to change her clothes.
“Chicks suck.” Michael muttered throwing the coffee pot on the mini gas stove.
~*~
Breakfast had been uncomfortably quiet. Liz was still angry at Max, for reasons she felt obvious between them, and Michael for reasons she couldn’t explain, or didn’t want to understand. Maybe it was the fact that he’d pointed out to her the glaring faults in her relationship with Max, when he was normally content to ignore them. Remain in his own fucked up little world.
When Maria and Max had returned from the showers he’d greeted Liz with a smile. A smile? Was he not in that sleeping bag last night? Sure it was one thing for her to deny anything was wrong to Michael, but was Max really unaware that he’d crossed a huge line?
She sat by the fire as Max leaned down to give her a morning kiss. Without realizing it, Liz flinched, dodging his lips. She heard him suck in a breath of surprise and watched Michael, across the fire, arch an eyebrow at her avoidance, daring her to deny, again, what happened the night before with Max, wasn’t bothering her.
“Denied.” he muttered with a smirk.
“Shut up, Spaceboy.” Maria groused slapping his shoulder as she passed by, heading for the coffee.
Liz watched Michael’s smirk fade as she raised her own amused eyebrow at his clenched jaw, “Hypocrite.” she mouthed. Michael scratched his eyebrow with his middle finger, “Subtle”
“You okay Liz?” Max asked, bringing Liz out of her mini pissing match with Michael.
She stared up at him, his brown eyes shimmering with hurt. She almost felt the need to apologize for denying him his kiss, but she remembered those eyes dark, angry, lit by the fire beside them the night before. Those eyes that darkened every time she struggled against him. Full of mirth and... rage. “No” wasn’t enough....
“I’m fine, Max” she said looking away, finding the fire suddenly fascinating.
Max nodded kissing the top of her head before adjourning to the table for coffee and cereal.
“That’s tellin’ him, Parker.” Michael said bringing his own cup of coffee to his lips.
“Drop it.” Liz hissed.
“What the matter, Michael?” Maria asked dryly, “Bored with picking on me so you’re aiming at Liz now?”
“Well, I am starting to repeat myself with you, Maria.. Besides, Liz has hang ups I’m just now discovering. What kind of asshole would I be if I didn’t exploit them?”
“Sorry chica.” Maria rolled her eyes toward Liz, “But he’s got a point. He’s got to sharpen his skills on someone. But I got your back.”
“I got it.” Max announced quickly, startling the three companions. Seeing the wide eyed looks on their faces Max back tracked, “Sorry Ria. I just mean that I’m supposed to take care of, Liz.”
“Doing a fantastic job, Maxwell,” Michael scoffed.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Max asked, beyond tired of Michael’s bout with sarcasm that morning.
“It means...” Michael leaned forward in his chair ready to unload on his brother. If he was going to be an asshole he might as well go all out. Bring their dirty little secret to light. But he made the mistake of letting his eyes flicker over to Liz’s for the briefest of moments. They weren’t angry and bitter. They were pleading with him, “Don’t open this can of worms. Not now. Please.”
Dammit Parker.
He sat back in the chair, “Nothing, Maxwell. It means nothing. Go back to brooding. Paranoid and desperate isn’t a good look for you.”
Michael stared back down at his coffee, hearing Liz let out a sigh of relief. Yeah. She was relieved. Apparently appeasing Max’s fragile ego was contagious. But since when did he ever do that? Protect his royal ass from getting fried, sure, but protecting Max’s delicate sensibilities. Hell no. So who was he really protecting?
Dammit Parker.
~*~
While Maria finished getting ready for work, Max, Liz and Michael went about striking the campsite in silence. They’d be returning later that evening, but one thing they’d learned from their time on the run, was that nothing was permanent. And being ready to go at a moment’s notice was the norm.
So, Max rolled up the sleeping bags while Liz and Michael, exchanging heated glares, struck down the tent. By the time they had the van loaded Maria was “presentable” and they headed into town.
They dropped Maxwell and Maria off at the landscaping company first so that Michael and Liz could spend their time before work getting supplies and looking for a place to live. Cheap.
Max lingered by the passenger side window, saying goodbye to Liz for the day. Michael sat back in the driver’s seat with his hand over his face, praying that he be rendered deaf so he might not hear the conversation between the betrothed couple, or more hearing Liz once again bend to Maxwell’s whim.
“So I’ll see you when you pick us up this afternoon?” he asked rubbing the hand she’s laid on the open window.
“Probably.” she nodded, her muscles stiff with tension, looking as though she were trying to disappear into the bucket seat, away from her beloved. Her voice held no enthusiasm, almost as if she was looking for a way to avoid just that. Seeing Maxwell again.
Michael wanted her to show that fire. Tell Max, “No.” Tell him she had better things to do. He deserved to squirm a bit after last night. Make him pay. Even just a little.
Max’s brow furrowed, “Probably?”
Her shoulders sagged. Why was it every little word meant so much to Max? “I mean...”
“She means she has to get into that bar wench uniform,” Michael interrupted, rescuing puppy from being kicked...or as he liked to call her, Parker. “And believe me brother, if those things are half as complicated as they look she’ll need the extra time...”
“To tie the corset.” Liz nodded emphatically.
“Actually I was going to say stuff the top, but yeah whatever.” Michael waved his hand.
Liz threw a half-hearted glare at him and then turned back to Max with a look of pasted-on disappointment, “So I’ll probably have Michael just drop me off at the bar, before he gets you and Maria.”
Max studied Liz’s face, far from convinced that her uniform was the reason for her avoidance of him, “Liz... If this is about not calling your parents...”
“Back to that are we?” Michael scoffed.
Liz reached out her hand and squeezed Michael’s arm in retribution, digging in her nails. Message received, Parker. Don’t bait Max. Not now. He ripped his arm away earning an apologetic look from Liz. He knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him, but all the same he’d have some nice crescent marks in his forearm, and not in a good way.
“Look Max, I just want to get an idea of how they run stuff at the bar. That’s all,” she placated.
“Really?” Max asked hopefully.
Liz bit her lip nodding, “Really.”
Michael’s jaw might have dropped had he not seen this scene play out a million times before. Maxwell had screwed, up...well tried to screw her... Anyway it all ended with Liz handing Maxwell her spine on a silver platter. King Nothing got away with it again. And so it goes...
“Because I know it upset you but it’s just not...”
“For fuck’s sake, Maxwell! That horse is dead! Quit beating it!” Michael griped starting up the van. He couldn’t take it anymore and with the energy he felt building inside at his own suppressed rage, the van would pay the price with a blown engine. “Go to work!”
Before Max could kiss Liz goodbye Michael peeled out of the parking lot leaving his brother coughing on his dust.
“Michael...” Liz growled, annoyed with his rudeness.
“Talking to me right this second, Parker... Not a wise idea.”
Liz crossed her arms narrowing her eyes, “Oooh Mikey’s mad. Better watch out he might glare me to death.”
Michael gripped the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes, skidding them to a halt in front of the park.
“How is it that you can bust my balls at every turn, and yet Max can get away with forcing himself on you scot free?” he asked her, fury blazing in his amber eyes.
“He stopped...” Liz shook her head furiously, “Its over, Michael.”
“Bullshit Liz! I know what I saw and heard last night! And I’m not gonna deny it like you seem so intent on doing! I get the full Parker fury aimed at me if I make an offhand remark, Max tries to rape you...rape you, Liz... and everything is peachy fucking keen? What the hell is that, Liz?”
“Look I realize we have to share space, Michael...”she returned angrily. She did not want to be having this conversation. Not with Michael. He was convinced something nefarious had happened last night. It was a simple miscommunication, between she and Max. Why was Michael making more out of this than it was?
“...But that doesn’t mean we have to share our lives.” she continued, desperate to get him to drop his quest for misdeeds not done. “It was an arrangement I thought worked out pretty damn well! Why do you care all of sudden?”
“I don’t want to care! I’d be oh so friggin happy if I could just tune it out. But my makers blessed me with a conscience, so forgive me if I find an inherent sense of wrongness when you fight with me over stupid shit and hang your head with Max. I want an explanation, Parker. Why do you fight me and not him?”
“You don’t see everything, Michael! You don’t care, remember? How do you know I don’t fight with Max?” She did not want to be having this conversation. Michael didn’t see everything. Last night was a fluke. All the pent up energy from the road... it did funny things to Max.
“Because when I do see it. You cave. Every fucking time! We live in a goddamn tin can, Liz”
Liz's entire body seemed to sink in on itself, the anger giving away to exhaustion, “You're right Michael, we do, and it's obvious to me that we need some space right now... But I don't cave Michael, I just haven't found anything worth fighting for in a really long time...”
Michael gripped the wheel again. Liz Parker broken. No fight left. In complete denial. It was too much. “You’re right. We need space.” His voice resembled a bear-like growl, “You take the van. I need to... I’ll meet you at the diner at four.”
He opened the door stepping out seeking some peace from the quaintness of the park. It was a small town, like they all were. A few trips around its confines would calm him down. Give him the much needed space.
Liz nodded climbing over the van’s stick shift to situate herself in the driver’s seat. No way she was going to argue with Michael. He was starting to make sense, and in their world, Michael making sense bordered on apocalyptic signs.
Michael slammed the door shut shoving his hands into his pockets, “Parker.”
“Yeah?” Liz asked adjusting the seat to her short frame.
“Parker,” he said again, more insistently, the sharp tone, forcing Liz to look at him, “Find something. Soon.”
She watched him take long choppy strides in the opposite direction, the muscles in his whole body still tense with anger. She looked down at her own knuckles white with their grip on the wheel.
“Something.” she whispered in a bitter chuckle, “How do you find something in nothing?”
~*~
It was four o’ clock and Liz sat in the town’s small café stirring sugar into her iced tea. It was smaller than the Crashdown, but still held the same charm, making her miss home all the more. With it’s various yellowing news clippings about great storms and festival princesses and its colorful locals spinning their yarns about days gone by, the small diner provided a much needed distraction from the heart wrenching thoughts that were bouncing around in her mind.
Damn Michael. So content for the past two years to keep his nose out of her business, why did he have to go poking around now? Especially when his own tumultuous relationship with Maria was at an all time low? Did he not see the continuous damage being inflicted by both of them? Talk about denial.
Was he so afraid to look within himself, that he had to immerse himself in the woes of her and Max’s relationship? Not that there were many...Okay there were a few, but nothing more than what would normally occur between a former alien king on the run from the FBI with his changed human fiancee.
Liz rolled her eyes and groaned at her own situation, “Ridiculous.”
“Well I wasn’t going to say anything, but yeah putting a gallon of sugar in your tea is pretty stupid.” a voice said behind her, startling her.
Liz looked at her tea seeing a rather large pile of white granules swirling at the bottom of the glass, so lost in her own thoughts she’d forgotten what she was doing. She slammed the container down annoyed with herself and the voice that had pointed out her faux pas.
“Shut up, Michael,” she muttered, pushing aside the tea.
“People seem to be telling me that a lot lately.” he said pulling up a chair across the table from the brooding brunette.
“Look into that. Please.” Liz threw back.
She was still angry about their argument that morning and he had the gall to talk to her as if it never happened?
~*~
Okay so she was still pissed about their argument that morning. Apparently the effects of foot in mouth disease had a longer life when it came to large issues. Michael admitted, only to himself, that he’d been harsh. Pushed too far. It was clear she was in denial about what had happened with Max. Maybe she needed it. But why? Liz Parker didn’t break. Through, gunshots, FBI chases...Alex... She’d never broken. But he’d seen it that morning in the van. And he didn’t want to be the one that helped cause it.
He meant every damn word he’d said, but as was often the case, his method left a lot to be desired, especially with a delicate subject as...yeah...that.
He tapped his pocket nervously as a silence settled between them. His apology..No, not an apology. Michael Guerin didn’t apologize. Regret, maybe, never apologize. His...peace offering misshaping his jeans. He needed to find a moment to give it to her without it seeming like he’d lost his edge. That he felt sorry for her or sorry for anything he said. The truth hurt, she knew that better than anyone, but when it broke the soul, it was too much.
Deciding there would be no better moment, Michael reached into his pocket to retrieve the peace offering, “Look...Liz...” he began but Liz’s waitress popped up beside them asking if her “friend” would like anything as well.
Annoyed, Michael reached out and snagged the over-saccharined, blend Liz had concocted, “She’ll have another one of these.”
“You’ll have to pay for two,” the waitress replied, obviously annoyed by her frugal patron.
“I think I can rub together another dollar, Miss.” Michael grumbled.
The waitress shook her head and left to retrieve a fresh glass of tea for Liz, “You should be nicer, You know what its like...” Liz said.
“I know what its like to be cook. He comes out here, I’ll be nice.” He said before taking a sip of the overly sweet tea, and watching Liz scrunch her nose in disgust,
“Don’t want to be wasteful.” Michael shrugged his shoulders, “And when you’ve got freakish taste buds, its best to exploit them.”
Liz sat dumbfounded. Did alien men truly not get the meaning of the word argument? That when you piss off a girl, a stupid smirk and a bit of playful banter would not simply take away the anger over things said. He acted like nothing happened.
“You’re amazing,” Liz laughed sarcastically.
“Wow.” Michael sat back in his chair, “Maria finally said something nice about me. I mean its true of course. I am amaz....”
Liz rolled her eyes, “God, do you men always think with your dicks?”
Michael feigned thought and took another sip of the sweet tea, “As a general rule? Absolutely.”
“I don’t get you.” Liz shook her head.
“And I don’t get you,” Michael returned, “Its why this relationship works.”
“We have a relationship?” Liz asked amused, “I’m touched.”
“Don’t be,” he said, “We aren’t friends. We’re acquaintances forced together by sharing common elements in our lives. Max and Maria. We get pissed at them and take it out on each other. Its fucked up, but it works.”
Liz sat back mocking his earlier look of feigned thought, “I can buy that.”
“But like it or not. Things have changed. I’m not exactly happy about it either, but Max seems to be forcing issues left and right.” he said, his eyes holding hers, an eerie determination settling in.
“Not that again, Michael...” Liz practically whined. She did not want to be having this conversation, which could only lead to another blow out in such a public place.
Michael waved a hand at her dismissively, “Yeah. Yeah. “Max is just stressed. It was fluke. Really Michael, his shit doesn’t stink.’ Blah. Blah Blah.”
“I’m sure you’re trying to make a point, but fortunately I don’t speak Guerin.” she threw back. God he was ass.
“Let me translate then...” he sat forward, lowering his voice so that only Liz could hear.
He had his words chosen for once. Simple. Wrong was wrong. It should have been easy to say, but fuck all if he wasn’t so damn good at reading body language and Liz’s read of feigned strength. She’d fight if she had to maintain her toehold in denial, but he remembered what pushing her had gotten him before and right now he was trying to remedy that. Telling someone what they don’t want to believe accomplished nothing. He’d learned that from Max and apparently so had Liz.
He sat back, staring down at the glass of tea, the condensation on the tea trailing down the clear surface, “ What I’m saying is...I’m watching your back.”
“So what... you’re my protector now?” Liz scoffed, “How utterly goddamn noble of you? But I don’t need one, thanks.”
Michael blew out a puff of air. Damn she was difficult. “Its cute that you think that. And up until last night... I might have agreed. But it seems hell dropped a few degrees because here I am.”
“Do you not hear me?” Liz asked exasperated, “I don’t need you to protect me from Max. I don’t want you to. What goes on between us...stays between us.”
“Who said anything about Max?” he lied, “I’ve seen the uniform you have to wear at the bar. Short skirt. Tits pushed up. Hell, even you’ll get hassled.”
Liz narrowed her eyes, “So who protects you, Michael?”
Michael stiffened immediately. Oh she fought dirty. Here he was trying to offer her protection, try to keep her from breaking completely and she was throwing that around?
“Have you looked at me lately, Parker?” Michael recovered, “Not exactly one to get picked on.”
“Yeah,” Liz nodded her head at him like he was a small child, “And its cute that you think that, but to doesn’t make it true.”
“Have you been breathing in the van’s exhaust fumes?” Michael asked, his posture decidedly defensive.
“Oh I see. Because I’m a little girl, I need a big strong man to protect me from monsters he’s made up for me, but the big strong man can’t let a little girl protect...”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Parker. So can it.”
“And you say I’m in denial? Jesus Michael!” Liz threw her hands in the air her last nerve frazzled by this man. Her outburst caused them unwanted attention as some of the patrons turned around to see what the ruckus was about.
“Could you take it down a notch, Parker. Maria might have to defend her screeching title if you don’t quit it!” Michael hissed.
His hand fell on the object in his pocket, bringing him back to his original goal when he met back up with Liz. Yeah it was an apology of sorts, but no reason he had to be all poetic about it.
“You know you are gonna feel like a gigantic ass here in a minute.” he said absently patting his pocket.
Liz arched an eyebrow, “Well, it’s a good thing I have you here as a shining example.”
“Oh yeah... Huge. Idiot,” he said confidently. Why was he doing this?
“Why did you find us a place to live, with a hot tub and a busty Swedish massage therapist named Hilda?” She asked dryly.
“No.” Michael shook his head, trying not to laugh at Liz’s sarcasm. This was serious dammit. “Her name is, Inga.” Okay, so he was weak.
“Oh.” Liz rolled her eyes, “Well then tell Inga that she can have the third bedroom in the place I found us and you’ll take the couch.”
“Screw, Inga.” Michael said almost with boyish excitement, “I get my own room?”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” Liz asked, there was a lilt in her voice that threw him. Apologetic. Like she might be even disappointed if it wasn’t what he’d wanted. Maybe he wasn’t the only one with regrets over harsh words. Was this “home” her olive branch?
“Yeah.” Michael said, with less edge. Almost as if to say thanks. Yeah. Thanks. In Michael Land is all read the same.
“Okay. It’s three bedrooms. We’ll have to share a bathroom and the landlord rents it on a weekly basis. So, if we need to pick up at leave...”
“I know the routine.” Michael sighed.
“So I spent my last $150 getting that. All I had left was a buck for this tea.” she told him.
“Why didn't you ask Max for some money toward it?” Michael furrowed his brow.
“Because he wanted a two bedroom.” Liz rolled her eyes.
Max under the delusion that time spent in the glow of their divine relationship might push Michael and Maria back together. Or at least in the togetherness he and Liz shared. Liz was painfully aware of inner workings of Michael and Maria’s relationship. A passion that had long since faded, but Maria was unwilling to let go of.
Their relationship was never going to be like hers and Max’s, but then again no one had a relationship like that, or more the one Max had conjured up in his mind. Either way, the spare bedroom had been far from a shock to Liz, but she knew Max would try to play cupid, when all he would be doing was pouring more fuel on an already combustible duo.
“So...” Michael scratched his eyebrow, puzzled, “You spent the extra money...just to get me my own room?”
Liz arched an eyebrow at him, “Yeah. Now who’s feeling like a huge ass?”
Michael smirked. She was getting better at deflection, but he could still see it and for a moment the tension was eased. “Its still gonna be you. But its nice that you try.”
“Why do I bother?” Liz shook her head, “Your charm is like beer, its an acquired taste.”
“I have charm?” Michael frowned, “ Surly and difficult was more what I was going for. Besides, what I know of beer...Well yeah you remember.”
Liz nodded, “Kinda hard to forget a ‘surly and difficult’ alien hovering mid air over my bed after a bout with Bud Weiser.”
“Yeah...” Michael polished his nails on his shirt in mock vanity, “I am unforgettable in bed.”
“Lord take me now,” Liz sighed to the heavens.
“In you dreams, Parker.” he scoffed, watching her fight the grin that tugged at her mouth.
Liz looked over at Michael’s watch, “We better go pick up Max and Ria. It really won’t take me that long to get into my uniform. And I don’t want to deal with Max pouting.”
“At least you admit that.” he mumbled.
“Don’t start,” she admonished him as the laid down their money and left the small diner. Back to pissy. This girl ran more hot and cold then Maria, but without all the drama.
When they reached the van, Liz reached for the door feeling Michael’s hand clasp over the handle as well, halting her movements. She looked back up at him, amused, “Opening doors for me? Is this part of the ‘Almighty Protector’ package?”
“Cute.” Michael grumbled, “I don’t do manners, Parker. Keep up.”
“How could I forget? So I’m assuming you stopped me for a reason.”
“You aren’t going with me to pick them up.” he stated evenly.
Liz’s eyes widened, “God you’ve got some nerve! You think you can just tell me what to do, Michael? Forget it! I have my own mind... No one tells me...”
“Except Max.” Michael pointed out.
“No.”
“Yes. But I’m not gonna do the whole ‘back and forth, you denying it and me being right’ thing. Its redundant.” he said annoyed, “You aren’t going.”
“Yes. I am.” she argued, he cheeks flaming indignantly, “You can’t tell me what to do, Michael. The whole protector thing is your bag. I didn’t ask for it.”
“No you didn’t... That’s sorta the point isn’t it?”
Liz clenched her jaw, shutting her eyes tightly. Yeah he was infuriating her. And Michael couldn’t help but wonder why he cared. Why couldn’t he just let things go? Let what went on between she and Max, stay between she and Max? She was a big girl she could handle herself. She didn’t need or want some knight coming to her rescue, especially when the one she’d chosen had begun to rust.
“I’m going, Michael. And unless you plan on chaining me to a light post, which by the way would do no good,” she wiggled her fingers, “changed human and all...”
“Jesus! Do you chicks never shut the fuck up?” Michael tipped his head back exasperated, yet another reason he didn’t apologize. Too many damn words.
He shoved a hand into the pocket of his baggy jeans pulling out a small black object and holding it out for Liz. He watched her face contort in confusion at the cell phone lying in his palm. So sometimes Parker wasn’t a rocket scientist
“You aren’t going with me, because it would be colossally stupid to be on the phone with your parents with Max sitting right next you. Given the fact that His Royal Pain In the Ass has forbidden it.”
Liz reached a slightly trembling hand out to the phone, “I don’t understand...Can’t the FBI....?”
“Disposable cell.” Michael explained, “Untraceable.”
Liz couldn’t help the tears that had sprung to her eyes. She’d given up hope of talking to her parents with Max’s command the previous day and now here was Michael literally handing her the opportunity. Why the hell did he have to be so damn confusing?
Michael pushed his hand closer, “Well you can’t talk to them if you stare at it all day, Parker.” he groused, fighting back the urge to smile at what he knew were happy tears slipping down her cheeks.
Liz took the phone from his hand, her nails lightly scraping his palm, causing it to flex closed a bit of hers. She looked up at him with glassy eyes, “But why?”
“Got tired of the perpetual kicked puppy look. Not your style, Parker.” he said holding her eyes. He squeezed her hand reflexively before dropping it and shoving his into his pockets again, looking away, “I’m gonna go pick them up. Can you walk to the bar...I mean its not far...”
Liz nodded still dumbstruck by Michael uncharacteristic bout with generosity. He was the last person she’d expected to know how important her connection to her parents were, being without parents his whole life. Michael Guerin. An asshole with a heart. Who knew?
“I don’t know what to say...” Liz finally murmured as he climbed into the driver’s seat of the van.
Michael slammed the door shut and smirked leaning outside the window, “Don’t. That, ‘I’m A Huge Idiot’ look you have on your face is thanks enough, Parker.”
Liz couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “Thank you, Michael.”
He nodded and looked away. Not wanting attention to be brought to the fact that he’d actually been nice to Liz Parker. Actually thought about her feelings. It was creepy enough as it was to be concerned about her, let alone lend a voice to it.
He watched Liz stare down at the phone and bring a trembling finger up to the buttons punching in her parent’s number. Yeah, Max knew exactly what he was doing trying to cut Liz’s ties to Roswell. Son of a bitch. Oh yeah can’t let her forget...
“Hey Parker.” he called out starting the van.
She looked up at him bringing the phone up to her ear, “What?”
“Three.” Michael said cryptically, his smirk almost playful.
“What?” she scrunched her nose in confusion.
“Three.” Michael repeated holding up three fingers, “That’s how many tissues it’ll take on each side to fill out that uniform.”
Liz eyes narrowed, but the small giggle that escaped her lips belied her anger, “You’re still an asshole!” she yelled over the van’s rumbling engine. Her eyes widened as her attention turned to the phone at her ear, “Oh God...No...Daddy! I didn’t mean you... Yeah... its me...”
Michael drove off to the landscaping company watching Liz wipe away happy tears from her cheek, a bright smile on her face. Now that was the Parker he remembered, and it was worth the few moments of vulnerability he’d shown to see it.
~*~
“Would you stop pouting already!” Maria slurred at Max as he poked at the campfire angrily with a stick. The Jack Daniels, mixed with her Coke, she’d swiped from the former receptionist’s desk, hitting her bloodstream not long after they’d arrived at the campsite. It wasn’t a regular thing for her to get drunk, but with the tension around the four of them building, Maria felt then need to numb. Cedar oil didn’t make things fuzzy and right now, she needed the world blurry.
“I’m not pouting.” Max argued, “I’m not a child.”
Max had been more than a little disappointed that Liz really hadn’t been with Michael when he picked them up after work. He had found her uniform excuse flimsy to begin with and he knew it was retribution for not letting her call her parents. She just didn’t understand, but she would. She’d have to.
“Yes you are, Girlfriend” Maria snickered, “All men are.... Just big slobbering babies.”
“Says the girl who’ll most likely be puking in an hour, looking for someone to take care of her.” Max returned dryly.
“Oh lighten up, Max. You’re too tense. Everyone is too tense.” She waved him off taking another large gulp from her cup.
“This isn't some stupid game we're playing. Our situation is serious. We have to keep moving unless we want to get caught. Someone has to remember how dangerous our lives are.”
“Says the man who talks of nothing but settling down in every fucking town we go to. ‘Gee Liz this could be the start of a whole new life. Our new family.’ God, I swear if I hear that one more time...”
“The sooner we settle down, the sooner Liz will marry me.”
“Happily ever after. Ain’t it grand.” Maria rolled her eyes, “Sounds to me like you could use a sip of this stuff.” She held out the plastic cup filled with more booze than soda.
“Um no.” He shook his head, “Last time I tried to lose myself in alcohol, I made an ass out of myself remember?”
“Yeah, you and Kyle went through Liz’s underwear drawer and you did some alien graffiti. Woo frickin hoo Maxie.” She tipped her head back nearly falling out of her chair.
“Why am I even bothering to try to have a conversation with you? You're wasted.”
“Wasted?” Maria lolled her head over on to her shoulder to squint at Max, trying to focus on the three image she saw, “Wasted is my youth, spent in that van going from one dinky little town to the next, with my best friend and two aliens. Wasted, is watching you try to settle down with Liz and her putting you off. Wasted is trying to get SpaceBoy to feel... anything. Wasted...” she scoffed, “No, this is just pleasantly plastered my dear boy.”
“I'll admit that things with Liz haven't been as....active as I'd like them to be but I can see her need for privacy even if I don't always agree with it.”
Maria snorted in amusement, “Figures I say the word, ‘settle’ and you immediately link it to sex. Just when I think you’re one of the girls, Max... You go and start thinkin’ with your Johnson. Sigh...and you had such promise too.”
“I had promise to be a girl? That's not a compliment Maria, it sounds like one of the insults that Michael frequently hurls at me.”
“Awww...Was I supposed to make you feel better, Max? I’m sorry but only my friend Jack here can take away your troubles.” She tapped her cup, “ Or at least temporarily blur them up a bit. I’m no good as a shoulder for sexual woes.”
“From the argument I heard last night and the fact that you and Michael share separate sleeping bags, I'm not the only one with sexual woes around here. I'm just better at keeping mine to myself.” he hissed acidly.
“Oh we’re going there are we, Girlfriend?” Maria tried to sit up straight, her eyes narrowing, “Well, last night wasn’t exactly private now was it? ‘Come on Liz... You’ve been putting me off for weeks....It’ll only take a few minutes....’” she blew out a wet puff of air, “Oh yeah that’s just Shakespeare! Taking lessons from, SpaceBoy are you?”
Max’s jaw clenched, “Well as you so eloquently put it last night, Ria, ‘At least I’m trying.”
Maria rose off of her chair, her legs wobbly in her drunken state, “Big fucking baby, Max Evans. Do the world a favor and hit the bottle. It’d be an improvement!”
She began to walk off in to the darkness and Max called out to her, “Where are you going?”
“Bathroom!” she hollered back.
“Uh...Maria? The bathroom is the other way.”
“We’re in the fucking woods Max. Nature is our bathroom!”
Max knew he probably should have gone after Maria, but it was a well maintained campground and it wasn’t cold. She’d be fine. Probably come stumbling back to the site...or someone else’s in a few minutes. And it wasn’t like she was offering him the best company at the moment. Talk about a nasty drunk.
He stared down at the nearly empty cup beside the chair she’d stumbled out of...No he couldn’t. Yeah the world around felt like it was crumbling and his grasp on Liz ever slipping, but drinking wouldn’t solve anything. Look at Maria. She was numb to the pain she so obviously held in her heart over Michael’s inattention.
Then again a little Novocain for the weary soul had never proven harmful. One night, one moment, one sip wouldn’t make a difference. Last time he’d been giddy. Stupid. A foolish boy pawing through Mecca with the sheriffs son. And he sure as hell could use the laugh now.
Not when his thoughts were consumed, by his fiancee carrying a tray full of beers and shots to ogling patrons. Her waist cinched by her corset, pushing her breasts up as though on their own platter, for everyone but him....
He stared down at the cup already smelling the slow burn it would make down his throat. What would it solve really? Nothing. Things were bad now. Didn’t mean they always would be. He was being a bit of a hypocrite is seeking to numb his current woes instead of concentrating on the future he and Liz were building. That could be his high.
He set down Maria’s cup on the ground. One of these towns would be their home. Put the smile back on her face. Allow her to finally become his wife. He’d watch her belly swell with his children. A million if they could. None of them would replace Zan, but they would ease his hearts burden, because they would have their mother’s eyes and kind heart.
Yeah, that was all the drug...high....he needed. The future with Liz. A beautiful future, where he could make love to her every morning in a real bed, free from the prying eyes of Michael and the commentary from Maria. Just the two of them locked in bliss.
He picked up his own cup from the ground bringing it to his lips. The smell hit his nose, but the liquid already passed over his lips and started burning down his throat.
“Dammit Maria!” he yelled as he felt the alcohol she’d slipped into his cola begin to warm his blood and cloud his mind.
I need to add an EXTREME warning. This chapter contains a graphic rape scene. If for some reason this upsets you in anyway, please skip it. You can continue onto the next chapter and keep up. Thanks.
Chapter 4
“You cannot be serious,” Liz said with wide eyes as she and Michael made their way back to camp late that night.
She’d been in decidedly better sprits after he phone call with her parents. However, it would be going too far to call her giddy. Giddy, would be actually seeing her parents, feeling the comfort of their embrace, being home. But the flicker of joy, life, Michael saw in Liz’s normally lifeless eyes, was worth the moment of vulnerability he’d shown in giving her the phone. That little spark, just from kind voices.
“I’m completely serious,” he returned with a smirk, his eyes narrowing at the spray of lights the headlights to the van created, “It can be done. I’ve done it...do it.”
“But its ridiculous,” she argued, “You can’t just... its too...”
“Too what, Parker?” he challenged, “Too ‘icky’ a concept for your innocent mind to grasp?”
“No!” Liz huffed, “I’m not a goody-goody, Michael.” she grumbled.
“Please.” Michael rolled his eyes, “All you’re missing is the pigtails, lollipop and fluffy white dress.”
Liz smirked, “Don’t drag me into your fantasies, Michael. Its creepy.”
“Right. Because if I fantasized about that, I would have gone after you all those years ago, instead of Max. I like my food sweet and spicy, Parker... Not my women.” he added dryly.
Liz threw her hands in the air in surrender, “Look, all I’m saying is that I think...believe, its impossible to simply ‘fuck’ someone and have no emotional attachment to them.”
The current subject debate, being a result of Liz catching one of the waitresses, the owner’s girlfriend, bar using her break to service a patron in other ways in the parking lot. Michael had come outside emptying some trash and found Liz dumbstruck and red faced.
~*~
“Its just two people fucking, Parker.” he said with a smirk, watching her face flame with embarrassment, “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“B-but she’s Mac’s girlfriend.” Liz stuttered, “I saw her with him today... they seemed so...in love...”
Michael shrugged his shoulders tossing the garbage bags in the dumpster, “They are. Like I said, she’s just fucking the other guy. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t love Mac.”
“You can’t honestly believe that, Michael.” Liz gaped up at Michael.
“I live it, Parker.” he said arching an eyebrow at her, stepping back inside the bar, with the firm knowledge that Liz would not let this concept die at the back of the bar.
~*~
“An I’m telling you that it can be done.” Michael rebutted, “Maria and I did it all the time. The love train departed a helluva long time ago, but that doesn’t mean we both don’t have needs.”
Liz arched an eyebrow, “Well, unless I’m missing something, those needs haven’t been met in a while.”
Michael shook his head, “We aren’t rabbits, Parker. We get an itch. We scratch it. We move on.”
“Friends with benefits?” she questioned scrunching up her nose.
Michael looked over at her, bored, “Do Maria and I even come close to resembling friends?”
Liz shook her head, biting her lip, “I just... Sex is like the most intimate thing two people can do. I don’t know how you can detach your emotions from it. Its... impossible.”
“Just because you can’t do it, Parker... doesn’t mean it can’t be done. It’s the difference between fucking and making love.”
Liz looked over at him quirking her eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you made the distinction.”
Michael sighed heavily, “I know what its like to make love to someone. And I know what its like to fuck them. They just happen to be the same person and believe me the differences are distinct.”
Liz clapped her hands together, “So you admit it! You can’t fuck someone and not feel anything.”
“Quit twisting my words, Parker.” he argued, “I’m saying that when you make love to someone you feel everything. When you fuck them, you feel empty. Sated sexually, but empty. Thus you feel nothing. This isn’t rocket science.”
Liz shook her head, “I don’t think I could ever do that, Michael... I have to feel something...Its too much of your soul, it leaves you so vulnerable... I couldn’t just turn it off. And I think on some level, even you can’t.”
“You don’t know me well enough to make that...”
“Two years in a van gives you all sorts of insights, Michael.” Liz interrupted, her smirk faded and replaced with a look of confident knowledge.
“Proximity doesn’t give you shit, Liz,” Michael growled, “You see what I let you see.”
“Fortunately, I have other senses to aide me, Michael,” Liz countered haughtily, “I hear a lot. And I see more than you think.”
Michael smirked, “You just reserve the blinders for your own life.”
Liz glared, sitting back into her side of the van, “Then we must shop at the same store, Helen Keller.”
“Oooh. Deaf and blind.” Michael snickered, “Are you trying to tell me something, Parker?”
Liz rolled her eyes, “I forgot. Stone walls don’t talk back.”
“Oh we do. We just don’t give a crap whether you like it or not.” He shrugged his shoulder’s.
“And while seeming impervious, have cracks,” she pointed out, smirking when the arms stretched out over the steering wheel stiffened along with his jaw.
She watched his long hair shift on his shoulders as the corner of his mouth turned up. Yet another deflection on the way. Well, at least he was consistent.
“ Okay Parker I get the point, maybe I should where a belt to work. I just wasn’t counting on you checking out my ass.” he needled.
Liz, paused, momentarily confused. She nearly let out a groan, but settled for shaking her head. Cracks. Butt cracks. Where was Kyle when you needed him?
Okay, message received, no more serious talk, “Well if you’d just do the world a favor and, I don’t know, invest in some Fruit of the Loom...We wouldn’t get a peepshow every night.”
Michael blew out a puff of air, “You’re just pissy because it’s not the front that hangs low.”
He bit his tongue the second he’d let it escape his mouth. He’d given her far too great an opening. The perfect set up for a dick size joke. Idiot! Well, better suck it up, moron. She won this one.
He could practically feel her eyes light up and the chuckle that emanated from her throat, “Oh Michael. I’ll spare you on that one. You must be tired.”
“Mercy?” Michael raised an eyebrow at her, “Not something you give me a lot of, Parker.”
Liz waved her hand dismissively, imitating a frequently used gesture on his part, “Yeah well, you managed to finish the day low on the Asshole Scale...” She held up her purse, the disposable cell inside rattling along with her make up.
“I’ll make up for it,” Michael promised.
“I have no doubt.” Liz smiled, but it faded as they pulled into the campground.
Michael hated the way she shut herself down the moment they got within a couple of yards of Max. One second she was trading barbs with him, the next, she was retreating, fortifying her shell as expertly as he did his stone wall.
“What did your parent’s say about the FBI?” he asked quickly.
Liz sighed, “They make their monthly visits to intimidate, plant more bugs... whatever... so we had to talk about things...”
“...Non little green man related,” Michael finished.
Liz nodded slowly, biting her lip, “They know I can’t come home.”
“But they want you to.” Michael added.
“Yeah.”
“Wondering if its worth the risk?”
Liz’s eyes widened and she shook her head vehemently, “No. I belong here with you guys. I left that all behind when I...”
“You don’t belong here, Parker.” Michael countered.
“Michael, I have just as much, if not more...” she growled indignantly, he body tensing even further.
Michael held up a hand, “Dammit Parker you’ve spent too much time around Maria. Calm down for a sec and let me expand.”
Liz relaxed, “Sorry. It’s just that you tend to be a man of few words. I get leery when you want to, ‘expand’.”
“Just because I don’t say a lot, doesn’t mean I don’t have a lot to say, Parker.” He watched her nod signaling him to continue, “You don’t belong here. None of us do. This isn’t the dreams we had, it’s the fucking nightmare. But its what we’ve got. We stay because as fucked up as it is...this,” he gestured at their ratty campground, “...is home now.”
“You make it sound so bleak.” Liz said softly looking out at the campfire, its caretakers no where in sight.
"Bleak?” Michael shook his head and chuckled softly, “ Nah, this isn't bleak. Hell's bleak....oh wait, this is hell. Let me try again. Waking up next to Maria without her makeup is bleak.”
“I’d call that...scary... not bleak, Michael.” Liz returned finally smiling. She too wasn’t in the mood to search out the right word for their existence.
“Either way, Parker. You get the picture.” He gestured at the campground, “Not even close to pretty, but its home.”
“No offense, but Hank really warped you.” Liz shook her head.
“Along with other factors: my DNA, and my uncanny ability to see the truth, no matter how bitter it is.”
Liz clapped quietly, “Ladies and gentleman, Michael Guerin: Bitter Truth Seer.”
“Well, its better than a wolf bitch.”
They both let out uncharacteristic laughs. Michael, wouldn’t call it getting along, but it felt oddly soothing. Soothing? Since when did their situation ever allow him any sort of calm. He was the asshole. He had to keep his edge.
“By the way, that uniform almost makes you look like you have tits.” he said with a smirk.
Liz rolled her eyes. “Oh back in that mode are we?”
“Asshole is as asshole does.” Michael shrugged his shoulders, “So how many did it take?”
Liz glared at him but the corners of her mouth gave her away, reaching into her uniform blouse and throwing a wad of tissues at him. Michael caught them and counted them as she exited the van looking for the other pair of nomads.
“Only two?” he called out as he opened the door to get out, “Damn Parker, you’re finally blooming!”
~*~
Liz approached the low campfire scanning the dimly lit area for her fiance and her best friend. The quiet didn’t bother her. It was two-o-clock in the morning, it was supposed to be quiet. It was the missing presences that bothered her. They should have been asleep by the fire, or in the tent, but she didn’t feel their energies anywhere.
“Where are they?” Michael asked coming up behind her, concern coloring his voice. He knelt down, absently throwing another piece of wood on the fire, eyes roaming through the darkness trying to pick up any movement that might belong to Max or Maria.... or the FBI.
“I don’t know,” Liz shook her head, the same concern touching her voice, “Maybe they went to the bathrooms?”
“Great. Potty buddies,” Michael grumbled, standing up next to Liz.
Liz turned on her heel and began walking towards the bathrooms a few hundred yards down the path. She was stopped abruptly when Michael’s hand gripped her arm, “Where are you going?” he asked.
“Bathrooms.” She gestured at the path, “You stay here in case they come back a different route.”
Michael shook his head, “No way. I’m going with you.”
Liz rolled her eyes, “Michael, its sweet, but I can handle myself just fine in the dark.”
“Whatever, Parker.” Michael said dryly, “Just humor the asshole. Besides, I might need someone to hold my...”
“You better say ‘hand’, Michael...”
“Jesus Parker.” Michael made a disgusted face, “Get your mind out of the gutter. Besides you would need a forklift for that. Your puny little girl hands couldn’t handle it.”
“Fine.” Liz said exhausted, “Lead on, Chief Holds Own Big Stick.”
“Nice one, Little Mosquito Mountains.” Michael countered striding into the darkness.
“Its always about boobs with you, Michael.” Liz groaned.
“I am male, Liz, therefore all things come back to boobs. Keep up.” he said, almost chuckling at the near run she had to break into to keep up with his long strides.
“Ah yes the Holy Trinity: The Boobs. The Dicks and The Farts.” she sighed.
Michael made the sign of the cross of his chest, “Forgive me Father, for I have yet to grope today.”
Michael heard a loud cackle and shook his head, “It wasn’t that funny, Parker.”
“I know,” Liz said stopping in her tracks, causing Michael to do the same, “That wasn’t me.”
Michael strained his ears, hearing the cackle again. It turned into a snickering a moment later. It was coming from their right. Michael narrowed his eyes as he saw a faint glow and movement by a particularly large tree.
He took a few cautious steps forward, reaching a hand back unconsciously to stop Liz from following him, his wide palm spread across her corset covered abdomen. Liz lifted her hand placing it over Michael’s and shook her head at him.
“No. Potty buddies. Remember?” She tried to smile belying the slight fear that had sent her heart pounding against her chest walls.
Michael returned the guarded smile and nodded, “Okay, but just for the record I think you make a really fucked up Starsky.”
“Stop kidding around.” Liz grumbled as they took another few steps forward, “And wasn’t Starsky the blonde one?”
“Hell if I know.” Michael whispered back.
“Says Mr. TV Land.”
“Shut up.” he hissed, as the figure giggled again, stumbling to the side, the glowing subsiding.
Liz gripped Michael’s arm as they grew closer, “I hope to God this is your wolf daddy.”
Michael was about to tell Liz to shut up again when he saw a hand pass over the tree and it began to glow... or more the letters began glowing, eliciting a peal of laughter from the mysterious figure.
“M.E. Luvz L.E?” Michael muttered, growling with frustration, “Christ Maxwell!” he called out into the darkness, “You scared the shit out of Liz!”
“Max?” Liz squinted her eyes making out the stumbling figure of her fiancé, letting out a slightly relieved breath.
She dropped Michael’s hand approaching Max, muttering, “Like your hands weren’t shaking too, Hutch.”
“Lizabeth!” Max breathed, a dopey grin on his face, “There you are!”
“Whoa!” Michael waved his hand in front of his face as the strong fumes of alcohol from his brother’s breath nearly over powered him. Liz scrunched up her nose rearing back as well.
“Max?” She inched closer cautiously, “Have you been...drinking?”
Max nodded sloppily, “Not my fault though. Maria slipped some in my coke. Stupid girl.”
“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t stop after one sip?” Liz waved her hand as another alcohol filled breath from Max’s mouth hit her face.
“Hey, when in Rome.” Max clapped his hands together...looking around the woods, “Though I don’t think Rome has this many trees...”
“Where is Maria?” an irritated Michael asked, having no doubt he’d find her in the same state as his brother.
“Went to peeeeeeeee....” Max giggled, the force of his laughter sending him falling against the tree.
“Great.” Michael sighed, “Knowing Maria, she went the wrong direction. She can’t find anything when she’s sober.”
“You go find her, “ Liz said, shaking her head at her inebriated mate, “I’ll take Southern Comfort here back to camp.”
Michael eyed Liz warily, “You sure you can handle him like this.”
Liz nodded, “He’s like he was when he got drunk with Kyle in high school. Stupid, but harmless.”
“Hey...” Max furrowed his brow and then broke into another dopey grin... “Okay so it’s true, but I wasn’t the one who pawed at your panties that night.”
“No, just every night since then.” Michael muttered, shaking his head, “I’ll help you get Max back to camp and then we’ll look for Maria.”
“Michael...” Liz protested.
“Liz...” Michael returned, “ a few more minutes won’t get Maria anymore lost than she already is. You know how she gets when she’s drunk.”
Liz smirked and nodded, “True, walking does become challenging.”
Michael walked over to Max slinging his brother’s arm over his shoulder, “Come on Lunar Lush.... lets get you back to camp. Just don’t piss on the fire, the fumes might burn your Johnson.”
“I call him Fred.” Max cackled, “Fred, Freddie, Fred. Foreskin Fred. Fornicating Fred...”
“This is so not information I needed.” Michael bit out as he and Liz dragged Max back to camp.
“Me either.” Liz huffed, shifting Max’s weight on her own shoulders. “And apparently too much alcohol inhibits you ability to spell. M.E Luvz L.E.?”
“I spell good.” Max argued, bringing his arm away from Liz’s shoulder, “Max Evans luvz Liz Evans.”
“Newsflash Your Supreme Stupidness, “ Michael grunted as Max sagged all his weight into him, “Liz hasn’t married you.”
“You know what your problem is, Mikey?” Max asked, waving a finger at his brother as Michael set him roughly down on the picnic bench.
“Currently?” Michael scoffed, “My problem is finding your drinking buddy somewhere in this wilderness, preferably with a stick up her ass.”
Max laughed heartily, “Funny, but not my point.” He stared at his waving finger for a moment, “You’re problem is you think too literally. Liz...” he reached out pulling Liz to his side, “...is my wife in my heart.”
Michael watched Liz bite her lip at Max’s assessment, clearly not in agreement with her counterpart.
“Come on, Liz, “Michael reached out his hand to her, offering her escape from an uncomfortable situation, “Help me find Maria. Wouldn’t want my wolf daddy to take up with a new mate. He’s fickle.”
“Most dogs are.” Liz returned, but hardly felt threatened by Max’s goofy state, “Go on. I can handle Max.”
“Liz...” Michael warned.
“Michael, if we leave Max alone, he’ll probably take off again and we’ll just have to go looking for him. You go find Maria, bring her back and we’ll figure out a way to sober them up. Then I can zap Maria for getting Max drunk.”
Michael glared harshly at Liz. He wasn’t buying it. Not after last night. He watched her let out a heavy, flustered sigh at his stubbornness.
“What’s he going to do, Michael?” she gestured to the sloppy dark haired man next to her, “Accidently burn down the forest with a fireworks display?”
Michael was wary but Liz had a point, and given the loose state the alcohol had left Max’s body in, he was hardly seemed a threat.
“Actually a little more light might help me find, Maria.” Michael relented, studying the smaller staggered tracks that lead towards the woods for a moment before bringing his attention back to Liz, who’d managed to extract herself from Max’s loosening grip and began preparing the coffee pot.
“Liz,” he whispered so only she could hear, “Maria may have spiked his drink, but he could have stopped after one sip.”
Liz whipped her head around to reply, defend...whatever, but only saw the back of Michael’s form, jogging away into the woods.
“Hey, make sure Maria didn’t wipe her butt with poison ivy!” Max called out falling off of the bench with laughter.
“If she did,” Liz said over her shoulder, spooning grinds into the pot , “You get to heal her.”
Max scrunched up his face, “Ew... Gross Liz.”
She chuckled shaking her head and returned to the coffee pot. Max stared up at his would be wife from the ground. He started at her bare feet, the heels she’d worn to work long since abandoned. Her long slim legs curving into her too tight and far too short skirt. Her corset cinched at her waist pushed up her small bosom and he licked his lips at the faintest hint of her cleavage.
He grimaced at the thought of her walking around the bar on display like that. Those were his breasts and yet she propped them up for all of those walking dicks to see. Those were the breasts that only he knew how they looked bared. Breasts that had arched into his chest the night he’d taken her virginity on her balcony. Breasts that would one day swell and feed babies. Their babies. His babies. His breasts.
Max pushed himself unsteadily off the ground, a hunger possessing him. He needed to make love to this woman, now. Show her his love, rekindle what had been lost. Show her home was in his arms. The needed something...or someone to reconnect their bond. Strengthen it. A baby.
People say they change your life. Zan had changed his. And yes he’d given him up...for her. A baby of their own...God. It..he, she... a part of him and her. How could it not be perfect? Liz would feel the love from him through their child. The mere thought of her stomach round with a life their love had created, hardened Max. A baby was just the thing Liz needed to finally break away from her family and fit fully into her role beside him. She’d see.
He shuffled the few remaining feet towards her, bringing soft but clumsy hands around her waist, nuzzling his nose into her hair.
“You’ll be such a good mother, Liz.” he breathed into her ear, missing how her face contorted when the alcohol hit her nose.
Liz coughed softly, “Why, because I can take care of my drunk fiance? I hardly think that qualifies me...”
Max drew his hands from her waist, gently cupping her breast, lifting them in the corset, “Someday our child will drink from here.”
“First you are desecrating trees for me and now you are composing poetry to my boobs... You've got to lay off the fire water...”
As if not hearing her, his hands shifted to her corset laces.
“Wha-what are you doing?” Liz asked a bit nervously, feeling a bit paranoid for her little girl sense of danger. This was Max. She’d told Michael nothing would happen.
“Our baby will need room to grow, you can restrict this, you need to let it be free to expand...” he tugged at the laces more insistently, growing frustrated by his uncooperative fingers and the complicated “prison” Liz had put herself in. How could their baby survive all bundled up like that?
“Max, I spent the night dodging groping hands, I don't need this...”
She pushed away from him, stumbling against the picnic table. Suddenly he was behind her, pressing her down as he resumed his task. “I'm not groping Liz, we're going to make a baby.”
Liz’s body stiffened against the table Max was pressing her into. He wasn’t serious. A baby? Here? Amongst.."No Max, we're not making a baby,” she let out a nervous chuckle, “you're going to sober up and then go to bed.”
“We don't need a bed to make our family Liz, a child should be conceived in nature.” he whispered hungrily.
Liz shook her head, maintain her nervous smile, “"Max, you are starting to sound like a Discovery channel special.”
Liz pushed back against Max and away from the table as she felt her corset loosen away from her body. Her eyes widened as she felt Max’s obvious arousal pressing into her bottom. Instead of stepping away as she expected, he crowded closer, placing a hand against the center of her back and forcing her down.
As if he didn't hear her, he continued, "Such a strong back, it will support our child, we'll have a strong child, Liz. Our child.”
Liz’s heart began hammering against her chest as she felt her corset begin to fall away from her body. This was crazy. This wasn’t happening. Max must have been drunker than she thought and Maria would pay for it later, by God. Sure people get amorous when drunk, but this was bordering on ridiculous. And what was with the sudden obsession with babies?
“Max...” she spoke slowly, gently, bringing her hand up to her falling corset, “We are on the run. This is no time for a baby.”
There. Logic. He had to understand that...even drunk. Right?
“Exactly,” he exclaimed, his tone like that of a proud teacher when their pupil finally understood. “If we have a baby we don't need to run anymore.”
She felt a cool breeze at the tops of her thighs and realized he’d been slowly pulling up her skirt. Okay so logic wasn’t working. Danger?
“What about the FBI, Max. They are not going to just let us stop.” she tried to reason.
“Having a baby adds stability, Liz, it adds trust.” Her skirt bunched around her waist. “We don't even know if they are still following us. Besides no one would want to hurt a child.”
No one? Did he not remember Pierce? That sadistic son of a bitch had no problem torturing a teenage boy... somehow dissecting a baby would not seem like much of a stretch for anyone like him. He’d know this if he weren’t blind drunk. He needed to sober up. Quickly. See the big picture instead of the softly lit one in his alcohol fueled mind.
“This is ridiculous Max, a delusion, we can't have a child. It's too dangerous and you know that, or you would if you would just let the alcohol wear off....”
She attempted to reach back and pull her skirt back down, remove the temptation, but felt Max’s hand wrap around hers, tightly bringing them above her head.
"You are not listening to me, Liz. You don't see." For a moment she thought she heard the hardness of anger, but she dismissed, only to find her wrists bracketed by his fingers, holding her down. “I’m just going to have to make you understand.”
She attempted to wriggle her hands free, but felt a burning sensation in her wrists. Her eyes focused on Max’s hand encompassing her hers. It was glowing. What the hell? Sure, last night he’d been rough, but he stopped. He would tonight. She just had to get through the haze of the booze. He’d stop. He had to.
“M-make m-me...?” She stammered. Did he realize what he was saying? Doing? This joke, bit of playing, whatever the hell it was had to stop. It wasn’t even close to resembling fun. Had she fallen into a parallel universe? Gotten hit on the head by a drunken patron? Max was going to “make” her?
“Joke’s over, Max. Let me go.” she gritted out, somewhere between annoyance and building fear.
“It’s not a joke.” Max insisted, “It’s our life.”
She felt his hand glide over the silky fabric of her underwear and then nothing. They were gone. Her mouth fell open in quiet shock as she felt his erection pressing against her, unencumbered by his jeans. This wasn’t happening. She hadn’t heard his zipper. His powers?
“Ma-max,” she hated the quiver in her voice. Bit down on the side of her cheek to focus herself. This was nothing to fear, this was Max. He loved her. “Max, knock it off. I don't want to play anymore.”
“I'm not playing.” And that's when she felt it...him... probing, pushing in. “We're going to make a baby tonight Liz, we are going to make everything better.”
This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't happening...dry, ripping, rough, invading...
“Michael!” she screamed.
The time for pretending was over.
~*~
Michael had been wary of leaving Liz behind with Max, but he’d seemed to have been too dopey to even know what to do with a hard on let alone use it. He’d let Liz convince him a few minutes alone with her inebriated boyfriend wouldn’t end the world.
Michael scanned the tussled leaves and broken branches that had become Maria’s staggered path. He could practically see the sloppy blonde waving her arms in the darkness at her wooden “attackers”.
He heard a low alto slightly to his left, humming three different tunes, words, lyrics, having little meaning. Following the familiar voice he came upon a clearing finding the once sultry siren sitting astride a fallen tree staring up at the moon.
“When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...That’s amore...” she sang, her voice slightly sharp. Sarcastic. Edgy.
Michael winced as the final note died an octave too low. What bug crawled up her ass this time? And shouldn’t the alcohol fumes have killed the little bastard by now?
“And you say I know nothing about romance?” he said finally making his presence known. Pick her up and get her back to camp. That’s all he had to do...again.
Maria peered up at him over the cup, emptying the last few ounces of alcohol and tossing the cup aside absently.
Maria smirked, shrugging her shoulders, “Know nothing. Do nothing. Its all the same.” She looked back up at the moon, “I remember when nights like these used to be fun.”
Michael snorted, “What? You drunk and singing about pizza, while I carry you back to camp before you get sick all over the cute woodland creatures?”
Maria rolled her eyes, swaying a bit as the gesture made her lose her equilibrium, “So fucking literal SpaceBoy.” she slurred, “I mean the nights when you and I used to camp out and stare at the stars, try to find home... make love under them...”
“You mean have sex under them.” Michael corrected.
“Oh that’s right... romance is lost on you.”she countered, rising off the stump a bit wobbly.
Michael shook his head, “Romance has nothing to do with our relationship. Never has.”
“What happened?” Maria pouted taking cautious steps toward him teetering on some unseen line.
“To what?” Michael furrowed his brow, hardly wanting to have a conversation about the demise of their relationship while she was beyond intoxicated.
“Us, Michael? We used to love each other.” her voice wavered with emotion, “Now all we do is fight and fuck.”
“Feelings change, Maria.” Michael bit out harshly, “So do people.”
It was the truth and Maria knew it. He wasn’t being mean, just honest and he knew Maria knew that. How many times would they have this argument? How many times did he have to say it? And why did she have to pick the goddamn forest to rehash the demise of their relationship? They needed to get back to camp. Now.
He felt her small frame stumble into him, the alcohol effecting her grace as well. So focused on returning to camp, he missed how the softness that had been in her eyes a moment before had taken on a hard edge. She lowered her palm to the from of his jeans stroking him through the denim. His body stiffened, but that was all.
“Good thing fucking doesn’t change.” she whispered, her voice low and husky, dangerous, “We’re still pretty good at that.”
Michael brushed her hand away, “I'm not in the mood to waste a few minutes rolling around on the ground. We should get back to camp. Your little bout with bartending has left Maxwell a bit stupid.”
“He needed to loosen up,” Maria chuckled with an unnerving mirth, and wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck, “And so do you, but I can think of a much better way to release some tension.” She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, attempting to kiss his retreating neck, “I can make you howl at the moon, Michael.”
Michael waved a hand in front of his face swearing he could get drunk of the fumes from Maria’s breath, “Yeah, you’re all sorts of appealing tonight, Margaritaville.”
Undaunted Maria tensed her hands at the base of Michael’s neck forcing his resistant body down to her mouth placing open mouth kisses on his pulse point. She knew he’d cave. She wanted the wild animal who lurked beneath the surface.
“Its been so long, Michael.” she panted, working herself into a frenzy.
He attempted to push her away hoping she’d take the hint, but the small girl was tenacious and kept her arms locked around his neck, “I don’t want to do this, Maria. You’re drunk.”
“I’m horny.” she countered, biting at his neck.
The sting of her teeth on his skin sent Michael jerking back. He stumbled over an exposed tree root falling backwards onto the ground. Maria, still holding onto him fell with him landing on top of his body.
“Get off of me.” he grumbled up at her. In the distance he though he heard a shriek.
Maria’s eyes darkened and she smirked sitting up and astride her sometime lover, “No.” she wiggled her hips against his.
Michael’s hands shot up stilling her movements, far from amused. Had that shriek come from their camp, or a bird flying overhead. An eagle... God please not from camp.
“I'm not playing around.” he growled, “Get off of me now. We need to get back to camp.”
He attempted to sit up and dislodge him from her lap, but she squeezed her legs around his hips and shoved him back to the ground roughly, “Liz can handle Max... I want to handle you.” she leaned down to capture his evasive lips.
Michael’s jaw tightened, his anger exploding. The hands that had been stilling Maria’s rocking hips moved up to her shoulders pushing her back up and away from his face, “Don't you get it? We're not having sex! I don’t want you! Nothing you say or do will change me! Now get the fuck off before I throw you off!”
“Michael!” Liz’s desperate scream cut through the silence of the woods.
Upon hearing his name, Michael missed the fury in Maria’s eyes flame to life as the shriek he’d heard earlier became decidedly human. Liz was screaming his name and that could only mean one thing. Fuck. He never should have left her alone with Max.
He felt a sudden sting on his cheek and was brought back to his current reality. Maria sat atop him rage blazing in her eyes her hand reddening from the slap she’d just delivered to his face. He stared up at her in wide eyed shock as once again Liz’s desperate crying of his name filled the woods.
“Michael!”
“Maria! Do you not hear Liz? She’s in trouble! Get off me!”
With another slap to his cheek, Michael realized that Maria hadn’t heard a thing. He knew that rush of blood had hit her ears that made her deaf. She was angry, rejected and was going to take it out on him. Now was so not the fucking time.
“Fuck you, Michael!” she screamed at him her hands balling up into fists as she began to pound ferociously on his chest, “I hate you! I hate this life you dragged me into!”
Michael attempted to block her flailing hands, wanting so desperately to fight back, but he’d never hit a woman. Never. Not even now.
“I could be singing on a stage in New York” Her fist connected with his lip, cracking it open “Cutting a demo! Having a fucking life! I gave that all up for you!” Another fist connected with his brow and he growled against the pain, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. It worked with Hank... Jesus he never thought he’d have to do it with Ria... Her words sliced through him more than Hank’s belt buckle ever did, but now so were her fists.
And was she serious? He never asked her to give up her life or dreams. She’d come willingly too afraid to be left behind. Yet here he was getting beaten for her mistake.
Between his own pain and Maria’s ranting Michael could still hear Liz screaming his name. His imagination running wild with what every wasted second was doing to Liz. He’d vowed to protect her and there he was sprawled on the forest floor trying to protect himself. Fuck the rules, Liz needed him.
“Guess we'll do this the hard way!” he said through his teeth, once again gripping Maria’s shoulders this time tossing her off of his body and sending her drunken frame rolling on dirt.
When he saw her sit up, anger still blazing in her eyes, he took off for the camp at a dead sprint, Liz’s screams growing louder as he grew closer to the camp, Maria’s angry cries of retribution dying behind him.
The same branches Michael had imagined Maria batting away, now slapped him in the face leaving scratches, nicks and bruises on his body that Maria, given time, might have delivered herself. He faintly recognized the taste of his own blood in his mouth, a result of Mara’s flying fist, but remarkably he felt no pain. Physical or emotional.
All he could feel was his heart pounding against his chest, the beat growing faster with every scream that was torn from Liz’s throat. Some protector he’d been. Leaving her alone with a drunk. Didn’t he know better than anyone what a stupid thing that was. Sure Max had seemed incapable of movement let alone forming a coherent thought. Nothing like Hank the second alcohol hit his system.
But Max did hold that same rage in his heart. He’d seen it and Michael realized, he hoped not too late that a goofy drunk could change into an angry one with the snap of the fingers, or even a harmless offhand remark.
“Michael!” Liz screamed again, shamelessly calling out for a protector she didn’t want, but clearly needed.
He heard her fear and desperation and knew that while he was close she needed reassurance that whatever she was enduring it would be for much longer.
“Liz!” he called out, letting her know he was close. He’d heard her. She wasn’t alone.
Michael’s pounding heart began to tear at the sobs he could hear. He wished he could hear relief in them, but all he heard was pain.
He broke through the clearing to their campsite, pausing only a moment to gauge where Max and Liz were, meeting Liz’s terrified eyes from across the picnic table she was bent over, Max’s body pressing her against it. Tears streamed down her cheeks and he saw a cut over her forehead spilling blood down her cheek. There was a faint glow coming from Max’s hand. He’d pinned her down with his fucking powers?
“Michael...” Liz rasped, her voice choosing to die the moment he appeared.
Michael wouldn’t leave Liz’s eyes, vaguely hearing Max growling angrily behind her. How far had he gotten? Wait a minute, who the hell cared?
Michael, not trusting his powers enough to use them against his own brother, propelled himself off the ground jumping up onto the picnic table and racing across the surface, finally catching Max’s eyes as he lunged at his brother throwing them both to the ground and away from Liz.
~*~
Liz felt as though she’d been crying Michael’s name for hours and even in her untenable situation, his name seemed to bring her comfort. She knew he’d come. That stubborn streak of his had its advantages. Once Michael made a promise, he kept it. He’d protect her and right now she was in serious need of that protection.
Max’s anger and consequent violence had grown since the moment he invaded her body. Anger over her resistence, over her refusal to make the important bond, to give in see the love and create their child together.
Instead the first thing that came from her lips was not a cry of pleasure, but his own brother’s name. There he was trying to salvage their relationship and she was calling another man’s name...while he was inside her.
“Why don’t you see?” Max growled into her ear as his hips movements increased in force and intensity, “I’m doing this because I love you.”
He the hand on her hips moved up to her back, trying to soothe tense muscles, in an attempt to relax her, while his other hand kept her pinned, helpless.
“Michael!” Liz screamed again. She knew Max was beyond reason. Nothing she’d say in protest would make any difference now. Max was determined he was right and if their was one thing she’d learned it was Max could be as stubborn, if not more than she and Michael combined when given the proper motivation.
The nails at her back dug in harshly, upon another cry of Michael’s name, dragging down the soft flesh and leaving welted red marks on her once smooth skin. Blood appearing in the areas torn by his jagged nails. He stopped at her hip gripping it harshly, sure to leave bruises that would match his fingers, and his thrusts increased.
“Why are you doing this, Liz?” Max panted, “Can’t you see a baby would make everything right? I didn’t know Zan for very long, but I miss him everyday. God, our child could change all of that. We’d be full again!”
He wanted to replace Zan? He honestly thought a baby would make things simpler for them? Make them fall in love again? He thought this act... this violence would breed more than just a baby, but a sea of love? Dear God...
“Michael!” she screamed again, her throat throbbing along with the rest of her body. She knew Michael could hear her but wasn’t sure how far away he wa...
“Liz!” she heard him call out and she sobbed out almost in relief. She wasn’t alone. It would be over soon. Relief was short lived as Max’s invasion kept her where she was. In pain, being torn apart inside and out by the man she’d trusted so implicitly with her life and happiness.
Hearing Michael call out to her, stirred something in Liz. She felt less helpless, the need to fight back, despite her precarious position. She bit her lip as Max continued his harsh movements inside her, his hand at her wrists increasing their grip as he approached his release. She shut her eyes tightly, remembering a move Michael had used on more than a few occasions to get drunk patrons off of his back, literally. He told her it hurt like hell, but it hurt the attacker a hell of a lot more.
She took in a deep breath and snapped her head back sharply into Max’s nose. A dull ache at the top of her head immediately took hold and she heard Max holler in pain, rearing back for a moment. His thrusts had stopped instantly and the hand at his hip shot up to his nose, holding it. Liz attempted to wriggle her wrists free, the glow from Max’s hand fading after her attempt at escape, but the moment was gone as she felt her forehead strike the picnic table she was bent over. Retribution for rejection.
“Why did you do that?” Max spat angrily, as she lifted her head slowly her tears falling in rivers down her cheeks and splashing onto the chipping red paint of the table. She felt something warm trickling down the side of her forehead and watched in horror as the red of her own blood dropped onto the table, diluting in the small pool of tears, creating a hateful stain.
“Don’t you know I gave him up for you?” Max asked, his hips once again resuming their frantic, violent pace, the force at which he drove into her body even harsher than before.
He gave Zan up because it was the right thing to do? Their lives were too dangerous...He was too young... It wasn’t because of her...
“I did it all for you!” Max yelled into her ear, “I gave my son away for you, Liz! I chose you, Liz! I’m doing this for you! You fucking owe me my son!”
Oh God...No...Oh God...
Through the sound of her own hips being slammed into the picnic table, and Max’s “confessions of love”, Liz heard the rustling of leaves, snapping of branches and the familiar heavy footsteps of Doc Marten’s being pounded onto the dirt. She stared ahead as Michael burst through the woods and into their camp, meeting his eyes the moment he found his bearings.
She was so scared. She readily admitted it to herself. Fucking terrified. Her shame was laid bare for Michael to see and all she wanted from him was his offer of protection. She saw his own terror. His anger over having been right again. Max was hurting her. He’d warned her, but she knew even Michael didn’t want to be right this way.
“Michael...” she rasped, his name dying in her throat in a plea for his help. His action.
So he wasn’t the white night riding up on his steed to rescue the fair damsel in the nick of time, but he could... would, stop her pain. Tonight, he would be her rugged, damaged, champion.
Liz watched Michael clench his fists and rage filled his eyes, but it wasn’t the same rage she’d been feeling from Max. Michael’s was purer, if that was possible. His anger came from injustice not selfishness.
Suddenly she was face to face with his boots as he’d jumped onto the picnic table. As the boots drew closer, the glowing hand over her wrists disappeared as did Max a moment later when Michael tackled him away from her body. The pain that filled her leaving her empty and burning.
She pushed away from the table, her hands shaking as she instantly pulled her skirt back down over her body. She stumbled as she turned around hearing Max and Michael struggling on the ground, growling and muttering expletives at each other. Every part of her body ached, screamed out in pain. Her hips, her back, her throat, but none more than her heart as she felt her world tumble in around her. Her denial mocking her as she felt her insides throb from Max’s painful invasion.
She tried to take a step forward, to retreat. Michael could handle Max. She just needed to get away. But her legs wobbled. The shock and pain, weakening her. Her knees buckled and she sunk on the ground drawing her legs up to her chest, eyes wide, tears still rolling down her cheeks, and her lips trembling with trapped sobs as she watched Michael pummel Max in retribution for his actions.
Max’s actions. Hateful. Angry... Rape.
“God...” she cried quietly, feeling her heart shattering.
~*~
Michael lost sight of Liz as he’d tackled Max to the ground. His anger, at himself, at Max, making him blind. Fuck Max for bringing them to this point, for hurting her. For doing the unthinkable. The unforgivable.
Max never stood a chance between Michael’s formidable weight and anger, and his own drunkenness. They rolled on the ground until Michael sat above him, eyes blazing with fury and indignance.
“You bastard!” Michael raged, grabbing Max’s lapels, slamming Max’s already fuzzy head to the ground, “What the hell’s wrong with you!?”
“She’s mine! I love her! She had to see!” Max hollered back, “Stay the fuck out of it, Michael!”
Michael brought his fist back without a second thought cold-cocking his brother in the eye. He knew it wasn’t about territory or possession for Max, it was about power. Making sure he was the center of her world, defiling his one purity, Liz, with his hunger for absolute power and domination.
“Did she say, ‘No’?” Michael asked through his teeth, as Max tried to pry his arm away from his shirt.
“Why would she say ‘No’!” Max argued, “She knows I love her!”
“Did. She. Say. No?” Michael repeated in primal growl the hands on Max’s shirt collar heating up, burning the material.
“I said, ‘no’...” he heard a small, trembling voice behind him.
Michael whipped his head back seeing Liz balled up on the ground by the picnic table. Her eyes were wide, tears and blood staining her face. His rage still coursed through his body, but seeing Liz on the ground wrapped so tightly around herself, retreating within, his rage took a backseat. It wasn’t time for retribution. It was time for protection. Killing Max wouldn’t take the pain away.
Shoving off of Max, Michael crawled the few feet to Liz, not wanting to tower over her. She’d been dominated enough for one night. He only rose slightly on his knees to try and meet her eyes. Eyes that had become vacant aside from the never ending tears that flowed from them. He brought shaking hands up to her face, grimacing as she instantly flinched away from his touch, holding her hand in front of her, ready to blast anyone who came near her.
“Liz...” Michael said softly, belying the raging animal that had just pummeled his brother a moment earlier. “Liz...” he repeated, he had to reach her. He was there to protect her, not harm her, “Its me... Michael. I won’t hurt you.”
Her eyes flickered up to his, upon hearing her name so softly spoken, recognition, safety. Michael was safe. Her lips trembled as his large hands tentatively cupped her face, the dirt from the ground he’d crawled on, mixing with her blood and tears.
Liz studied Michael’s face her brow furrowing, as she saw his wounds, unsure of where they’d come from. His struggle with Max? Her eyes downcast to his partially opened shirt, seeing the distinct claw marks just below his collarbone and the jagged circle hollow circle bruising his neck. Seems she hadn’t been the only one...
“I said, ‘No’, Michael...” she repeated, raising her shaky fingers to the bite mark on his neck.
“I know.” he nodded, closing his eyes slightly when Liz’s light fingers ran over the bruising mark on his neck that Maria had delivered. Retribution for refusal.
He turned his head glancing back at Max, whom was rolling around on the ground holding the eye Michael had connected his fist with moments earlier. Temporary distraction. And from the cracking branches and muttered expletives, Michael could hear Maria making her way back to camp. Great two angry drunks. He needed to get Liz out of there. Or at least somewhere safe.
His eyes fell to an unlikely sanctuary. The van. He could lock her in there. Fight off Max and Maria until they could sober up and realize what they’d done, having no doubt the guilt would come. Heavy and hard.
His hands left Liz’s cheeks and settled on her shoulders, “You don’t belong here, Liz.” he said simply.
Liz lifted her hand to Michael’s bloodied lip, letting a tear fall for his wounds, “You don’t either, Michael.”
Her watched her look past his shoulders to her... attacker...Max....fiance. He was beginning to get his feet and he felt her shoulders tense beneath his hands. Bringing one hand from her shoulder to her chin Michael tilted her face back to his.
“I’m going to put you in the van. Okay?” He spoke slowly, not because he felt her stupid, but she was in shock and he wanted her to be aware of every movement he made. That her safety was paramount, “I won’t let him touch you again. I promise.”
Michael reached out to take her hands, wincing as she withdrew, an instinct given the way she’d just been attacked, no matter how severe. He knew on some level she trusted him, but her body had to be on high alert wary of any male presence. He remembered that feeling from his days spent with Hank. Every movement or gesture, no matter how harmless, had always made him flinch.
“Liz...Please... Let me help you.” he pleaded. Yes, pleaded. He needed to help her.
He let out a small breath of relief as he saw her nod slowly and cautiously placed her trembling hands in his own, giving trust she shouldn’t, but he was grateful to embrace.
Michael rose cautiously off the ground, bringing Liz up with him. She seemed to stand steadily for a moment, but her legs buckled and she cried out as she tried to take a step forward. He immediately wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her body to his formidable frame. It wasn’t just her hands that were shaking, it was her whole body. And that cry. Was she in pain? What the fuck did Max really do to her? He hadn’t taken the time to see if he’d... She’d said, “No”. Did that mean...? Michael’s heart dropped. Had he been too late?
As he caught Max rising to his own feet swaying slightly, Michael decided these were questions Liz could answer later. Now was not the time. Without a second thought Michael wrapped his other arm under Liz’s legs, cradling her to him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she buried her face in his strong shoulder, her tears instantly soaking through the fabric of his t-shirt and into his skin. Embedding her pain into his soul.
“Hey!” Max called out staggering toward the slow moving duo, “I wasn’t done with her yet! She still doesn’t understand! Love it was for...fucking love! All of it’s for her!”
“Michael...” Liz whimpered into his chest, her whole body tensing and shaking as Max drew closer.
“Shhhh....” Michael said rubbing his cheek against her hair, “I promised you, Liz.”
With Liz still in his arms turned around to face Max extending the hand that supported Liz’s legs. Max left his feet flying backwards in the air a few feet before being dropped in front of a nearby bush.
“You’re done.” Michael growled, turning back towards the van.
When he reached the van door he heard a screech behind him followed by a drunk yelp of pain from Max. He didn’t have to look behind him to know that Maria had stumbled over Max on her way back into camp.
“What the hell is... Max? What are doing by this bush?” Maria yelled.
“Michael put me here!” Max slurred angrily.
“Ew! Max!” Maria groaned, “Put that away!”
It was only then that Michael heard Max zip his pants up. As he set Liz down on the worn carpeting of the van’s floorboards, his heart pinched. Max did have her bent over the table, she’d cried out in pain when she tried to walk... Jesus...
Michael gripped Liz’s face in his hands, searching her eyes, “Liz? How far did he get?” his breathing became labored. He wanted the truth. He needed to know of he’d failed her, “Liz? Did Max.... Did he rape you?”
~*~
“... Did Max.... Did he rape you?”
Yes. For God’s sake, yes!. She’d said no, tried to fight back and he took her anyway. He hated her and wanted her to know just how much. Yes. Rape!
She wanted to scream it from the rooftops, the veils of her own denial ripped away from her with Max’s words and angry actions. But something inside her stopped short of screaming, “Yes! Max raped me!”
Michael’s eyes.
His vow to protect her. It wasn’t some idle thing he’d made up to piss her off. When Michael told you he had your back, whether you wanted it or not, that’s exactly what you got. And if he failed...
Michael was the protector. His singular purpose in life. On this journey or anywhere. If he felt he failed... it would kill him. He’d retreat even further inside himself and Liz couldn’t be the one to do that.
“No.” Liz lied shaking her head, “He didn’t...he tried... You..stopped...”
Michael continued holding her face, she could se his eyes searching for her lie. She steeled herself. He had to believe he’d saved her. He did, just not the way he would have wanted.
“Liz...” he insisted.
“No, Michael. He didn’t.” she lied firmly, pushing back the shaking in her voice she knew would betray her.
She let out an involuntary breath when Michael nodded his head, accepting her answer. It was her act of protection for him. Michael had to believe he’d stopped Max from the ultimate betrayal. He could never know.
Michael’s hand left her face and he pulled away from her, putting his hand on the door. Missing the safety she felt in his arms, Liz lunged out grasping at his shirt pulling, pulling him back to her.
“Don’t leave me alone,” she pleaded, knowing she sounded desperate, but fuck it, she was. She’d just been raped by the man she loved. She didn’t want to be left alone with those thoughts. No one would. “Please, Michael.”
His large hands wrapped around hers at his shirt, “I’m not leaving you alone, Liz.” he insisted softly, “I just want to make sure Max and Maria can’t....You’re safe in here.”
“Michael!” she cut him off with a hoarse cry, tightening her grip on his shirt.“Don’t leave me alone!”
She watched his brow furrow. He didn’t like to leave loose ends and the stumbling duo behind him were all too loose. Even in his anger at them, he needed to be assured of their safety. Ever the protector.
His face softened and he nodded. Max and Maria would have to fend for themselves. They’d created this mess, now they had to wallow in it. She needed him more. Needed his protection and comfort if he could give it.
He took her hands away from his shirt once she’d been reassured, “Okay Liz. Just let me lock this door from the other side. Okay?”
Liz nodded reluctantly, understanding that he wanted to make sure Max couldn’t break the seal he was about to put on the van’s door. She let go of his shirt, holding his eyes.
“I’m gonna get in on the driver’s side, okay Liz? Don’t open the door for any reason. You got me?”
Liz nodded and Michael shut the van’s sliding door. A bright glow emanated from the open spaces quickly fading as he seemed to create a solid bond. He placed a hand on the window in reassurance and walked around to the front. Liz followed him the whole way, never losing sight of him. She crawled up to the passenger seat intending to meet him when he entered the van.
A hoarse scream came for her throat when a pair of arms wrapped around Michael’s neck, the red tips of the fingers signaling his attacker’s identity. Maria.
“What the fuck is going on?” Maria screamed into his ear as he attempted to throw her off.
“Get off Maria!” Michael hollered, turning to face the angry girl, “Max hurt Liz!”
“And you’re taking her in the van?” Maria spat. Her fists once again spinning wildly at Michael sometimes connecting, sometimes missing completely, “She’s my best friend. You can’t take her away too!”
“I’m not taking her anywhere! Dammit Maria! Stop!”
Liz couldn’t take it. She’d never heard Maria get this bad. Yes she’d heard the occasional slap, seen the smack to the head, but tonight... it was too much. Too angry. Too painful. She’d seen Michael’s blood and bruises and knew Maria had crossed a line as well. Too scared to realize the irony in saving Michael, but had been unable to save herself.
She scrambled across to the driver’s side and flung the door open. Michael’s head whipped around to admonish her and she yelled at him to duck. Seeing Liz’s hand extended, he obeyed sinking swiftly to his knees.
Liz let loose a small amount of energy at her friend sending her stumbling back a few feet, falling onto her backside. She hadn’t hurt anything but Maria’s pride...and their friendship.
Michael stood up slowly facing Liz with wide eyes. She’d just forsaken her best friend... for him.
“Get in.” Liz insisted.
He nodded stepping inside the van and shutting the door, sealing it with his powers. The sounds of their heavy breathing, and the pounding of their pulses in their ears were all they could hear. Was this really happening? Had it come to this?
The severity of their situation hit home with Liz and she began to shake again, her eyes spilling tears of agony.
“Michael...” she wept unashamedly.
Her eyes were clouded, but Liz could swear she saw tears forming in Michael’s. It was too much, even for him, to remain emotionless.
“Come here.” he whispered opening his arms for her.
Not needing to be told twice Liz scooted from her seat and began to make her way to Michael’s arms. To safety.
Glass shattered behind her and she screamed instinctively as Max’s bloodied hand waved in the air, trying to grip anything on her. Would the terror never end?
“Liz!” he hollered angrily.
“Fuck this!” Michael muttered waving a hand over the ignition of the van, the engine roaring to life. “Hold on!” he ordered her.
Liz gripped Michael’s arm still trying to avoid Max’s grasp as Michael threw the van into gear and stomped on the gas, Max’s arm rapidly retreating from the window as they sped away, his drunken cries of Liz’s name following.
Liz kept her grip on Michael as they sped out of the campground coming upon its entrance and to the dissecting road. Michael slammed on the brakes, and they both stared out at the road.
He turned towards Liz, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths, “We can hide out somewhere for the night Liz. They can’t get far on foot and drunk.”
Liz nodded, “Okay.” Yeah that was a good plan. They could figure out what to do in the morning.
“Or...” Michael added staring out at the road, before returning his gaze back to her, “I can keep driving.”
Was he serious? Keep driving? As in leave Max and Maria? Abandon them?
“Stay or go, Liz?” he asked her all too seriously. It was her choice, “What’s it gonna be?”
His boot clad foot hit the pedal before the command left her mouth.
His heart thundered against the walls of his chest, knuckles were stark white against the steering wheel. He didn’t feel the pain. Just the rush. The blood roaring in his ears. Blood. Oh god the blood on Liz... And she hadn’t been responding.
What the hell just happened? Liz said Max didn’t rape her...
Liz bent over the table Max moving angrily behind her. Tears... Fear...Pain?
She had looked hm in the eye. She swore...
“Michael!” She screamed. So desperate. So scared.
She was covered in blood. And bruises... forming on her thighs. She stared out the window wide eyed, trying vain to cover them with her skirt. And her corset... gone... most likely back in the dirt... But she said he didn’t rape her.
I wasn’t done with her...!” Max growled. His pants were undone...
He pressed his foot down on the gas a bit harder.
“I said, No.”
~*~
Waves smashing against rocks. A scenic rest stop their momentary home. Two hours. God he was tired. It had been a long night. For now this was home. Not that Liz noticed. Still catatonic. Stoic. Unmoving.
He moved, wincing. Oh yeah. He had bruises of his own. Scratches. Drying blood.
His hands felt permanently curved around the steering wheel. Wanting to let go and search out the first aide kit...if they had one. Fuck. Max was a reincarnated Florence Nightingale. Why did they ever need a kit?
He took his hands away from the wheel. Cramping. Flexing. They needed a plan. Can’t stay here. Max and Maria would sober up. Find transportation. Look...Hunt them down. But tonight, they were safe. Max and Maria were still drunk. In no shape to pursue. Feel. Know what they did.
He glanced sideways. Liz’s wounds needed cleaning. So did his. Better find the kit.
He crawled out of the driver’s seat and opened the compartment where they stored their plates, glasses and utensils. They had to have a damn kit. They couldn’t always depend on Max. Now, not ever.
His hand brushed over a flat plastic box. Pulling it out he sighed heavily. Red cross. Opened it. Well stocked. Thank...whomever.
With a backward glance he checked on Liz. He knew she hadn’t moved. He would have heard. All he could here was breathing. At least she was still alive. Physically.
She needed clothes. Hers were dirty and bloody. He looked down at himself and smirked, grimacing as he reopened the wound on his lip. He wasn’t in much better shape. Thanks Maria.
He shuffled around the back of the van where they kept their clothing. He found his bag, full of clothing that hadn’t seen a washer in a long time. Great. Nothing clean. Fuck it. He could live with dirty for now. Liz. She needed to be clean.
He cursed under his breath. Her bag was at camp. Along with her soul he imagined. Damn. He made his way back to the front of the van, kit in hand. He knew it would be risky to try and help, given her current state, but he could take whatever came. She needed help.
She moved. A shiver. The body’s reaction to cool night air. He set the kit down and unbuttoned his shirt. No, it wasn’t clean, but it was warm. And its dark color hid blood he’d spilled on it. He had a tank on underneath. He’d be fine. She needed warmth.
He shrugged the shirt off, plotting his next move. Everything deliberate. Don’t scare her. Kneeling next to her, he reached a hand out slowly. Frowning when his fingers shook. Focus. Be strong. She needs strength.
He moved his hand’s path slightly to the right when he saw the dark, angry bruises on her wrist, the blistered skin above the marks...
Her wrists were pinned to the table. Max’s hand glowing over it. Fingers twitching as though she were being burned...
She said he didn’t rape her. But he still hurt her.
“Liz?” Soft. Gentle. Nonthreatening. Yes. From him. She needed soft.
Fingers still shaking slid over her arm. Muscles beneath, tensed immediately and her head whipped away from the window. Eyes still wide. Anger. Confusion. Bad move.
“Don’t touch me!” she screamed, ripping her arm away, “Don’t you ever fucking touch me, Max!”
Her arms flailed wildly. Striking out. Fighting back. Doing what she couldn’t at camp.
He raised his arms, protecting his head from the blows she rained down on him. This wasn’t like Maria. He could take these. Forgive them. She was defending herself.
“No! No! No!” she screamed.
“Liz!” he called out from beneath his arms, “Liz! Its Michael! I won’t hurt you!”
“No! Never again! No Max!” she screamed again. She didn’t hear. She didn’t know.
Michael kept his arms up, fending off her blows, but peeked his head out. She had to see his eyes, “Liz!”
“No!” she wailed angrily, “No baby, Max! No..No..Ma...” she trailed off.
The blows stopped and he brought his arms down. Her eyes were glassy, the anger gone, “Liz?”
A sharp gasp left her throat . A hand flew to her mouth, “Oh God...Michael.. Oh God...”
“It’s okay Liz.” he saw the recognition. The guilt. Shit. She was gonna blame herself for hitting him, “You didn’t know.”
She shook her head violently, “Oh God... I hit you! I hit you!...I’m so sorry...I Oh God...”
He shook his head, rising on his knees, “Stop it.”
She shrunk back against the door, putting her hand up, “No. I hurt you. Don’t forgive me. Too much forgiveness.”
He knew it was a risk, but she needed to calm down. He took her hands in his own, avoiding her burns and bruises, “Stop it.”
Firm almost commanding, but no threat. He was okay. She had to see that.
Silence. Waves crashing behind them. She shook. Cold? Fear? Anger?
Reaching down he picked his shirt up off the floor, handing it to her, “You’re cold. Wear this.”
Liz shook her head, “N-No. You’ll freeze.”
“I have more clothes. You don’t.”
“I...” she looked down at her dirty, bloody outfit, “Camp?”
Michael nodded, “We’ll figure it out, Liz. Just put this on. Okay?”
She bit her lip and sat forward, taking the shirt from his hand, “Thanks... um... Could you um...?”
Could he what? A quick glance down at her own tattered shirt, alerted him. Hello. Earth to dumbass. Turn around.
“Right. Sorry..I’ll just...” he stuttered, swiftly turning around.
Her heard the rustling sounds of fabric and caught a piece of her dirty blouse on the floor. Her breathing grew labored, frustrated, “Shit.” she hissed, “Michael?”
He heard desperation in her hoarse voice. Something was wrong. Without thought, he whipped around. She was swallowed in his large black shirt, but it lay slightly open, only the bottom button was done. He saw her fingers shaking violently over the next button up. Hardly useful. She couldn’t button it.
“Here. Let me.” he said reaching out slowly.
Liz nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. Michael saw the defeat. She hated being weak.
His fingers weren’t much better, initially trembling, but he willed them still. He slipped each button in place, feeling her shaky breath on his hands as he made his way up. He narrowed his eyes and ground his teeth as he caught sight them. Four little, dark smudges decorating the curve of her breast. Jesus. How hard had Max...
Fuck. Liz flinched as he jerked the fabric closed. Not her fault. Jesus those bruises...
“Sorry.” he muttered, his apology.
His hands traveling up to the collar, folding it down, his fingers accidently brushing the skin of her neck, marred by more dark, mouth shaped bruises. He tried not to notice the breath she took in at the touch and downcast his eyes. Stupid. She didn’t want to be touched.
“Its okay...” she told him and he brought his head up to meet her eyes, the faintest of smile’s appearing at her mouth, “Thanks.”
Another tear slid down her face and she wiped it away smearing the dried blood on her cheek. She glanced down at her stained hand, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
“Uh...You have a pretty nasty cut over your eye.’ he told her brushing her tangled locks from her face to reveal the wound, “I could clean it up.”
She glanced down at the kit by his knee and nodded, “Old fashioned way, huh?”
Michael grinned. She was trying to show some humor. Trying to be normal, He moved slowly, tearing a clean section of Liz’s discarded blouse and wetting it with some bottled water he’d found in the back. He dabbed her cheek gently, no harsh or sudden movements, “Yeah well, I don’t exactly trust either of our powers at the moment, so Dr. Love is on call.”
For the briefest of moments, a giggle escaped her lips. And God did it sound good. But as quickly as it came out she clamped her hand over her mouth. Did she think she wasn’t allowed to laugh?
A muffled burst of air escaped her hand, only this time it wasn’t a tamped laugh. Tears spilled from her eyes. Oh God, here it came. She had to break some time. What the hell was he supposed to do?
Michael saw her fighting to not cry. Not break down in front of him. Is that what they’d come to? No weakness before each other. Screw that.
Michael set down the first aide kit and took Liz’s hand away from her mouth, “Let go.”
Her whole body seemed to fall with her face. She took in a great breath in a last ditch effort to suppress her agony. Michael reached his other hand up to her newly cleaned face, “Dammit Parker. Let go.”
And agonizing wail left Liz’s body. Almost inhuman, the amount of pain and torture it held. He pulled her hand forward wrapping her limp frame in his arms as sobs shook her body. Her tears splashed onto his shoulder wetting his skin, the salt seeping into the scratches.
He didn’t try to quiet her or reassure her everything was okay. It wasn’t. What happened to her...them... was shitty. Beyond shitty. Making a left turn onto Seriously Fucked Up Avenue. She need to get this out. Fall apart. Feel the pain.
“Oh God...Oh God... Oh God...” she whispered between sobs.
God. That fucker. What? Was he pissed that Liz had cheated death so he punished her...with this? Her “angel” and “savior” now her attacker. Her pain.
“Asshole” Michael hissed at the heavens. Max or God. It was all the same.
~*~
Michael woke up with a start. Sitting up sharply, rubbing his eyes. He felt too light. The weight on his chest was gone. He squinted his eyes against the morning sun and scanned the van. Shit. Where’s Liz?
“Liz?” he called out, having only a seagull return his cry...
After she’d broken down in his arms, he’d gently carried her to the back of the van where, thankfully a few blankets were still with them. The were both so weak and tired. She gripped at his tank collar when he set her down on one of the blankets. The pleading look in her eyes, ‘Don’t leave me.’
“I’m just getting my bag. I need something to put my head on.” he’d explained.
She reluctantly let him go, keeping a hand on his back for reassurance. Michael stretched and snatched his bag, settling it behind him. He laid back wrapping Liz up at his side, her tears continuing to soak his shirt.
He should have been cold. Sure it was summer, but seaside tended to get cold at night. But with Liz pressed against him, her body heat was enough. He was disconcerted when she kept shivering. He rubbed her arms with his palms trying to create more warmth for her, to no avail.
“Too cold inside.” she managed to say through chattered teeth and hitched breaths.
“Oh.” he answered with understanding, “Liz... What really...”
“I told you.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Please don’t.... I need you to believe me.”
A heavy sighed escaped his lips. Don’t push, “Okay.”
Silence. Even breathing dancing off his skin. Sleeping?
“Michael?”
Guess not, “Yeah?”
“Where are we? I hear waves.”
“Don’t know.” he answered honestly, “But I’m pretty sure we we’re headed east.”
“I like the ocean.” she said sleepily. He could feel her lashes swooping against his shirt.
“Why?”
“Waves.” she yawned, “They remind me that while our world stopped, the one around us hasn’t.”
He furrowed his brow. Profound in the face of trauma. So not all was lost in the land of Parker.
He covered the idly moving hand she’d laid on his stomach with his own, stopping her from finding out he was ticklish.
“Where are we going?” she asked, speech slurred by fatigue.
“Don’t know that either. But I’ll figure it out.”
“I know.” she breathed, falling into sleep, leaving him to contemplate the sheer confidence she held in him, even in sleep.
He would love to have claimed a decent night’s rest, but it would have been a lie. Liz twitched and whimpered, sometimes outright sitting up and screaming. Every time came her cries of “No Max!”
He’d hold her and settle her down, trying desperately to fight invisible demons. His own put on the back burner. Maria. Max. And his own sinking feeling that he hadn’t kept his promise to her.
“Liz!” he called out as he threw open the van door. Where the hell was she? Why hadn’t she woken him up?
He shivered as the cool morning air began to seep into his skin. He looked up at the sky, not a spec of blue in sight and small drops of rain were splashing onto him.
“Liz!” He called out again, head whipping around wildly to catch any sign of her around the rest stop.
He froze when his eyes settle on a set of rock at the bluffs edge. There were scuff marks on it. New ones. Fresh. He felt his heart drop to his stomach.
No way. No way in fucking hell! Parker wouldn’t just... She wouldn’t check out like that! She still had fight in her!
No Max! No! No! No!
Why the hell wouldn’t she? The man who claimed to set the world on fire for her... He violated... No. She said he didn’t. But last night she was so broken...So scared.
“Aw Christ...” Michael breathed.
He shuffled to the edge, his knees buckling as he reached the scuffed rocks. Peering over the edge, he saw no signs of Liz. No blood, no ripped shirt, no body at the bottom being beaten by waves. But the tide could have taken her out.
He felt tears sting his eyes. She’d checked out. Left him alone. He didn’t protect her and now she paid with her life.
“Dammit Parker!” he growled, wiping roughly at his eyes, “You fucking gave up!”
“Gave up what?” a female voice asked behind him.
His eyes widened and he spun around on his knees, staring up at her. She was standing right there in front of him. Holy shit. She didn’t jump.
He rose off his knees and grasped at her shoulders, “You didn’t... You didn’t do it!”
“Do what, Michael?” Liz asked her teeth chattering, arms hugged around her body.
He looked over his shoulder at the scuff marks on the rocks, realizing it had probably been just a bird taking off from its perch on the rock, “Nevermind.” he shook his head at her.
It was then he took the time to notice that Liz was cold, shivering and wet. Soaking wet from head to toe. He looked her over and then took in their surrounding. It had only just started raining. The ground hadn’t even come close to being saturated and yet she was dripping.
“Why are you wet?” he asked insistently, disturbed by the way his shirt hung on her body, laden with water and her lips were tinged blue.
Liz shrugged, “No reason.”
He watched fresh blood trickle down her face from the water re-opening the cut over her eye. Michael narrowed his eyes, “Liz...”
“I...” she avoided his eyes, “I needed to be clean.”
Michael studied her. She was far too wet. And this particular rest stop only offered portable toilets. So where the hell had she been?
A particularly large wave crashed against the rocks and his stomach sank again. He reached down taking the edge of the shirt Liz was in and squeezed some of the water into his hand bringing it to his lips. He spit the salty water out immediately, “Liz? Where did you go?”
“Nowhere...” she lied.
“Liz.” Michael warned again. Patience Guerin. Exercise it.
“There’s a trail.” she nodded back with her head, “Leads to a pool where the water... I just needed to be clean.”
Michael shook his head, “That water is freezing? Are you nuts?”
He immediately regretted his words as he watched her shivering form, flinch slightly at his tone and words.
“I just wanted to be clean.” she repeated softly.
He tipped his head back. Of course she wanted to rid her body of Max’s touch. Of course she wanted to be clean. But..., “Dammit.” he muttered.
“I didn’t man to scare you.” she chattered.
He brought his eyes back to her. Shit. He needed to get her dry and warm. She was a changed human, but she could still get sick. And from the blue on her lips, who knew how long she’d been down there. It was fairly obvious she was in the throes of hypothermia.
Just fucking peachy. He thought he’d lost her over the cliffs, instead he’d have to contend with possible pneumonia.
“You’re making it really difficult to keep you alive.” Michael grumbled as he passed his hand over the soaked shirt trying to dry it with his powers.
“You know.” she shivered, “Drying me off in the rain defeats the purpose.”
“You’re a walking ice cube and you’re busting my balls?” he almost smirked, “C’mon.” he ushered her inside the van.
He wrapped a blanket around her, sending a rush of heat from his hand through it. Liz still shivered, but it was dying down and her lips began to return to their reddish color.
He snagged the first aid kit taking out a bandage to place over her eye, when his stomach rumbled loudly.
“We need to get food.” Liz observed.
“Yeah well, that requires money. Not something we have.” he pointed out as he placed the bandage carefully over her wound.
“How about a destination?” she winced when he put too much pressure on the gauze, “Any ideas?”
“One.” he answered, shutting the kit.
“And?” she asked, annoyed by his coyness.
“Boston.”
“No.” she shook her head violently, “That’s the first place Max will look...and I can’t see Isabel right...”
He held up his hand, “Kyle. Kyle is in Boston too, Liz.”
Liz clamped her mouth shut, biting her lip in thought, “But he and Isabel talk...He’ll tell...”
“Not if we ask him not to.” he corrected, “And you know that.”
Liz hung her head in shame, “I don’t want him to see me like this.”
Michael tipped her head up with his long finger, “You think I do? I just got the snot kicked out of me by Maria. Not exactly doing wonders for my ego, but we don’t have a lot of options and Kyle is our friend. He’ll help.”
He still saw the doubt in her eyes. She was ashamed.
He sighed, “You don’t have to tell him what happened.”
There was another pause for thought, interrupted by her own stomach rumbling. She nodded, “Okay.. But we can’t stay long. I don’t want to intrude on his life, Michael.”
“Right. A couple days. It’ll take that long for Max and Maria...” he watched her tense, “A couple days and then we’re gone.”
On her nod they cleaned up the van a bit and started out on the road. To Boston and hopefully a friendly face.
~*~
They pulled up to the small brick house on Blarney Lane two hours later. They saw a beat up truck in the driveway a few tools strewn about it. Kyle. Ever the mechanic.
Michael looked over at Liz, seeing her eyes wide. She was nervous. He was too. His heart had quickened the closer they got. He was sure Kyle would help them no questions asked, but it had been a year since he’d left the group. Months since they’d even talked on the phone. Yeah he’d help, but would he resent them for it?
“You ready?” Michael asked her.
“No.” she laughed nervously, “But I have to be. Don’t I?”
He nodded and exited his side. Without thought he jogged over to Liz’s side of the van, helping her out. She didn’t pull away or even try to refuse his help. Instead she instantly gripped his hand, leaning into his body.
It didn’t escape Michael’s notice that she was still having some difficulty walking and at the moment, couldn’t bring himself to ponder exactly how or why. Just get her inside so she can rest. Recoup. Whatever she needed to start breathing again.
He slipped his arm around her waist in support. He knew she didn’t want to appear weak, but he could feel it. She was. More than she wanted anyone to know.
They reached the door and both took a cleansing breath. He glanced down at her and she nodded. He raised his hand to knock on the door, but it flew open before his knuckles met the wood.
Liz immediately tensed in his arms, an audible gasp escaping her body at the figure on the other side.
“N-No...” Liz rasped trying to retreat, but Michael held her in place.
“Shhh...Liz its okay....Please... Calm down.” Michael pleaded trying to get her to meet his eyes, but they were fixed on the woman in the doorway.
“Oh my God!” Isabel nearly screamed, “Michael? Liz? What happened... Where’s Max? Oh God....”
“No! We need to go, Michael!” Liz struggled in his arms.
“Michael! What happened?” Isabel demanded, her breathing labored with panic, “Where’s my brother.... And Maria? Michael!”
“Dammit, Isabel!” Michael growled, “Let me get Liz... Just shut up for second!”
“No!” Isabel argued, “You tell me...” she paused, “Oh Jesus... Max is dead isn’t he? They’re dead! That’s why you’re here! Oh God!”
“No...” Michael bit out, “They aren’t dead!”
He turned his attention to Liz, his voice calm, reassuring, “Please. You have to calm down, Liz. Isabel won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Liz shook her head vehemently, but struggled less to get out of Michael’s arms. He was getting through. Just not fast enough.
“Michael! Where are Max and Maria? Answer me!” Isabel demanded.
“What the hell is all the... Oh Christ!” Kyle came up behind a shaking Isabel. His eyes widened with disbelief as he saw Liz and Michael, battered and bruised on his front porch, Liz shivering and struggling in Michael’s arms to get away.
“Michael!” Isabel screamed.
“Shut up, Isabel!” he spat. He was more than willing to explain things but he had to get Liz to relax, to trust him, and Isabel going on about where Max was, wasn’t helping matters.
“Did the FBI... Did they take him...? God...Not again...” Isabel cried, despite Kyle’s arm around her shoulders and gentle whispers to calm down. “No Kyle! Max and Maria are gone! I want to know where my damn brother is!”
“No FBI!” Michael told her, turning his back on them to get Liz to focus on him, “Hey... Parker... Come on...” He let her out of his arms taking her face in his hands, “Stay with me here. It’s Isabel. She’s not Max.”
“Liz...Listen to Michael.” Kyle called out to his old flame. He was shaken. She was so scared. So battered. And as anxious as he was to hear what happened, he was with Michael. They had to get her calmed down.
“If it’s not the FBI then tell me where Max is, Michael!” Isabel continued. She couldn’t see past her own fear to recognize Liz’s, “What happened? Did you just leave them...? Why would you...? Who hurt you? Is Max hurt...Maria...?”
Kyle shifted taking a step outside the door and away from Isabel. He saw Liz’s hands gripping Michael’s wrists, his hands still on her face. She was calming down... He noticed her wrists then...Bruised... and blistered? What could have...?
“No, Michael...” Liz pleaded, “She’ll tell... He’ll find us...They’ll find us...I can’t go back...I can’t see him...”
Kyle finally took in their clothing. Liz swathed in one of Michael’s shirts. Michael in his battered jeans and worn tank top. They had to have left in a pretty big hurry.
But Michael said it wasn’t the FBI.
He wouldn’t answer Isabel about Max or Maria.
And Liz didn’t want to be there. Her fear was aimed in Isabel’s direction. So much so that Michael had to take his sister out of Liz’s line of site.
“She won’t tell, Liz. I won’t let her.” Michael said confidently, “Even if she does. We’ll run. I’m not going to let him near you again. I swear. Please.”
Him?
Why would Liz be afraid of Isabel? Unless she was afraid Is would protect... Oh God... It had come to this. Michael had bruises and scratches on his body too. Long jagged nail marks...Teeth marks on his neck... Defensive wounds on both he and Liz... Oh Jesus...It had progressed to this. His worst fear for them had come true.
~*~
Kyle sat under a large elm at one of the many rest areas they stopped at on their journey. Max had ‘allowed” them to splurge on truck stop burgers and potato chips. He’d been content to watch a family in their plush RV take the family dog out for a walk when the tranquil moment was brought to a halt under another tree a few feet away.
Smack
“Ow!”
“Spaceboy! You know I hate pickles!”
“So pick them off!!”
“That’s not the point! You’re supposed to be taking care of me!”
“I think in the realm of burger condiments, you’re on your own, Maria!”
Good to see Guerin still had some fight in him. But Kyle furrowed his brow in concern after Maria walked away in a huff and Michael reached up to his smacked head wincing. How hard had she hit him?
SMACK
Kyle was jolted from his slumber on the back seat of the van. Isabel, Max and Liz in a local convenience store buying the group drinks, while Maria had taken the opportunity to once again punish Michael for a yet unknown grievance.
“What was that for?” Michael asked through his teeth, at the seemingly random act of violence Maria had visited upon his head.
“That was for not defending me last night!”
“I can’t deck someone every time some drunken moron touches your ass!”
“Oh, but you can do it for Liz?”
“The asshole had her pinned in a corner, Maria. What was I supposed to do?”
“Liz has powers. She can handle...”
“Why would Liz suddenly go stupid and use her powers in public, Maria? Think for one damn minute would ya?”
“My ass is supposed to mean more to you! I’m supposed to mean more to you, Michael!” she threw open the van door exiting with a frustrated growl.
“Yeah, I guess that’s the problem.” Michael muttered, as Maria slammed the door behind her.
Kyle opened his eyes as though just waking and watched Michael force a smile.
“Did I miss anything?” he asked hoping Michael wouldn’t see through his little white lie.
Michael shook his head, “Just another storm front. Go back to sleep.”
CRASH
Kyle was jolted from his daily meditation, on the lawn under the kitchen window. A bitter, high pitched growl preceding the sound of glass striking the kitchen cabinet above Michael’s head. He jumped to his feet, peering into the kitchen, stunned by what he saw. Michael, the normally stoic alien, crouched slightly on the floor trying to avoid the shards of glass that had rained down on him. A hiss escaped his lips as his hand reaches up to stem the blood flow from a new cut on his cheek.
“I hate this life! I hate it! I want to sing! I want to write music! I want to be on stage!” Maria raged from across the room at him, another glass in her hand ready to fire.
Michael rose to stand. His body rigid, blood still flowing from his cut, “So do it! Leave! I’m not holding you here!”
“Yes you are! God damn you! Yes you are!” she sniffled, approaching him with balled up fists, tears streaming down her cheeks, “I can’t leave you! I love you.” She struck his chest causing him to flinch and grab at her wrists. Kyle winced at the painful sight before him. Why did Michael let her do that? Especially after Hank..?. Abuse was abuse...
“No you don’t. This isn’t love, Maria!” He held her eyes, making her see the blood she spilled in her anger.
“You know I don’t mean it, Michael! I just get so... You know I love you!”
Kyle fought back the roll of his eyes. Guerin had to see through that. It wasn’t an excuse.
“Your love hurts...” he muttered, releasing her wrists in a small shove away from him. Kyle nearly pumped his fist in victory.
“I don’t know how to live without you. I’d be all alone!” She hugged her body, shuffling towards him.
Oh no. Not the victim routine. Don’t fall for that Guerin. You’d hurt less if you were alone. You know it.
Michael tipped his head back, tapping it against the cupboard door and Kyle’s stomach dropped. Maria had hit a nerve with him. He’d be alone too. Fuck, she always used that. Michael always excused it.
Kyle watched in agony as his large friend opened his arms to his abuser and she rushed into them, sobbing into his chest. No apologies for the damage she’d caused.
“I know you didn’t mean for us to have this life, Michael. But it has to get better... It keeps getting worse...”
And yet again it was Michael’s fault she hit him? Would it ever end?
“Yeah.” he nods, hissing as he touched his bloodied cheek again, “It sure fucking does...”
Kyle sank back down to his position on the lawn. Screw meditation. He couldn’t sit by and watch this anymore. Time to talk to Isabel... He heard Boston was nice this time of year...
~*~
Michael and Liz, battered. Dried blood. Scratches. Bruises. Liz scared of Isabel? No, not of her, but of where her loyalties lie... With Max.
“Dammit! Someone tell me what happened!” Isabel sobbed at Michael and a cowering Liz, “Who hurt you? Where’s Max and Maria?”
“Max and Maria did this to you,” Kyle stated quietly as he stared at the struggling couple in front of him. The realization of even a hint at what brought them to his doorstep, rendering his voice barely audible.
Michael paused, momentarily taking his focus off of Liz to whip his head around at Kyle’s statement. Eyes wide. No need to nod. It was confirmation enough for the other man.
“What?” Isabel breathed.
Kyle focused on the blonde in his doorway, hand clutching at her own chest. Had she heard him? If she did...what could she think? Would she believe her brother capable? He approached her carefully, an instinctual knowledge that Michael could take care of Liz allowing him to focus on Isabel.
“Is... Just please... calm down...”
“Calm down?” she raged backing up against the door as Kyle approached her, “What did you say, Kyle? You can’t believe...”
“Yes. I can. And so can you. Max and Maria did this to them.”
~*~
“No. Michael. Please...” Liz took Michael’s hands away from her face only to grip them in her own small hands as she began pulling him back to the van, “Please. We can’t stay. This was a mistake. Max will find us here. I can’t... Please let’s just go back to the van... Please...”
Michael wanted to argue. Hold her in place. Make her see that Isabel could be trusted. That the other girl would calm down. That Kyle would calm her down and they could explain the situation, but Liz wasn’t feeling rational. How could she after what happened? And the truth was, he wasn’t entirely sure they could trust Isabel either.
She’d known about Maria. Everyone knew, they were just kind enough to remain quiet about it and let him deal with it on his own. But Isabel hadn’t seen the past months with Max. His aggression towards Liz. His rising frustration. Culminating into previous night’s action, fueled by alcohol. Blood spilled by aggressors and vic...wounded, alike. No soul left unscathed, but Liz’s wounded the most.
“Okay Liz,” Michael relented. He couldn’t force her to face Isabel. He wouldn’t force her into anything. He let the petite girl pull him back to the van.
A look over at his shoulder told him Kyle would take care of Isabel, at the moment too busy tending to Liz to wonder what hell Isabel was doing at Kyle’s house on a Sunday morning... without Jesse.
~*~
“No.” Isabel shook her head, setting her jaw, “Max loves Liz. He wouldn’t hurt her.”
“We don’t know what’s really been happening the past year Is?” Kyle said calmly, pulling Isabel’s wringing hands into his own.
No.” She pulled away, “I talked to Max the other day... He said things were fine. That they were... they were going to visit soon. Michael and Maria were still fighting, but he and Liz...”
“Oh, and heaven for-fucking-bid, things should appear less than perfect in El Presidente’s cabinet.” Kyle said bitterly.
“Kyle...” she warned him.
He held up his hands, “All I’m saying is that it’s not beyond Max to put a nice spin on things because it suits him.” He ran a frustrated hand over his face, “You saw them Isabel. Michael said it wasn’t the FBI and Liz is scared out of her mind... of your loyalty to your brother...”
A tear slipped down Isabel’s cheek, her head still shaking in denial, “No Kyle... it has to be a mistake. Max wouldn’t hurt... not Liz.”
“You saw that cut on her eye.... Why the hell would she be afraid of you?” Kyle implored.
“She’s in shock... Whatever happened to her...? She’s clearly not thinking... I would never hurt her...”
“And somewhere inside her, she knows that.” Kyle agreed, “But it’s clear to me that she’s been hurt and she’s scared of Max. And right now she’s terrified of you telling Max where she is.”
“He’s her fiancé, Kyle. Love and cherish... not... He wouldn’t do that...” she stammered, her eyes falling to the van, watching Michael try to steady Liz.
Kyle once again reached out to her, this time meeting no resistance, “I don’t want to believe it either. But all I know is that two people I care about have shown up on our doorstep, hurt, scared and in need of some help. I want answers as much as you do, but we won’t get them if you can’t calm down.”
Isabel took a deep breath, “Max didn’t do this, Kyle.”
“Focus on Liz and Michael, Isabel. Please. Michael’s your brother too. Has he ever lied to you?”
“He didn’t say that Max did this...”
“I repeat.” Kyle said firmly, “He’s your brother too. Has Michael ever lied to you?”
Isabel worried her bottom lip, another wave of tears welling in her eyes as she watched the back of Michael’s head nod reassuringly at the tiny brunette next to him, his large gentle hand stroking her face. Michael, gentle with Liz?
“They hate each other. Michael and Liz,” Isabel reasoned.
Kyle looked over his shoulder at the once adversarial duo now sitting close together Liz seeking comfort in the larger man’s arms, “Yeah and look at them. Something huge went wrong Isabel. I want to know what it is. Please. You have to promise not to tell Max they’re here. It’s the only way we’ll get them to stay.”
Isabel continued to stare at her long haired brother, and the girl who would be her sister in ceremony. They needed help. Her help. They needed her protection...God, from Max if it was really true.
She met Kyle’s loving eyes and softened, nodding slightly, “Okay. You’re right. Besides I owe Michael for all them times he protected me. And Liz... if this is true...” her breath caught,
“They protected you because you were family, Isabel.” Kyle argued, “Not because it was their obligation.”
She squeezed his hand, “I know. C’mon, we need to get them inside before the neighbors get twitchy.”
~*~
Liz had opened the van’s side door pulling Michael inside with her, clutching at his shirt, her whole body still shaking.
“I’m sorry, Michael... But I just can’t stay here. Isabel... she would tell Max, you know that,” she tried to reason.
“No, Liz, I don’t know that.” Michael said softly, “I’m her brother too. I have to have a little faith that she’d stand by me too.”
“You don’t do faith.” Liz pointed out.
“When it comes to Is,” He nodded his head back at his sister, “I can afford it.”
“I wish I could.” Liz said with all seriousness.
Michael brought a hand up to her face, absently stroking some of the unmarred skin on her jaw line with his thumb, “So have some in Kyle. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you.”
Michael watched Liz’s eyes pass over to the other man standing in the doorway, calming Isabel down, doubt still lingering. He tipped her chin back to him, deciding to use his last tact with the fragile girl. Logic.
“We have no food. You have no clothes and we don’t have any money. We don’t have much choice here, Liz.” He sighed running a hand over his face, “I promise we’ll make it a short stop. Food, clothes a little cash and then we’re gone.”
Liz bit her lip, meeting his eyes, “But Isabel...what if Max calls?”
“Then Kyle and I will yank the phone away put duct tape over her mouth and tie her to chair.” he scratched his eyebrow, “Though knowing my sister, Kyle and I will be running down the street after our balls, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
Liz let out an involuntary giggle at the mental picture Michael had created, but quickly covered her mouth, “I just don’t know, Michael... I...”
“Please stay, Liz,” Isabel’s voice came from behind Michael. Liz gasped, jumping slightly, but his hands grasped her own, imploring her to hear the other girl out.
Isabel held her hands up in surrender, “I don’t know what happened to you...I want to... I want to understand. But right now, I just want to help. Please. Come inside.”
Liz looked to Michael desperately. He knew what she needed to hear and he turned to his sister, “If Max calls...”
“You aren’t here,” Isabel agreed quickly, her voice lacking the confidence she was trying to project. She watched helplessly as Liz began to inch further back into the van, “Wait. Please Liz. I promise. If Max calls, I won’t tell him you’re here. You’re safe.”
Liz read Isabel’s eyes. So much pain and confusion in the young woman’s eyes. Liz could sympathize with her. Only hours earlier she too believed Max Evans was incapable of the violence he’d committed against her. Yet here she was battered body and soul on the front step of her attacker’s sister’s home. Seeking refuge in the lion’s den.
But she also saw Isabel’s determination. It would kill her to mislead her brother, but she wouldn’t forsake her other family. Michael... and her. They were, for the moment, safe.
With a slight nod, Liz watched the other three let out great breaths of relief. Michael slid out of the van extending his hand to her and she took it willingly. The great shakes that had rattled her body only moments earlier now down to a slight tremor.
As she rose to stand, the weakness and pain she’d felt earlier returned and she wobbled slightly. Michael wrapped his arm around her waist and Kyle instinctively did the same on the opposite side. Isabel sucked in a breath, only just now seeing the extent to which Liz had been damaged.
“I got her.” Michael told Kyle, not with menace but making it clear he was her rock, her protector.
Kyle nodded pulling away slightly from Liz and taking Isabel’s hand as he led them into the house. He tightened his fingers in hers. Another dark thought entering his mind as to what happened to Liz. What could Max have done that would cause her to walk.... She’d been so afraid... So…betrayed?
He held the door open for the other three paying close attention to Liz as Michael helped her inside. He glanced down at her legs, closing his eyes as he saw the harsh finger shaped bruises on the back of her thighs, disappearing into Michael’s shirt. What could a man, Max, do to a woman, Liz, that would put her on his, Kyle’s, doorstep so completely shattered?
~*~
Once inside the house Michael looked around for the most comfortable place to set Liz down, spotting a couch he maneuvered them over towards it, furrowing his brow when she resisted.
“What’s wrong?” he murmured, felling stupid for even having to ask.
“I want to take a shower,” she whispered.
Michael nodded his understanding and turned them around, “Uh, could Liz use your shower...?”
“Of course!” Isabel nearly screeched, a warning look from Kyle told her to tone it down, now was not the time to fuss, “I mean, yes. Um, I’ll get you some towels... You can use the shower in the guestroom.”
Isabel disappeared down a small hallway and the others could hear the rapid opening and shutting of a closet door. A moment later she returned with an armload of towels for Liz.
“Which way?” Michael asked nodding towards the hallway she had come from.
“It’s the first one on the left...” Kyle explained, “The one at the end is ours.”
Michael nodded, not unfazed by the fact that Kyle had described the other bedroom as, “ours”, but deciding it was on the list of things to discuss later. Right now Liz needed that fucking shower. Something warmer than the salty bath she’s subjected herself to a few hours earlier.
“C’mon,” he whispered to Liz as her began guiding her to the bedroom only to be perplexed when she resisted once again. He furrowed his brow at her but kept a strong arm locked around her waist, even as her arm dropped away from his.
“I can go alone,” she placated, though hardly believing Michael was going to let her, “You stay here... fill in Kyle and Isabel on... what happened.”
“Liz...” Michael warned. He could feel she wasn’t physically fine. The way she leaned on him for her every step. She wanted to be alone to hide the damage, or the shame that came from her bruises. She wasn’t fooling him.
Liz placed an absent hand on Michael’s stomach, feeling the tense muscles beneath the cotton, “I just need some privacy, okay?”
She watched his jaw set, the arm around her waist pulling her closer for a brief moment before dropping slowly, letting her go with a reluctant nod. She wavered only slightly but straightened her knees, willing them to carry her the few short feet to the privacy she sought.
She closed her eyes as she reached the door, feeling other three watch her every move, waiting for the wrong twitch of a muscle to rush to her side instantly. It was somewhat reassuring to know that she would have six arms to brace her should she fall, but who would catch them if they ever realized what truly happened? She was barely strong enough to hold her head up, let alone support the sagging weight of other souls torn apart by the violence of what she had suffered.
No one spoke until Liz she shut the door behind her. Michael waited for the familiar glow of the door handle, but it never came. He couldn’t help but feel the relief. She wasn’t locking him out. She’d let him be there if she needed him.
“Sit down, man.” Kyle waved his hand at the overstuffed recliner behind Michael, “You have to be exhausted.”
Michael slumped down into the chair, far from relaxed, but allowing himself a little relief at finding sanctuary. He sank back into the leather his hand covering his eyes, “Exhausted would be a nice change of pace. No, I’m currently hovering somewhere near death.”
Isabel sat herself on the coffee table across from Michael so she could see his face, while Kyle took up residence on the couch beside his large friend. She reached a hand out to her haggard brother, resting it on his knee, pulling back immediately as he jerked away under her touch.
“Michael... What happened?” she asked him softly, but the panic of earlier creeping back into her voice.
He sighed heavily and sat forward. Words were not something he strung together well and this was the hardest conversation he knew he’d ever have.
“Liz and I... We came home from work last night... late... bar. You know the routine.” At Kyle and Isabel’s nod he continued, “Max and Maria weren’t around. They should have been asleep. So we looked for them. Found Max, drunk off his ass.”
“Drunk?” Isabel balked, “Are you sure? I mean Max doesn’t drink...Not after him and Kyle ...”
“Let him get through this, Is.” Kyle told her softly, but commanding. Michael needed to get the facts out in his own time. Questions, denial; that could all come later.
“Well, Max was drunk last night. I don’t know why and I don’t care. He just was.” Michael spat, “Sloppy, goofy, and defacing the wilderness. So Liz and I took him back to camp... I had to find Maria... I should have just fucking left her in the woods... But Liz told me she could handle Max... Fuck...if I’d known...”
“You couldn’t have known, Max would snap,” Kyle reassured his friend.
“Yeah, I did.” Michael corrected, “I knew he could... Would...Hell, I stopped him from... doing it...” He paused. What did he stop? Were Kyle and Isabel ready to hear what he’d suspected? How much did even he suspect? Would Liz lose faith in him if he told them…What...? He didn’t know. All he knew was frustration.
“I was the stupid asshole who left Liz alone with him to find Maria.” he growled, “Who was just sitting on a log singing to the goddamn moon!” He ran a hand roughly over his dirt smudged face, “Stupid...”
Kyle wanted to pat his friend on the shoulder, but had seen the way he’d pulled away from his sister. Wounds, instinct to pull away, whatever it was, Michael Guerin couldn’t stand to be touched, well by anyone but Liz.
“So...” Isabel wrung her hands trying to put the disjointed facts together, “Maria and Max were drunk... I mean that explains Max’s behavior...”
“No it doesn’t Isabel,” Michael said through his teeth, “It doesn’t explain a fucking thing. Maria... she just gets meaner when she’s drunk.” He absently gestured at his various scratches and bruises, “But Max... I never... She just kept screaming my name... Screaming... I promised her I’d protect her... I shouldn’t have gone after Maria. She ...slowed me down. I tried to get to Liz, but Maria kept hitting... Liz kept screaming...”
“How far did Max get, Michael?” Kyle asked slowly, barely able to believe he was asking this particular question. Yes, Max Evans was prone to acts of violence, but this...? “Did he rape her?”
“What?” Isabel stood sharply, eyes wide, “Kyle, how can you ask that?”
Kyle loved the woman in front of him, but even she couldn’t be that blind, “It’s not exactly a stretch, Is. Did you see the way she was walking...? Or more wasn’t walking when she came in the house...? She has bruise in places...”
Isabel shook her head, “No, Max loves Liz...” She began pacing, “Okay, so he got drunk...and maybe while Liz was trying to help him he got sloppy, she got hurt...”
She gasped loudly when Michael rose to his full height, eyes blazing, “He had her bent over the goddamn table Isabel!” he hissed, still mindful of Liz overhearing them, “He was using his powers to pin her arms! That’s not fucking sloppy...”
“The burns on her wrists...” Kyle whispered closing his eyes against the horror of what he heard. He opened his eyes again, “Did he, I mean... Christ, Michael... How far...?”
Michael ran a rough hand through his hair, “I don’t know... Liz says he didn’t get... She swore I got there in time, but...”
“But you don’t believe her.” Kyle finished.
“I don’t know what to believe.” Michael slumped back onto the recliner, “I’m not blind. I’ve seen most of her bruises....I keep going over it in my head...What did I really see Max doing... And then she swears...insists that he didn’t...rape her...”
“He didn’t,” Isabel insisted desperately, “H-He wouldn’t. He told me things were going fine. Tight for cash, but fine. He even said that Liz was close to picking a wedding date... Why would he r-rape her if things were fine?”
Michael snorted, “Liz and I just showed up on your goddamn doorstep after going a few rounds with, ‘just fine’, Isabel. You tell me who’s lying.”
“At the very least he tried, Isabel...” Michael argued, “Which in my book doesn’t make what he did any less... I was supposed to protect her!”
“Hey!” Kyle whispered harshly, finally reaching out to pat Michael’s back, and feeling the way Michael had tensed up. He was always wound tight, but this was more than usual. A spring under massive pressure with no way to release the tension inside, “Michael, man, you did protect her. You brought her here. She’s safe with us. You both are.”
“Are we?” Michael asked holding Isabel’s eyes, “I promised Liz we’d be safe here. You promised her if Max called...”
Isabel nodded adamantly, “I won’t tell him, Michael. I can’t believe he’d rape Liz, but she is hurt and even though he was drunk...” She held her hands up as Michael growled, “He did hurt her... and you.”
Michael looked down at his own wounds, “Mostly Maria.” he muttered.
They were drawn out of their conversation when they heard the shower shut off. Michael took a couple steps toward the bedroom when Kyle stopped him, “I’ll go. You sit. Isabel can make you a sandwich or something.”
Isabel nodded, relieved. Yeah, she could do a sandwich. That would take all their minds off of what had brought Michael and Liz to their doorstep. She linked her hand in Michael’s pulling him towards the kitchen.
“Liz will be fine with Kyle,” she insisted, “You know that.”
Michael nodded seating himself in the small breakfast nook in the sunlit kitchen, “I don’t know what Liz will eat... or if...”
“We’ll ask her when she comes out.” she said bustling around the kitchen taking out lunch meat and bread.
“We’re not staying long, Isabel,” he warned her, watching her stiffen at his abruptness.
“I want you to stay, Michael. Please. I miss my brothers,” she told him, not missing a beat on her assembly of the sandwich.
“I know that Liz is safe here, but that’s temporary,” he argued softly, “Max will show up here. This was our next stop anyway. Liz and I can’t be here when he is.”
“Michael,” Isabel breathed, setting the mayo down roughly on the counter, “How did things get this bad? I mean...”
She sucked in a sobbing breath and Michael rose from the table approaching his sister.
“You know when, Isabel. It was bad before you and Kyle left. Its why you and Kyle left.”
“No.” She shook her head, “I left because I missed Jesse...”
“Yeah, I see that worked out real well, seeing as you’re shacked up with Valenti.” he corrected.
“I... Kyle and I...we just...” she stammered.
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Is.” He reached out setting about to finishing assembling the sandwich Isabel had started for him, “You happy?”
Isabel felt a pang of guilt. She’s moved on. She missed her family, but Kyle made her happy. “Yeah.”
“Nuff said.” Michael shrugged. He saw the guilt in her stance, heard it in her voice. She didn’t think she deserved to feel happy after what had happened to him and Liz.
“You have to understand, Michael... Jesse and I spent so much time apart and I was close to Kyle...”
Michael turned and held his hand up, “Isabel. I’m not Max. You don’t have to explain. You’re happy with Kyle. I get that. It’s weird. But I get it.”
“Michael?” Isabel bit her lip, her brow furrowed. She had a question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered, but it had been plaguing her, since she’s seen them together in the van, “Were you and Liz…? I mean are you two...? I know that you and Maria...fight... but is part of the reason why Max...? Were you and Liz..?”
Michael’s eyes widened, “No!” he nearly yelled, taking a breath when Isabel shushed him, “No. Liz and I weren’t...aren’t...I mean up until... We can’t stand each other.”
“But she trusts you,” Isabel pointed out.
Michael nodded, “Don’t know why... I let Max hurt her...”
“You brought her here, Michael. She’s safe.” she reassured him, “You did the right thing.”
He bit his own lip, trying to keep it from trembling. He didn’t want to show weakness, but he was standing in front of Isabel. He could let go and she’d catch him. That’s what sisters did.
“She swore to me, Isabel. She said he didn’t... But he still hurt her. Why would he...? Fuck him for making me make that choice!” his voice shook, anguished, betraying his facade of stoicism.
Isabel stood back watching Michael battle his inner demons before her eyes. Breathing sharp and labored. He was fighting himself. Always Michael, never allowing himself a break to feel what had happened. She knew how his mind worked. Liz had been the one who’d been... violated... Hurt. Yes, Maria had banged him up, but Liz was so fragile right now. He always had to be the strong one.
He didn’t want to be the strong one. God he didn’t.
His lips tightened over his teeth and his eye shone with unwanted tears. His Adam’s apple worked up and down furiously trying to stem the emotion. He couldn’t hold it in. He had no outlet.
Muscles seemed to lock down, and his teeth ground against the raging sorrow inside him. His once darting eyes focused on a groove on the wooden floor of the kitchen. A focal point, deep black... so much like his life seemed now...Fuck. He turned his head sharply, a hiss escaping his lips at the pain the sudden movement caused him. More tears brimmed in his eyes. Much more and they’d fall..
Isabel’s own eyes filled with tears. None for Max, but for the brother standing before her in so much agony, but so afraid to show it. Slowly she brought her hand up reaching out, hoping Michael would meet her half way.
He stared down and his sisters long manicured fingers. Unmarred. Flawless. No bruises. No scrapes. Liz’s hands should have looked like that. Not chipped, scratched or dirty.
Wetness splashed on his cheek. No dammit. No tears. Another and another. A stream soon if he didn’t knock it off.
Screw coming to her. He needed someone to take control. To let him lose it, for five fucking seconds. She grabbed his hand pulling him into her arms before he could protest, “Michael...Let go.” she pleaded.
“Liz...Let go.”
A sob escaped his mouth as Isabel held him, repeating over and over, “You protected her...You protected her...” Unsure if she was reassuring the broken man in her arms, or herself.
She growled in annoyance when the phone rang and Michael tensed, pulling away and roughly wiping his tears away, clenching his jaw at losing his composure. She stared at him, almost seeing the hard shell she’d momentarily cracked, fortify. His eyes registering a moment’s guilt for his brief lapse in judgement. Can’t be strong if you’re a weeping wussy. She swallowed back her own sob at the sharp pain in her heart, that her brother couldn’t allow himself to breakdown for one moment, in front of her.
The shrill ring ripped through the silence again.
“You better get that.” Michael mumbled, taking the sandwich off the counter and stuffing a bite into his mouth, trying to nonchalantly brush any remaining wetness on his cheeks, passing it off as sweat. Sweat wasn’t a sign of weakness. Tears were.
Isabel sent him an apologetic glance at picked up the receiver, “Hello?... Wait... Max...calm down....What do you mean Michael and Liz are gone? What happened?”
Michael fought back a cough as his intake of breath sent his unchewed bite if sandwich into the back of his throat, his wide eyes staring back at Isabel.
Oscar time, Is.
~*~
Kyle knocked softly on the guestroom door, hearing a soft, “Come in.” from the other side. He gently pushed the door open, squinting his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. Liz had pulled the curtains closed, a bedside light the only illumination in the room.
He took in Liz’s slow moving form. She was wearing the pair of black cotton shorts Isabel had brought her, having to shrink them a bit with her powers and a pale blue tank top, bringing out the as yet unseen marks on her body.
“Oh...Kyle.. Hi...” she said, with mild disappointment. She hugged her arms, feeling a bit naked. She wanted to be wearing more.
“Sorry...” Kyle said softly, “Do you want me to get, Michael? He’s uh... in the kitchen with Isabel.. Are you hungry? I can have her make you a sandwich.”
“No.. “ Liz shook her head, “I...I’m not hungry..And Michael needs to eat... You can stay if you want.”
“Are you cold?” Kyle asked her watching her hug her arms around her body.
“A little.” she admitted. Yes it was sweltering outside, and even though the house was air conditioned, Kyle was sweating, but Liz’s chill came from inside.
Kyle went to the closet in the room, where he and Isabel kept their winter clothing, and pulled out one of his long sleeved t-shirts, handing it to her. He was a bit unnerved when she held it out and a small melancholy laugh escaped her lips. No real joy held in its tone. A momentary amusement.
“What?” he asked her, wondering what on earth could have brought the shattered girl in front of him, an albeit forced, smile. Not that the smile held any sort of conviction, but a smile from her at this point was bewildering to say the least.
Liz turned the t-shirt around reading the print on the front, “Fuckin’ For Buddha: How Big Are Your Chakra’s?”
Kyle’s face immediately reddened, “Oh shit...I’m sorry. Isabel got me that for my birthday last month.... I’ll get you something else...”
Liz shook her head and pulled on the shirt, “It’s fine Kyle. Michael could use the laugh.”
“Yeah.” Kyle’s chuckle immediately dying when Liz took a step forward, her face contorting in pain as she stumbled slightly.
Without thought Kyle rushed to her side, helping her sit down on the edge of the bed, “You okay?” he asked with concern, grimacing at the question. Of course she wasn’t okay. He knew she’d been raped. He knew she, for whatever reason, had lied to Michael. Probably to protect him, but she couldn’t fool him.
Being a sheriff’s son opened his eyes to the seedier side of life, even in Roswell. The battered wives and girlfriends that had made momentary stops in their home in between transportation to shelters. They all wore the telltale bruises, the shamed faces, the crossed legs, the flinching at the slightest movements. And now here sat a girl he once loved. His friend. Reading like a page from the textbook of spousal rape. And damn it, he felt dirty enough for the entire male race when she flinched at his touch.
“I-I’m fine, Kyle.” Liz stammered, looking away, embarrassed for having let her charade of good health be betrayed even for one moment.
Kyle tipped her chin towards him, seeing the tears in her eyes, “A lot of people have trouble walking and talking, Liz. You are not one of them. Wanna try that again?”
Liz sighed, taking her chin away from his fingers to stare down at her shirt, the fat Buddha on the black background smiling up at her, “Fine. I’m not okay. Michael’s not okay. Is that what you want to hear?”
“No,” he sighed, “I want you to tell me the truth.”
“What truth?” Liz asked looking up at him, “Max and Maria got drunk and things got out of hand. Michael and I ran.”
“Yeah. True,” Kyle placated, “but you’re leaving out a fairly big part here.”
Liz shook her head, “No. Kyle. Please. I just can’t... I told Michael all there was...”
“And I know that as much as you and Michael pretend to hate each other, you’d protect each other to the bitter end.” He scratched his head, knowing his next words could cause Liz to push him away from her forever, “You’re doing it now by not telling him that Max raped you.”
Liz gasped, bringing her hand to her mouth. She stared back at Kyle with teary eyes, shaking her head in an attempt to deny, but the knowing look on Kyle’s face coupled with the need to admit to someone...
“Oh God...” she whispered, leaning into her friend’s strong frame. Her tears fell in an unending stream.
“Michael needs to know Liz.” Kyle rubbed her back, “You can’t keep lying to him.”
Liz looked up sharply at Kyle, eyes wide, roughly wiping the tears from her eyes, “No. He can’t know Kyle. He’ll think he failed... It will kill him if he knew.”
“Liz...” Kyle began, his skepticism evident.
“Michael protected me, Kyle. He got Max off me and got me out of there. But you know him... He’ll think he failed. We’ve lost so much...” she hiccuped, “He needs to believe that he stopped Max. He needs to hold onto that and I won’t take that away from him.”
“And what happens if he finds out, Liz?” Kyle argued softly, gripping gently at her shoulders, “He already suspects and is holding onto denial by a thread. He’ll be devastated if you keep lying to him. Michael doesn’t trust people. And when you two leave here you’ll be all he has. He has to believe in you.”
“He also has to believe he can protect me, Kyle. It’s how Michael functions. Please,” she whispered, “Please promise me you won’t tell him.”
Kyle bit the inside of his cheek. He wanted to run and tell Michael. Tell him the truth so they could find Max together and beat the shit out of him. Buddha would certainly understand the momentarily lapse in the defense of a friend. But as much as he disagreed with Liz’s request, he couldn’t deny her either. He saw Liz’s logic. He knew in some way she was right. Michael would blame himself. He already did.
“Dammit Liz.” Kyle hung his head in defeat.
“Thank you.” she sniffled.
“But if he figures it out while you’re here, I won’t lie, Liz.” Kyle insisted.
She nodded, “That’s fair.”
“I’m sorry.” Kyle whispered, his eyes filling with tears, “I’m so sorry he hurt you.”
“Me too.” Liz felt the tears spill over as she let herself get wrapped in Kyle’s arms and gentle freindship.
Their quiet moment was interrupted by the shrill ring of the phone. Liz tensed immediately. A deep sense of foreboding carried in the ring. She pulled slightly away from Kyle, fear evident in her eyes.
“Isabel will get it.” he reassured her.
After another ring, Liz and Kyle heard Isabel’s voice drift in from the kitchen... “Hello?... Wait... Max...calm down....What do you mean Michael and Liz are gone? What happened?”
Liz gripped at Kyle’s collar and he felt her body trembling against him. Fear. Sheer terror. But of what? Max’s call? Or the uncertainty of Isabel’s promise to keep hers and Michael’s whereabouts from her brother?
“Come on baby,” Kyle muttered, his own breathing growing labored with Liz’s, “Do the right thing.”
Isabel willed her breathing to slow as Max’s panic stricken voice came over the line. She stared over at Michael, his eyes wide, fists balled up.
“I mean Liz and Michael gone!” Max repeated, almost angrily, “Took the van and left!”
“Why? Max, please just calm down and tell me what happened.” Isabel implored, “Michael and Liz...? They wouldn’t just up and leave. There has to be a reason.”
There was pause on the other end. Isabel could hear Max taking a deep breath. Taxing his mind for a reasonable answer?
“Last night....” he began, and Isabel could almost see him pinching the bridge of his nose in thought, “Maria got drunk... she went after Michael...You know how Maria is...I guess Liz was trying to protect Michael...they left...”
“What were you doing, Max?” Isabel pressed, her mouth tightening at Max’s story...half truth, “Why weren’t you protecting Michael? Why was it up to Liz?”
“I was drunk too...Maria, she slipped some of her whiskey into my soda...I didn’t realize it until it was too late.... And you know what I’m like when.... I wasn’t much use...”
“But to leave? Max...” She took a deep shuddering breath, “Did... Did you do... anything to Liz while you were drunk?”
Silence. Not even a breath.
“Max?” She repeated more sternly.
“I don’t remember much, but... Is, I’d never hurt her... she’s my fiancee” He sounded distant, but rigid in his statement about Liz’s safety.
“Maybe not on purpose...” Isabel said weakly, feeling Michael’s glare on her. She hugged her body. Michael was asking too much of her to fully believe Max had deliberately...ra..hurt Liz.
“Maybe... Maybe she and Michael just drove into town, and are waiting for you two to sleep it off.” She’d sensed his tension. She’d been pushing too hard. Drawing suspicion. Had to back off.
“Yeah...maybe...” Max trailed off, “You mean they aren’t there?”
Isabel stiffened. Now came the lie. The big one. To flat out tell Max that his fiancee and their brother were not at her house. Standing beside her wearing the marks of his betrayal. She could lie, even convincingly, but this was Max. He always seemed able to see through her. And inherent sense. Sibling bond. But if that was true, why had she not believed him capable of what brought Michael and Liz to her doorstep? Or why had she’d denied that he was capable?
She felt Michael’s hand on her shoulder turning her around. His icy glare from moments earlier, replaced with one of concern. Had he seen her mental argument? The battle she waged within to outright lie to her brother of two lifetimes? Her eyes darted over to the movement in the living room. A wide eyed Liz leaning on Kyle, slowly shuffled into the room from the hallway.
Michael’s hand left Isabel’s shoulder and he strode into the living room, Kyle stepping aside the moment the alien had reached them. She watched in a suspended silence as it took only a gentle caress of his fingers against Liz’s cheek, to get her pain-filled stare away from Isabel. She watched his lips move, unable to hear what he was saying to the battered brunette.
“Isabel?” Max’s insistent voice broke through.
The cut over her eye....bruises...scratches. The fear. Of Max. All the pieces fit. And here she was waffling about whether or not to tell Max where his... victim was? What happened to the sisterhood? I am woman hear me roar? A once fierce princess, with one weakness... her man.
Jesus, what if she’d been in the same situation? What if Jesse had been abusing her? What if it was her standing in that living room with a cut over her eye and angry bruises all over her body? Would Liz so quickly dismiss her? No. She wouldn’t. She would accept at face value what was the painful truth. An now so would Isabel. Even at the cost of her brother and his shame.
“No.” He was not going to get a chance to do this to her again, “No, they aren’t here.”
“You’re sure?” Max asked. She could hear the skepticism in his voice. Time to turn it up.
“Yeah Max,” she bit out acidly, “I’m pretty damn sure I’d notice if Michael and Liz were in my house, seeing how its been a long time since I’ve seen my brothers, I’d be a bit excited at the prospect of seeing either one of you.”
Silence.
Isabel watched Liz visibly relax into Michael’s chest as he tightened his arms around her. She could feel everyone’s eyes burning into her. Did they doubt her? The fact that they didn’t trust her enough to automatically believe she would do the right thing. Of course she came through. But would Max believe her?
“You’d tell me if they were there wouldn’t you?” Max pressed. His voice almost pleading. Almost like it sounded when he’d confronted her about his knowledge of Vilandra all those years ago. Giving her a chance to tell the truth. Not this time. It was a lie, she could sleep better with.
Isabel let out her best annoyed sigh, “Of course I would, Max.” It was as if she was slipping into that old mask. The one that was so easy to lie to her parent’s, school friends, community... Now her brother. The one who’d helped her perfect them.
A small chuckle came over the line. He was laughing? “I can always count on you, Is.”
“Sure can,” she replied, her voice wavering with emotion as she glanced back at the couple huddled before her.
Michael held Liz. Liz held Michael. Leaning, but whom depended on whom. Arguably it could have easily been Michael standing there so strong for Liz, but why did it look as though he would collapse if he didn’t have Liz to take care of? Solidarity between Michael and Liz, was, odd to say the least. Constantly at odds. But Isabel could not deny the rightness of what was before her. They stood, holding each other up under the enormous strain of what had been done to them by the man...her brother, on the other end of the line. How could he not remember doing...that?
“Max?” she asked quietly, “Why wouldn’t they be in town?” She knew why, but Max couldn’t know that.
“I’m sure!” Max nearly shouted, causing Isabel to flinch. Kyle was by her side in an instant, holding her shaking hand in his own.
“I’m..sorry, Is.” Max apologized. She could here the tamped rage in his voice. He was losing control. She knew he hated that, “You know what? You’re probably right. They went into town and are waiting for us to sober up. It was really dumb. I’m gonna get rid of all of Maria’s stashes. Her... problem.... has caused enough problems in our lives. It was one thing when it was Michael, but now Liz...”
“Yeah...” Isabel breathed, “Probably a good idea. Where is she?” Of course he blamed it all on Maria. Handy scapegoat.
“Sleeping by the campfire... I should say passed out,” he let out an almost bitter chuckle, “Liz threw her on her ass last night.”
Isabel forced a laugh out hoping it sounded convincing, “Liz? I wish I could have seen that.” She paused, in a feigned attempt at regaining her composure, “So... What are you going to do now?”
She heard Max sigh deeply, imagining he was scratching his head in thought, “Well, I’ll wait here to see if Liz shows up. I’ll tempt fate and wake Maria up. If they aren’t here, in an hour, I guess... we can hitch into town and look for the van.”
“Um...Call me. If you find anything out.” Isabel said quickly.
“I will, Is. And you’ll tell me if they show up...when I call?”
“Right.” Isabel nodded emphatically as if he could see her, “But I really don’t see why they would. I mean...” Kyle squeezed her hand. She was rambling. Rambling always meant she was lying. Max would know that. “Be careful.”
What happened to the boy that healed the bird in grade school? Purposely lost chess matches to their father, just to make him feel better? Or the boy who would stare longlingly at Liz Parker, dreaming of a life together? Dreaming of white roses, picket fences and dark haired children?
It was becoming all too clear that he was also the same boy who’d decked Michael that night in Frazier woods, even after he’d found out about what Hank had been doing to him. That same angry soul who’d threatened her with scathing lies, just to keep her from leaving the state after Alex’s death. Who’d gripped her shoulders fiercely, leaving bruises, when she’d told him about leaving to settle down in Boston...
“It’ll be okay, Is.” Max insisted. Trying to convince whom?
“Of course, Max.” She replied maintaining her feigned confidence. Leader of the goddamn Sunshine Brigade, Evans... Ramirez.. Whomever the hell she was now, she was still Ice Queen.
“Is...I will find them. Don’t worry.”
She listened to him hang up the phone before she slowly placed hers on the cradle, letting out a shaky breath, “That’s what I’m afraid of.” She whispered, leaning back into Kyle’s arms.
She glanced of at Michael, who was stroking Liz’s wet hair, and gave him a small nod. Max bought it. They were safe. For now.
~*~
Max stared at the worn out payphone. His head pounded as the sun peaked through the trees, mocking him with their bright rays. His right eyes swollen shut, black, blue, more pain reflected in the worn chrome of the payphone. He stared down at his hand, wincing as he flexed it. The glass shards, from the van’s window, were still embedded in his fist.
He had lied to Isabel. He admitted it. He remembered what happened the night before. Just as he’d remembered the first time he’d gotten drunk.
He remembered his fiancé in that enticing outfit....making love to her... making their child... Michael tackling him... Why the hell did he always have to...kill his romantic moments with Liz? Yeah, so his life with Maria was fucked up, why did he have to bring into theirs?
Things were fine. Better than fine. They were going to be parents. A new life to love and care for. To center them...
After Michael had taken her with him, in the van. Max had tried to chase after them, but with Michael’s lead foot, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d catch them. Why did Michael have to take his wife..future wife?
Well, Michael was bleeding. Maria had really messed him up... And even if he resented his Queen’s place in Max’s life, he had to know what a good heart she had. Hell, she had used her powers on her best friend.
God, she had such a good heart. Of course she would protect Michael, even if they couldn’t stand each other. Is was right. They probably were just in town. Maybe eating breakfast at the diner. His kind hearted girlfriend would have had to heal some of Michael’s wounds....
He sucked in a breath. He hoped she wouldn’t use too much energy. It wouldn’t be good for the baby. And...she had blasted Maria. More energy expended. She wasn’t thinking before she acted. It had to take some getting used to, carrying another life in her body. But surely she would think about that now. Their love, physically personified in her womb...
“Dammit Michael.” Max growled through his teeth.
Did he even realize the danger he was putting the mother of Max’s child in, by separating them? This was a delicate time. Any stress could harm the baby.
His child.
The son to replace the one he’d given up.
Max closed his eyes tightly, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of the phone booth. His poor child. He hadn’t even had a chance to connect with him.... or her? Son? Daughter? Dammit he should know..his own child, even now, so early. He had with Zan. He had to find... His child needed him. A father’s duty was to protect his young. She should have known better. Running away didn’t solve anything, but out their baby in more danger...Her kind heart would be the death of her...
Still, everything would be okay if they were still in town.
Isabel would have told him if they had continued on to Boston as he had believed earlier. But his sister wouldn’t lie to him. She understood the importance. Besides his wife..fiancee wouldn’t have continued to let him worry by running that far.
But Isabel did pause when he asked her if Michael and Liz were there. Like she had to think about it. Either they were there or they weren’t. Pretty goddamn hard to miss them...
And why would she ask if he’d hurt Liz? Did she think him capable of harming his fiancee, the mother of his child. She was the vessel for the most precious of cargo. Why would he endanger her, when that would only serve to endanger his son.
He had to gain her attention more than once. Like she was distracted by something...or someone. Maybe Michael was there with... his family. Isabel loved Michael. Enough to lie to her brother by blood?
No. Isabel wouldn’t lie. She told him about the divorce from Jesse. She told him about falling for Kyle, moving in... taking things slower with him because she really wanted to make it last. They were still as close as they were when she left. Nothing could break the brother and sister bond. Nothing. They didn’t keep secrets. She was his sister. She told him everything.
They weren’t in Boston. They had no reason to go...
“Max, knock it off. I don't want to play anymore...”
“Michael!”
He hadn’t realized how much she liked to play games until last night. Her mock struggle. Her moaning screams. Each struggled designed to incite his passion higher. He could still feel the way his fiancée had rocked her hips. Her screams were pleasure, not pain. She knew what he’d do if he got mad. She liked it.
Or she had until Michael selfishly broke in. Dragging them into his domestic woes. Always wanting what Max had. Selfish bastard.
He pushed roughly away from the phone stalking back to the campsite, his strides determined. He had to find her in town, reassure the baby’s safety, finally connect... He swiped at his nose, wincing... He’d been making love to her and her head had flown back in ecstasy. It was an accident. She hadn’t meant to hurt him.
He walked faster. Almost running. Screw waiting an hour. He and Maria were going to town now. Finding Michael and Liz and clearing this whole mess up. If Michael wanted to leave fine, but there was no way in hell he was letting the mother of his child be dragged off by a second jealous of their relationship. Of his king’s family.
He came upon the campsite, eyes immediately seeking out Maria. Where had she passed out? He saw what looked like a lump of blue, by the smouldering campfire. He’d initially thought it just Michael’s sleeping bag, but when it shifted and moaned on the hard ground, he changed his mind.
Kneeling next to the cocoon of blue down and flannel, he peeled back some of the material find a mess of blonde hair. He shook her shoulder slightly, getting no response. Growing frustrated, he shook her harder.
He got a mumbled, “Go away,” from beneath the mass of hair and narrowly dodged her waving hand trying to bat her intruder away.
“Maria...” Max said gently, having seen her hung over wrath on more than a few occasions at Michael’s expense, “Get up.”
“No!” Maria said hoarsely, eyes still closed.
“Maria...” Max insisted, realizing his urgency to get her up was tant amount to baiting a pitbull, but he, and his child, did not have time for her to gracefully greet the world.
When she realized her waker was not going to be put off any longer, Maria sat up sharp instantly regretting the action as, the sunlight assaulted her eyes and the world began to do a fair impression of a tilt-a-whirl, churning an already delicate stomach.
“Oh. God.” She grabbed her head, trying to focus on the reason for her rude awakening, “Max,” she glared, “I’m not doing jack shit until you put the brakes on the blessed Earth.” She moved to turn away from him and yelp left her throat, “OW!”
“What?” Max asked, with some concern.
Maria rubbed the area that had caused her pain, “Remind me how I bruised my ass?”
He shook his head sighing, “You got drunk. You got me drunk...”
Maria gasped, grabbing Max’s arm, “Oh..God...Max...Did we...? We didn’t... Did we?”
“No!” He yelled, causing both he and Maria to wince the tone far to loud for drying out minds, “No. We didn’t... Maria, what do you remember?”
She let out a breath of relief, silently vowing to never get drunk again. For real this time. She covered her eyes, trying to push past her throbbing headache to retrieve the fragmented memories of the night before.
“I was singing...” she began, immediately groaning at the image it brought up, “...to the moon. Michael... he...we...um... fought...”
“Don't you get it? We're not having sex! I don’t want you! Nothing you say or do will change me! Now get the fuck off before I throw you off!”
“Fuck you, Michael.....I hate you! I hate this life you dragged me into!”
Maria blinked. Had she really said that. Had she really hit him again? She heard the sound of rustling around her. Metal against earth... Was Max striking down the tent?
“Maria?” Max asked stopping his task of dismantling their campsite, seeing she’d momentarily zoned out.
She blinked again, focusing on Max. He had their back packs laid out. Were they going hiking? That was so not the cure for hang over. He resumed his actions, hurriedly stuffing their clothes...Liz’s clothes in the bags, “Sorry... He um... He ran... He said Liz was screaming. Is she okay?”
Max let a brief smirk touch his face as he rolled up his sleeping bag. He shook his head, his cheeks reddening slightly, “Um...She wasn’t exactly screaming...”
Maria’s eyes widened. Suddenly Max’s black eye made sense. She let out an exasperated growl, “Oh for the love of...Max I’m so sorry. It figures Spaceboy would mistake... that...for screaming. Its been ages since he and I...”
“Uh too much info.” Max cut her off, gesturing at her to get out of her bag so he could put her backpack together for her.
“Whatever.” She dismissed, crawling out of the bag and resting back on her haunches. She was in no mood to stand, “Like I don’t hear you and Liz going at it at all hours.”
Max coughed, “Um...What else do you remember?”
Maria looked skyward for answers. Her head snapped down immediately staring at the ground, a pained expression on her face, “Ahhh... Sun. Bad. Ground. Good.”
“Maria...” Max moaned, zipping up her sleeping bag and rolling it compactly.
“Right,” she held up her hands, “Let’s see... I remember tripping over something...” her eyes widened, “Oh! It was you...And...Oh...Ewwww! I saw your...”
She was point at the crotch of Max’s jeans and he blushed, clearing his throat, “Uh...Let’s just skip that part shall we?”
“Lets.” She agreed emphatically with a brief shudder. She closed her eyes again pulling up bits an pieces from the nights previous and hazy events.
“Michael...and Liz were getting in the...van. He...He was taking her away!” She gasped, she opened her eyes and Max read panic, he momentarily stopped his fluid destruction of their camp and knelt beside her. Her hands shot out gripping his collar as soon as he was in reach. She gripped at his shirt collar, “I tried to stop him, Max!
“I know you did.” Max reassured her, trying to release her fingers on his collar, only to have her tighten them further.
“What the fuck is going on?” Maria screamed into his ear as he attempted to throw her off.
“Get off Maria!” Michael hollered, turning to face the angry girl, “Max hurt Liz!”
“And you’re taking her in the van?” Maria spat. Her fists once again spinning wildly at Michael sometimes connecting, sometimes missing completely, “She’s my best friend. You can’t take her away too!”
“I’m not taking her anywhere! Dammit Maria! Stop!”
“But he didn’t take her...Not really... I mean...When I tried to stop...She used her powers... On me!” She whipped her head around, briefly to glance back at her sore bottom, “She had her hand out...She told him to duck!”
Max shook his head, “No Maria. I think... maybe she was telling you to duck and you were pretty drunk so, you couldn’t react... Or maybe she was just scared. Maybe she was trying to stop Michael and her aim was off. He was acting so crazy last night.”
Maria nodded slowly, but something ate away at her, “Max? Michael said you hurt Liz. Why would he say that? You’d never...”
“I know. I told Isabel the same thing. I don’t know why Michael would say that. I was... Liz and I were...”
“Making love. Cementing. Fortifying our souls with the horizontal hokey pokey.”She provided dryly, “Yes, yes. Please spare me the ‘meeting of our souls’ routine. You were getting your groove on and Space Case ruined your fun. I just don’t get why he would take Liz.”
“Isabel thinks they’re in town, waiting for us to sober up, “Max offered, “We were pretty plastered.”
Maria hung her head in shame. She knew exactly how she could get when she was drunk. Why Michael had run, but taking Liz still baffled her. Her head snapped up as recognition in something Max had said struck her.
“Wait a minute. Isabel? When did you talk to her?”
Max sighed, “About ten minutes ago. I was checking to see if Michael and Liz just decided to drive there since Boston only a few hours away.”
“And?” Maria pressed.
Max shook his head, “No. And she’d tell me if they were... I think.”
“You think?”
Max ran frustrated hand over his face, “Maybe I’m just hung over, but she... she hesitated. And then she started rambling...”
“So you think Michael and Liz are with Isabel and Jesse?”
“Kyle.” He corrected.
“You think they’re with Kyle? Max I don’t understand.” Maria growled, finally rising to her feet, unsteady, but standing.
“I mean, Isabel and Kyle. Jesse and Is got divorced a few months ago and she and Kyle... That’s not the point. If Liz and Michael showed up there, Is would have told me. I’m sure of it.”
“Wait a second!” Maria huffed, “You don’t just skip over Isabel and Jesse getting divorced and now she’s with Kyle! How do you know this?”
“I don’t have time to explain.” He said, letting his annoyance finally creep through. He shoved her heavy backpack into her arms, “Right now we need to hitch into town. Hopefully, Michael and Liz are there and we can put last night behind us. Start over.”
Maria let out an exasperated sigh, slowly slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. Were things supposed to be heavier after a night of drinking? “Fine. But once we get walking, Girlfriend... You start talking.”
“Fine.” He agreed, throwing his own backpack over his shoulders.
“ Isabel and Kyle?” Maria mumbled, as they began walking away from the now barren campsite. Only the cold ashes of their fire and the worn picnic table left behind.
“Yeah. Kyle.” Max muttered.
Isabel would tell him... But Kyle... He wouldn’t. Maybe...No Isabel was too strong. She wouldn’t allow Kyle to influence her when it came to her brother. Would she?
)
to the board Polar Quirk