UNDERCURRENTS

A 'ROSWELL HIGH' FAN FICTION

by Allegra

RATING: R (Just to be on the safe side!)

The formatting of this got messed up in the upload. I'm really sorry that I haven't had a chance to fix it but I want you to know I don't always write like this! There is a repost of story now if you want a better formatted version!

DISCLAIMER: This is nothing more than fan fiction & is not intended to infringe on the copyrights of the Fox Network, Jason Katims, Sky One, BBC or anyone else holding rights over 'Roswell High'. I am definitely not making profit off this story, so please don't sue me. I just want to put my favourite characters in horrible situations because I know the genuine writers won't oblige!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whilst writing this I was watching the end of the first series, reading Melinda Metz's books and also reading the first few episode transcripts (which I haven't seen). Therefore, there may be some strange discrepancies in the text where I have assumed information taken from both the books and the series. However, these are not major plot factors & shouldn't make a difference to those who haven't read the books. Any other big discrepancies are entirely down to poor writing & for which I apologize & will happily amend if someone tells me.

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It was a dark, starless night over Roswell, New Mexico; a night in which horrors are simply waiting to happen, invited out of the shadows by the cloak of darkness which had suddenly descended over the town. It is not surprising, then, to discover that, at about midnight, a black car with no number plate rolled up to the outskirts of town and dropped a middle aged man beside the road before turning round and headed back into the desert scrub in a cloud of dust.

The man ran one tanned hand through his dark, dishevelled hair and brushed the dusty sand from his clothes, staring suspiciously at the lights of Roswell. Reaching the main road, he tried to look as inconspicuous as possible as he entered the town, walking quickly but casually down the streets, assessing the layout of the place. Finally, he gave a sigh and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pockets and examined it closely. He moved to the edge of the pavement when a young couple passed him, averting his gaze to avoid any kind of detection. The fewer people who saw his face the better, but these two were too caught up with each other to notice anyone else in the world. Elvis could have tapped them on the shoulder and they would have carried on canoodling! The man opted for the second road on his right and soon he came to the local town hall. Congratulating himself on reaching the building unnoticed, he was grateful to see that his superiors had planned the job with great care. There were people milling around the hall, clearly joining in some social function or other; many had glasses of wine in their hands while others were helping themselves to the large buffet spread out on tables around the room. The man slipped through the double doors of the building, smiling politely at the doorman, who, fortunately, had decided that there wasn't much need for security at a function such as this one and let him pass with a simple wave of his hand. The man headed for a side door on the far side of the room and was relieved to find the staircase which he had been instructed to climb to reach the bell tower. Taking two steps at a time, he reached the highest point of the town and scaled the final, rickety ladder which led directly onto the roof. He pulled a small, smooth metal device from his inside pocket and set about securing to the underside of the bell's housing. When he was certain that it was properly fixed, he quickly made his way back down the ladder and, straightening his tie as casually as if he had been a legitimate guest of the party, sauntered back down the staircase to the buffet.

He was sorely tempted to join the rest of the citizens in whatever it was they were celebrating, especially when the dip looked so good. However, he had performed his duty better than anyone could have hoped for and although the James Bond pride had not yet worn off he knew that mingling would only jeopardise the project. There was nothing to be gained by drawing attention to himself. Instead, he took the back exit and within minutes was back out on the open road where he pulled out his mobile phone, "It's Klein. It's done, right above the bell tower like you asked...Okay, I'm on my way there now." Shoving the phone in his pocket, the man set off for an outcrop of rocks on the horizon.

Liz Parker was lying on her bed, trying her hardest to concentrate on algebra, but every time she had managed to write a few words, all numbers were forced out of her brain and taken over by the tantalising image of a young man. He was quite tall with dark hair and eyes like bottomless pools which reflected his very soul, his lips were...almost within her grasp. Running her pencil absently over her lips, Liz's eyes lit up at the prospect of seeing Max again. It had only been a few hours since they had left each other but she was already feeling pangs of emptiness for him. Clearly she was not the only one. A clatter against her window forced her out of her reverie and she tentatively pulled back the curtains, peering into the blackness outside. "Hello?" Her brown eyes were wide with fright, she had learned never to trust any noise she heard as merely innocent. One never knew what was lurking beyond the light. "Hello?" Craning her neck cautiously out of the open window, she jumped with shock when a face came into view right in front of her. Every muscle in her suddenly relaxed when Liz realised who it was, "Max!" She took his arm and helped him in to her room, feeling his firm muscles beneath the thin T-shirt. That was the all the protection she needed, to feel his strong arms around her, the immense love which she felt when she was with him. "What are you doing here? My parents would kill you if they knew." Max moved towards her, running his hands lightly up and down her bare arms; his touch alone was electric to her and she felt her heart pound in her chest. "I couldn't help myself. I was just thinking about you...us. I wanted to come." Liz smiled shyly. There was something about the way he said things that always made her feel about five years younger, every word and touch almost made her blush. He pulled her to him and tilted her chin up towards his face, his eyes trailing over her seamless honey skin and settling on her lips. She responded to him as they moved together in a passionate kiss. His hands moved over her back and down to her waist, encircling Liz as she held him close to her. At that moment there was nothing in the world which could mean more to them than each other, nothing could tear them apart. Moving towards the bed, Liz pulled Max down beside her, crushing her homework beneath their bodies. His lips were warm and soft on hers and she had never wanted him so much. Suddenly, they were interrupted by a noise in the hallway and Liz looked urgently at Max, then whispered, "Quick, hide in here." Pulling Liz up from the bed, Max motioned questioningly to the closet and she nodded fiercely. Her mother's voice echoed from the hall, "Liz? Are you still up?" Liz brushed errant strands of hair from her face and cleared her throat before opening the door, "I'm just doing some algebra, Mom." Her mother looked suspiciously past her into the bedroom, "Well, don't stay up too long, honey, you've got school tomorrow. It's past midnight." Liz nodded vehemently,
"Okay, Mom. I'm just finishing up." Her mother forced a smile to her lips and headed back to her own room. Liz waited until she heard the door close before shutting her own and tiptoeing to the closet. She put her finger to her lips, "Shhh! Mom's suspicious. We have to be really quiet." Max glanced nervously towards the door, and then turned back to Liz. He looked into her brown eyes and held her face lightly in his hands, then leaned down and kissed her. He pulled reluctantly away, whispering, "I should go." Liz wanted to protest but she knew that Max was right; they should break it off before something happened and things got out of control. She squeezed him to her for a moment then pulled back to look at him, "Are we still on for the movies tomorrow night?" Max frowned slightly, "Movies?" Liz's eyes sparkled with mischievous glee,
"Well, we are now. So?" Max smiled and planted one final kiss on her forehead before heading towards the window, "I guess we are." He climbed over the ledge and swung across into the trellis running up the side of the house. "I'll see you tomorrow then." Liz nodded, savouring the final moments of watching her boyfriend leaving her house just like Romeo leaving his Juliet.

Michael couldn't sleep, as was so often the case since he had started 'dating' Maria De Luca. Their relationship was the most confusing thing he could ever imagine and he constantly found himself doing the wrong thing just when he thought he had finally got everything figured out. Tonight, however, had been a good night; they had spent the study time after school together doing anything but studying. Michael was only just beginning to realise that Maria wasn't just on his mind when she had done something profoundly annoying, she was simply always on his mind. As he thought about what that might mean, he began to tell himself that perhaps that was simply due to the fact that Maria always insisted that he allow her to go with him. This invariably meant that she created trouble and thus infiltrated everything he thought about, so it couldn't just be an infatuation with the girl.

When he had had trouble sleeping once before, Max had mentioned that drinking milk was supposed to induce relaxation and sleep so Michael opened the fridge and relished the cool air on his bare chest as he downed the rest of the carton and headed back to his room. He threw himself unceremoniously onto the bed and flung his arm over his face in an attempt to block out the moonlight which was glaring through the curtains like a searchlight.

Daylight came quickly over Roswell, chasing away the relative comfort which the cool night afforded in the summer months and its arrival was greeted with varying levels of happiness by the group. Liz couldn't wait to see Max and go on their date, Michael was looking forward to seeing Maria in an oddly distant kind of way while she was not quite so enthusiastic. She enjoyed the intimate sessions they had together, the fall out from it was quite another matter. Michael tended to close up a little and became more difficult to be around that usual, embarrassment perhaps. Isabel and Max never seemed to be too bothered who they saw or what kind of reception they would get; they simply took everything in their stride. This morning was no exception and Max was drawn to Liz like a magnet as soon as he entered the corridor and saw her liquid brown eyes staring back at him over the top of her locker door. Running his hands through her silky, dark hair, he ran a cursive eye around the hallway ensuring that there were no teachers lurking and then leaned down to kiss her. They were broken up within minutes by Maria's arrival, cursing her locker when it wouldn't open which forced Max and Liz apart to look at her quizzically. "Maria? Something wrong?" Liz asked,
"Nothing a new locker wouldn't fix." Max gave his girlfriend a meaningful look which only made Maria a little more annoyed, "You know, it wouldn't hurt to learn that not everyone can have incentives like yourselves to come merrily to school every morning." Max raised his eyebrows and Liz squeezed his hand tightly, trying her hardest not to smile at Maria's bad luck. She wished there was something she could do to make Michael a more amenable person, but some things were just not meant to be. Maria just had to take him as he came, attitude problems and all, although Liz had to admit sometimes even she was bowled over by how insensitive the guy could be, especially with Max for a friend. Ah, Max. Before she could help herself, she caught herself leaning up against him, her head on his arm and their arms were intertwining behind their backs like ivy. Doomed not to be together until at least first break, just as the bell rang, Michael arrived, slouching towards them in black trousers and a dark blue T-shirt. Pushing past Max, he pulled roughly at his locker door, shooting daggers at the couple, "Get a room next time, it's too early." His voice betrayed the venom he was feeling for them. Liz pulled abruptly away from her boyfriend and tugged a little at Maria's arm to encourage her to class. Max moved closer to Michael, "What's the matter, Michael?" Michael gave him a withering look and turned back to the worryingly small pile of books he was choosing from. "Just give everyone a break, that's all. Porn is a late night activity, okay, not for school." Max pulled back slightly, it was customary for his friend to be a little terse about his relationship with Liz. Michael seemed to think that their girlfriends were only there when he chose and could be disposed of when more important things came up, hence the reason his issues with Maria were so confused. However, it was not quite so usual for him to be downright mean about it. "Is there something bothering you?" Michael slammed his locker shut and leaned one arm against it for a moment, labouring his words as if he were speaking to a kindergarten child, "I am simply asking for a little less cheese first thing in the morning. Comprende?" Pulling away, he marched down the corridor, leaving Max to digest his so-called friend's words, to try and figure out what they truly meant. Max glanced distractedly at Liz and Maria, who remarked, "God, someone got out of the wrong side of the pod this morning." She linked her arm through Liz's and headed off in the direction of history class.

Maria had ignored Michael since the outburst that morning, knowing full well that it was better to leave him alone in times like these, that she would only make matters worse. By lunch time, she had plucked up enough courage to seek him out and chip away at the rock he had so carefully built around himself. He was leaning up against a tree in one of the school quads, and Maria tentatively approached him, before settling herself opposite him on the grass. "Michael?" Behind his sunglasses, Maria couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not, or even if he was awake, but his body visibly tensed a little and he pulled himself up a little straighter against the bark. He seemed unusually flustered by her arrival, "Maria. What do you want?" Maria opened her mouth in vague disbelief,
"Do I have to have a reason to come see you? Michael, if we are going to be together, you are going to have to understand the concept of spending time together...properly. Not just in the back of a car or..." Michael did not move and Maria wished she could take of his glasses and see what he was thinking, but she stopped herself mid-sentence. This was not why she sought him out, "Never mind. What I want is to find out what's bugging you." Michael sighed,
"Nothing." Maria could sense the hurt behind his words and knew she had to persevere,
"If its nothing, why are you sitting out here all by yourself?"
"You think that is unusual?" He noted wryly. Maria licked her lips and moved closer to him, noticing the almost imperceptible way in which he shrank from her. "Michael, is there something, you know, alien related that you are hiding?" Michael bristled at the prospect that his friends should think he was always hiding things from them. "What would be the point of that, Maria? No, I am not." She was determined not to get angry but to try a less confrontative approach. "Okay, never mind. You don't have to tell me." She rested her hand on his leg, hoping that a little intimacy might bring out some information. Opening her sandwiches, Maria flicked distastefully at the bread, examining the contents as if it were a science project. "God, what is this?" While she was absorbed in her lunch, Michael was watching her closely from the protective haven of his tinted sunglasses. He was weighing up the pros and cons of telling his girlfriend anything, how she would take his being weak for once in his life. "Maria, I...think that I..." Maria was suddenly alert, all attention focused on Michael, but everything fell apart when they both heard, "Maria! Michael!" Liz was waving at them from the other side of the quad, dragging Max away from one of his friends towards the tree. Michael's eyes darted from Liz to Maria for a moment and he shifted uncomfortably away from the tree. Max and Liz arrived and sat down beside Maria, "You guys want to come to the movies tonight?" Maria knew that Michael was in no mood, so she spared him the effort of making what would probably be a very ungracious excuse, "No, thanks. I've got some stuff to do, homework and things." Liz nodded,
"Okay." Max and Liz were busy chatting like there was no tomorrow while Maria watched her boyfriend closely, wishing that they hadn't been interrupted. What had he wanted to tell her? It sounded important, but then, Michael always had problems opening up even to tell her that he cared for her...which most people didn't think twice about. She tried to sound casual when Liz directed anything at her, but Maria's mind was far from interested.

Michael was kicking himself inside for thinking of telling Maria anything. He felt sick, probably from lack of sleep, but all he had succeeded in doing now was making her suspicious and that always led to talking to Liz who would invariably go to Max. Before he knew it, they would be all over him like a rash, forcing confessions out of him and watching him as if he were dying of a terminal illness. His angry thoughts were interrupted by a sharp pain which ran from temple to temple like someone had stabbed a hot knife through his brain and twisted it. His hand shot to his head, but he tried to steady himself, running it through his hair instead to cover up the searing pain which burst from every part of his head. It was just like the pain he had experienced that morning before school, but, as now, he refused to acknowledge that there could be anything wrong. It was probably just some migraine from the stress they had all been under recently. The pain stabbed again, radiating across his brain like acid on flesh, burning and sending an involuntary shiver down his spine. Suddenly, Michael stood up, "I've got to go." He thought to himself, Nice one, Michael, now they are all suspicious as all eyes focused on him. He began to make some feeble excuse when the next wave hit him and he grabbed the tree trunk to steady himself until the white light around him began to fade. By the time it cleared, Maria was standing next to him, holding his arm, her eyes filled with terror. "Michael?" Max and Liz were getting up, too, and Michael pulled away from his girlfriend abruptly. "I'm fine." Focusing on the other side of the quad and determined to make it over there before he collapsed, he mumbled, "I just got up too quickly." When Maria still did not release his arm, he shook her off and stumbled away from them. "I'm fine." Maria desperately wanted to go after him, but Max drew her back. "Leave him." Maria turned to him, fear in her eyes, "Max? What's going on?" Max looked after Michael, who had just disappeared into the toilets. "I don't know." Liz offered her friend a comforting look, but her efforts were lost on Maria.

Liz and Maria went about their work quietly at the Crashdown that evening, both turning over the same information in their minds but refusing to say what they were thinking out loud. Having managed to get three orders wrong in the space of an hour and spilled coffee over a customer, Maria's attempts at casual were crumbling and Liz was the first to say something. She watched as her friend quickly slipped into the back room, tugging at the strings of her apron, tears already brimming in her green eyes. Checking that the last few customers were gone for the night, Liz locked up the front and cautiously opened the changing room door. "Maria?" There was no answer only the faint scuffle of someone dressing very quickly, barely covering feeble sobs. "Maria." Liz pulled off her own apron and moved closer to her friend, placing a comforting hand on her arm. "I know you are worried about him." Finally succumbing to the emotions she had been trying so hard to restrain all evening, Maria collapsed into Liz's arms, "I just...don't know anything anymore, you know." Liz rocked her gently, silently waiting for the sobs to abate.

When Maria had calmed down a bit, Liz cooked them up some waffles and made hot chocolate which they were tucking into in one of the side booths. Liz was relieved to see that Maria had perked up a little as she slathered her waffle in maple syrup like there was no tomorrow. "God, I never realised how hungry worrying made you."
Liz smiled, "Yeah, that's something I've learned a lot about lately." Maria paused for a moment, looking sternly at her best friend. "Thanks, Liz. You've been so great about all of this stuff...I don't know why this has rattled me so much."
"It's understandable. Of course you are spooked. They're not like us, we don't know anything about them, really."
Maria sipped her chocolate, nodding vigorously, "Right, exactly. I mean, if you or I had a headache, we'd know what it was or go to a regular doctor. With them...it's different. It's complicated."
"And we don't know what makes them sick. It's perfectly normal for us to feel like this."
"You mean, panicked all the time?!"
Liz laughed, "Yeah. Everything is so new, even they don't know what they can or can't do." Maria put her fork down with a clatter, her face drawn into a fierce expression. "But, at least you have something with Max - with Michael...I just never know when he'll let me in." Liz knew how difficult Michael could be to get close to, that was no secret, but her relationship with Max was no picnic sometimes. "Maria, I know it doesn't seem like it sometimes, but I think part of the reason Michael reacts badly to you sometimes is because he truly loves you." Maria gave her a dubious look. "He's never had anyone who truly cared about him before...you know, an outsider. He is just afraid of his own feelings for you."
"You really think so?"
"I know so. It is written on his face every time he sees you."
"Well, then, why won't he talk to me?"
Liz laughed, "You two are so alike, so impatient. Give him time, Maria. He'll come around." Prodding at her waffle, Maria stared in disgust at the puddle of maple syrup she had poured on her waffle. Grimacing slightly, she said, "All right, before I send myself back to their home planet on a self-induced sugar high, I think I'll call it a night." She grabbed her bag and stood up, "Thanks, Liz. You're a great friend. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Goodnight, Maria." Checking that everything was in order, Liz locked the whole restaurant up and headed home. She was pleased that Maria had found some peace of mind, but it didn't make any of their problems go away. In fact, it only reminded her again of how difficult her future with Max was going to be. She was concerned for Michael, but her heart told her that it was probably just a flu bug or something equally terrestrial. No, her real worry lay with the hard truth that there were so many things had she might never find out about Max, so many dangers they would have to face because of their ignorance. Even the three aliens had no idea where they truly came from or what they had to do to get home and what they were vulnerable to. More to the point, if they ever found Nasedo and found a way 'home', where would that leave Liz? Or Max? They were trying to make a life for themselves together. Would he really be able to throw all of that away simply for the sake of a planet he had never seen? More importantly, could she?

All these thoughts and fears ran through Liz Parker's head as she prepared for bed, and as she lay back beneath the covers, her head pulsed with adrenaline and nervous energy coursed through her limbs. Tossing restlessly, she passed the night in silent torment, wondering if Max ever felt the same. Little did she know that she was not the only one.

Michael Guerin had practically run from school that day, more relieved than he had imagined to get home safely without being accosted by any of his friends. What he wanted more than anything right now was to sleep, do something to relieve the pounding which drummed through his head like a herd of elephants. He secretly thanked his lucky stars that he was not supposed to be working tonight. The last thing he felt like doing was slaving over a hot stove with Liz and Maria watching him like hawks to see how long it took for him to sprout gills or keel over. He had good self restraint but right now Michael didn't feel capable of very much, especially putting on a healthy act to ward off other people's concerns for him.

He went to the refrigerator and relished the coolness which bathed his heated flesh while he rummaged around for the icy water he kept stored near the back. As he swallowed the freezing liquid, Michael could feel its passage right down to his stomach. It jolted his brain into another mode, causing him to gasp as the extreme temperatures raging his body battled it out for supremacy. By the time he had finished the whole bottle, Michael was disappointed to realise that heat had won and he didn't feel much better than he had earlier. Throwing back a couple of painkillers, he headed for his bedroom, pulling the blinds firmly down and pitching his room into blackness.

The silence only served to heighten the sensations going on inside Michael, the rapid beating of his heart, his laboured breathing, the throbbing ache in his temples and the sweat which prickled across his skin like thousands of tiny pin pricks. Trying hard to focus on the enveloping darkness of the room, Michael slowly succumbed to a fitful sleep, refusing to acknowledge the nagging in the back of his head which told him there was something really wrong here.

Alex had spent the afternoon with Isabel, finally forcing her to agree to a friendly drink with him. He had been feeling increasingly left out by all the events which had surrounded the three 'visitors' and Isabel was really his only reference point. Alex did not like to spend too much time with Max because he was a bit too serious to have any kind of light-hearted conversation with. Besides, what would they have to talk about? Hey Max, saved anyone's life lately? How are the plans for getting back to your alien family going? Somehow, there was nothing appropriate to say, so awkward silences abounded until Alex realised he should simply avoid Max. Michael, of course, was another matter entirely. Not even the most confident people tried to speak to him, well, generally speaking anyway. His friends were few and far between and Alex was not about to try to get closer. Michael was an unknown quantity and he clearly wanted to keep it that way. No, Isabel was the only approachable one of the bunch and while she had been a little frosty at first, they had got to know each other quite well now. Alex knew that Isabel wasn't interested in him in a romantic way, but he could always live in hope and if a drink at the Crashdown was the best he could do, then that would suffice.

He had been hoping to quiz her a bit more on the whole alien race theme which they seemed to cover so frequently and perhaps Alex could dig a little in order to find out how Isabel really felt about him. Little did he know how wrong he was. After a few tentative questions to warm her up, Alex began to gain confidence and his queries became more probing, until Isabel visibly snapped. "Give it a rest, Alex. I didn't come here for the Spanish Inquisition, I was under the impression we were here as friends." Alex felt the colour rise to his cheeks and he squirmed with embarrassment in his seat,
"I'm sorry. We are."
"Well, you could have fooled me."
"I'm just interested, that's all." He stabbed at the ice in his cola with the straw, distractedly. Isabel, as usual, was perfectly still, never showing signs of losing control or showing her emotions spontaneously. "It would just be nice if we could have a regular conversation every now and then. You know, one where you don't make me feel like some freak from outer space." Alex nodded, humbly. "I'm sorry." Recognising that he was uncomfortable, Isabel made an effort to relax him again, "So, what do you make of the new French teacher? I saw you looking at her the other day." Alex smiled, mischievously, "Well, you have to admit, she is pretty hot." Isabel laughed at the mental image she had just formed of gangly Alex coupled with the sophisticated Miss Jones. "I don't know, she looks kind of dangerous to me." Alex smiled, That's one thing I should know all about, he thought.

"Max? Are you here?" A moment later, the handsome face of Max Evans appeared around the door of his room. His expression altered from a kind of blankness to vague surprise, "Liz? What are you doing here?" Shifting uncomfortably in the hallway, Liz stared down at her feet, sheepishly. "Your mom told me to come on up. I'm sorry..." Max grabbed her arm quickly, shaking his head,
"No, I'm glad you came, just...hold on a second." He pushed the door to for a moment, tugging on a pair of jeans before opening the door wide again. "Come on in." Liz smiled, relieved that her boyfriend seemed to be in a fairly good mood this morning. He ran one hand through his unruly black hair, then, glancing at the bed, he quickly began to make a space for her to sit amongst the mess. "Sorry it is such a mess here. I wasn't expecting visitors."
"I could come back later..." Max threw some dirty washing on the floor and kicked it unceremoniously under the bed. "No, no, that's not what I meant. It's just, it's early and, well, it's a Saturday. I figured you'd be enjoying a lie-in like the rest of us." Liz's doe eyes widened as she tried to digest what it was that Max was trying to say to her. Finally, he calmed down a bit, clearly embarrassed by being caught unaware. "Is there something wrong?" Liz shook her head,
"No, I just...I wanted to see you."
"Have you had breakfast?"
"Not yet, I thought we could eat together."
"Sure. Let's go." He grabbed a jacket from the back of the door and ushered her out, taking a final look back at the damage of what Liz must have seen. Knocking on Isabel's door to see if she wanted to join them, they were greeted with a groan, then something neither would like to repeat. Taking her boyfriend's hand in her own, Liz was secretly grateful that Isabel didn't want to come. She had been hoping to talk seriously with Max, explain her feelings and perhaps find some reassurance or comfort from him.

After a fairly brief breakfast down at the Crashdown, Max and Liz decided to go for a walk together out by the chalk pits. They stopped by one of the lakes left behind by the recent rainfall and Max skimmed stones across the still water, watching the ripples spreading out towards the edges. Liz joined in for a while, making pitiful attempts which usually ended with a resounding 'plop' at the edge of the water. Max gave up trying to show her and threw his handful into the lake before pulling her to him and planting a kiss firmly on her lips. "Are you okay?" He asked the question sincerely, his brows drawn together into a concerned frown. Liz smiled and kissed him again before resting her head on his muscular chest, "I'm fine. I'm happy, I'm always happy when I'm with you." Max squeezed her closer, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair - the lingering odour of coconut and jasmine. "Me too." Liz waited a beat, staring out across the still lake and the chalky horizon beyond. "How's Michael?" Max pulled away from her and sat down on one of the prominent outcrops of rock. "I don't know actually. I figured I should leave him for a while." Liz nodded,
"Maria is worried." Max made no reply, so she went on. "Are you?" At this, he turned to her, his green eyes suddenly impenetrable in the blinding midday sunlight. "Michael has always been closed up with his feelings. He doesn't like people to smother him. I'm sure this will just turn out to be nothing." Liz began to weigh up the pros and cons of telling Max her feelings right then, but something stopped her. He didn't seem all that concerned about Michael and maybe she was blowing matters out of proportion, maybe there wasn't that much at risk here after all. Surely he couldn't be oblivious to the problems which the future might hold for them; Max must have pondered over them, too. Liz inwardly reprimanded herself for being so quick to panic and added, "Well, maybe we should stop by his house on the way home to see if he's okay." Max nodded and got to his feet, pulling Liz up after him.

"Great minds think alike." Maria's voice sounded strained as she approached Max's jeep when he and Liz pulled up outside Michael's house. Liz swung herself out of the passenger seat and pulled her jacket tighter around her small frame. "God, aren't you cold, Maria? How's Michael?" She shook her head slowly, "I haven't seen him. There was no answer. I was about to check round the back when you guys came." Max marched purposefully up the path, prepared for the onslaught that usually followed when he came in, uninvited. Michael made no secret about the fact that he wasn't the sociable kind and he especially didn't like to think that people could walk in on him whenever they felt like it. Maria and Liz followed closely behind. Max knocked hard on the door, "Michael? Are you here?" When there was no reply, Maria shrugged her shoulders in an I told you so gesture. They gently opened the door and Liz murmured, "Well, it's not locked."
"Michael?" Liz checked the living room and Maria headed down the corridor to his friend's bedroom, stopping short when he found the door firmly shut. He had never known Michael to shut a door or even so much as kick it closed; it was especially unusual for him to shut himself away like this. Maria caught up with him and unceremoniously rapped on the door before sighing, "Michael? Michael, we're coming in, all right?" She glanced at Max for signs of back up and pushed the door open, slowly. "Michael?" The room was pitch black, the blinds pulled firmly closed, but the place was cold. Maria shivered, involuntarily, "Jesus, it's freezing in here." She leaned over to the window and twisted the blinds open slightly and almost jumped out of her skin when she realised that Michael was in the bed, fast asleep. "Michael!" Max's expression changed from casual to concerned, a frown flickering across his brow. It was unlike any of them to sleep for longer than a couple of hours and that was usually pretty late, not midday. What was more menacing though was the fact that Michael had not even heard them knocking or moving around his house, he was usually hyper aware of anyone invading his space, any tiny sound. He approached the bed and Maria sat down on the edge, brushing one hand lightly over Michael's shoulder, and whispered, "Michael?" He did not stir for a moment, until Maria leaned in closer and ran her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his pale forehead.

Michael was dimly aware of people around him but something prevented him from reaching out to them. He felt like he was swimming underwater, everything went in slow motion and he was struggling towards the distant sensation of someone's hands on him, a voice calling his name and he sluggishly tried to recognise it. It was so familiar...now it was set off with the sweet scent of cedar... and grapefruit shampoo. He heard himself murmur, "Maria?" but he wasn't sure whether it came from his own mouth or if it was just an echo inside his head. Suddenly, he felt a cold wind all around him and his eyes snapped open and Maria's face swam into vision above him. They were soon joined by Max and Liz. Maria continued running her fingers through his hair, tracing the contours of his cheekbone, "Wakey, wakey sleepyhead! Are you all right, Michael?" Taking stock of the situation and reorienting himself, Michael frowned and ran one hand across his forehead as if swiping away the last remnants of sleep from his mind. "I'm fine. What are you guys doing here?" Max stepped back to give his friend some room when he saw the darting, defensive look in Michael's eyes. "We were worried, so..." Michael sat up abruptly, instantly regretting it when spots of light danced in front of his eyes and he blinked hard until the room swam back into focus again. "I was just tired, okay." Maria edged away from him, feeling the prickly shield he had begun to put up around himself. "Are you sick?" she asked. He gave her a sharp look before turning away,
"No. There is nothing wrong with me. Can't a guy just be tired occasionally without you people turning it into some major drama? Jesus, it's like living in a soap or something." Max steeled himself against Michael's anger. "It would be fine...if you were just 'a guy', but you're not, Michael. You are an alien and we don't get tired except for about two hours out of twenty-four."
"Yeah, well, I haven't been asleep that long, okay."
Liz linked one arm through Max's to reassure him as he continued, "It's almost midday, Michael." A wave of shock went through Michael before he could suppress it and he only hoped none of his friends had seen it. "Yeah, well, I, uhh, I took a pill, all right? I had a headache." Max frowned,
"You had a headache." Michael realised that perhaps he should have come up with a better excuse, all things considered. Sighing, he ran one hand through his hair, "Yeah, I did. I think it was an undercooked burger or something." Maria and Liz exchanged dubious looks and Maria edged closer to Michael again, quickly placing the palm of her hand on his forehead. "You are hot, Michael." He shoved her hand away and stood up, "Well, it's hot in here." Maria noticed the goose bumps which stood out on both her own arms and his but said nothing. "Will you stop giving me the third degree, okay?! I'm fine. I was fine yesterday and I'm even finer today. Just stop fussing. I assure you there is nothing supernatural about the way I am feeling right now. In fact, I feel better already, so just drop it." Max, Liz and Maria followed Michael as he headed for the kitchen where he proceeded to swig milk from the carton. It made him want to gag, just the thought of food or drink made him feel completely sick, but he couldn't let anyone suspect anything more than they already did. Come on, Michael, he told himself, just a few more minutes and you'll win yourself an oscar. Three faces watched him with a mixture of concern and curiosity as if milk were going to elicit some bizarre reaction from him. "Quit staring at me." Michael's eyes darted fiercely from one person to the other, challenging them to say anything.

Max watched his best friend with concern. Everything was wrong here and, as usual, Michael was making it near impossible to find out anything. He noted his pale complexion and the darkening rings which had begun to form beneath Michael's dull, blue eyes. Over the space of only a few hours, his face had taken on a gaunt appearance, his jawline and cheekbones even more pronounced than usual. As he scrutinised Michael putting the milk back in the refrigerator, Max noted how his hand was visibly shaking as his fingers gripped the carton tighter, his fingernails whitening against the added pressure. Max knew that he would never open up when he was cornered and the only way to help him was if he spoke to Michael alone. Now wasn't the time, though. Michael needed to collect his thoughts, prepare himself to speak to Max - to be willing. Guiding Liz towards the door, Max said quietly, "Okay, Michael. You know where I am if you want to talk." Michael didn't turn to say goodbye, not trusting his mask of confidence to last much longer. Liz called out, "Maria, are you coming?" Maria took a step closer to Michael and he tensed up when he felt her presence right beside him. "I'll be out in a minute. You two go ahead." She waited until she heard the front door click shut before tentatively reaching out to Michael. His breath caught in his throat and Michael prayed that he could keep up this act for a few moments longer. He tried to concentrate hard on breathing normally and trying to regulate the thumping of his heart which seemed to pound around his whole body. When Maria began running her hand lightly down his back, he was certain she must be able to feel his rapid heartbeat through the thin cotton of his T-shirt, but if she did, she made no comment. Instead, she moved even closer to him and leaned her head against his arm. Michael made no attempt to return her affection, until she pulled him around to face her then cupped his face in her hands. "Michael, no matter what, I'm here for you, okay. You can talk to me about anything and I swear I won't tell a soul." Her eyes, like pools of cobalt blue, stared up at him, filled with desperation and care, but he refused to look at her. He stared off behind her head, focusing on the trees outside the window and the control which he had to maintain over his unresponsive body. Maria shook him lightly, "Michael, look at me." Wincing as a bolt of pain darted through his skull, Michael forced himself to meet her gaze. "Michael, I love you." She barely thought the words before they were out of her mouth and Maria was momentarily surprised by her own forwardness. She knew she really cared about Michael, but she had never planned to tell him she loved him straight away like that. Suddenly, she felt a little embarrassed, but then the look of sadness and pain which flitted across her boyfriend's face reassured her that it was the right thing to do. "I'm gonna go, but...if you want me...for anything...just let me know." She surveyed his face for a moment, trying to see inside his thoughts, but Michael's mask was impenetrable. Maria planted a kiss firmly on his lips and headed to the door, only sparing a brief look back to see him slump back against the sideboard. Resisting the urge to go to him, she slipped outside to join Max and Liz.

As soon as he heard the door close, Michael turned to the counter and placed his palms flat against the cool surface, focusing as hard as he could on the shiny Formica. It took everything he had just to hold himself together for a few moments longer; Max would be back in there in a second if he heard Michael fall. If only he could just figure out what was causing the headaches; they were unlike anything he had ever experienced before which immediately pointed to something alien rather than human. That was not a good sign because it meant that it was unlikely he would get an explanation from anywhere. Clearly, the 'alien disguised as human' manual had been destroyed in the crash or something which pretty much left Michael in the dark over everything strange which happened in his life. Sometimes he enjoyed the thrill of discovering new skills which he could use and test when nobody else knew, but when it came to health, he had quickly learned that the only result was D.A.N.G.E.R. God, I wish there was someone I could talk to, Michael told himself, but he immediately stopped himself. There is someone - you have Max, you have Isabel, you have Maria. Just go to them, tell them. Michael's mind returned to focusing on the counter table and as he did so, he realised that the stabbing pain had also receded for the time being. At that moment, with the pain kept firmly at bay, he felt much better and regretted being so weak as to bother other people with what was clearly nothing more than a simple headache. The last thing he wanted was to have all his friends crowding around him and wrapping him in cotton wool. Besides, not only would it make him an object of sympathy which Michael hated, it would also frighten Isabel and Max unnecessarily. They did not need the added burden of wondering what was wrong which him when they already had to deal with Valenti, the question of finding their ship and where the damned shape shifter was. Just as when Max achieved collective consciousness, it became a group fear because neither he nor Isabel knew when they would be next and if they would survive. If there was one thing which the three of them never discussed it was death - the whens and wherefores of it all. It was morbid and they all knew that no comforting words or gestures could make the slightest difference to its outcome. They were not human, they never would be and no matter how they tried to hide their feelings of isolation, the knowledge that their bodies were otherworldly time bombs just waiting to explode made it difficult to mention even the word 'sick' or 'green around the gills'. Easing himself into a chair in front of the television, Michael channel surfed for a few moments before a dull ache in his temples told him that radio waves were not the best way to fight this illness. A moment later the ache was succeeded by a wave of nausea and, trying to control his urge to gag, Michael barely made it to the sink before he threw up. His body was wracked with convulsions for about five minutes straight before the tension built up inside his stomach began to ease and he wheezed dryly for a while before staggering back to his bedroom. There, he coiled himself up into a foetus position, wrapping his arms tightly around his cramped stomach and ignoring the bitter taste of bile which filled his mouth.

A few hours later, Max and Liz were settled in Liz's bedroom trying to remain light-hearted for Maria's sake. She had barely said a word since they had left Michael's house and, despite Liz's attempts to bring her out of herself with talk of cedar oils and aromatherapy baths, Maria had remained passive. Max had understood all of Liz's desperate glances in his direction but he felt helpless to comfort their friend. He knew only too well that Michael and Isabel never got sick except when it was some alien ailment which invariably involved a risky venture out to some military base or life threatening molecular motivation to help. Every thought which entered Max's brain was another point to the red team, no matter how hard he tried to find a positive to help Maria. Finally, Maria broke the silence for him, "Liz, there is no cedar oil strong enough to help me through this." Liz pulled her friend close to her, "Maria, we don't know that there is anything truly wrong." Maria snorted, dismissively, "Yeah, well then, why hasn't Max said a word all this time?" Her eyes locked onto Max's and he felt the urge to look away, afraid that she could somehow read his mind, but forced himself to hold her gaze. "Huh, Max? You know Michael is anything but fine, right? Help me out here." Max's expression melted from cold reserve to sincere sympathy when he saw the tears spring to Maria's eyes. She wiped them angrily away, leaving red tracks across her face with the back of her hand. Her voice quaked a little when she spoke, her words almost choking in her throat. "Max, tell me what's wrong with him. Please." Liz stared at her boyfriend, willing him to give the right answer, but she knew there was none. Max opened his mouth to speak but his throat was dry and raw. He swallowed hard and his gaze wandered from one anxious girl to the other. "Maria, I wish I could tell you something, something that you'd want to hear, but...I honestly don't know what I can say." Maria steadied her voice against building frustration and anger which strained to lash out at anyone within range. "The truth." Max nodded, slowly. He knew this must be just as hard for her as it was for him. "I don't know, and that is the truth, Maria." At that moment, Isabel knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a reply. Alex Whitman trailed behind, sitting down beside Liz on the bed. Isabel looked from one person to the next, her eyes searching and frightened. "I figured you'd be here. What's wrong, Max? I sensed your fear earlier. It's Michael, isn't it?" No one said a word and Alex looked over at Maria who had buried her head on Liz's shoulder. Her body was trembling slightly and it was clear that she was crying. "Max?" his sister probed. Max stood up quickly and went over to the window, "Look, I don't know what's wrong with him, all right! I don't have any more clue than you do. Why does everyone seem to think that I should know the answers?!" Maria lifted her head and wiped rivulets of tears from her cheeks and Liz said, quietly, "No one thinks you have the answers, Max. It's just that you've always been closer to Michael than anyone else. If there was something wrong, you'd probably be the first to sense it." Isabel sat down in the spot which her brother had vacated. "I'm sorry, Max. I didn't mean to lean on you like that, I'm just worried." Alex nodded sombrely, "We all are, but sitting here talking about it isn't going to help Michael." Maria drew a deep breath, "You got any better ideas, oh great oracle?" Ignoring the sarcasm which dripped from every word, Alex looked at Isabel then Max. Maria was right, there was nothing he could do, nothing Liz or Maria could do. Only Michael's own kind would ever be able to help him. "If you two can use your powers to look into people's minds, read their thoughts, you could do the same to Michael. If he knows what is wrong, you'll be able to pull it out of his mind." Isabel looked doubtful,
"What if we can't? I mean we can't get in if he won't let us. Michael is easily as strong as me, maybe even Max." Her voice sounded almost needy, something Alex never expected to sense in Isabel; she had always been the strong one, the ice maiden who was self-contained. She didn't rely on anyone and certainly didn't ask for help unless it was offered to her. Alex glanced at Max to gauge his reaction but he merely waited for Alex to continue. "Well, if you can change molecular structures, couldn't you find out what is making Michael sick and then eliminate the sick cells or something? That wouldn't be playing with his mind, would it? I mean, do you need his permission?" His voice trailed off a little towards the end, suddenly aware of how ridiculous and far fetched all of this must sound. However, nobody objected or jumped in to attack Alex, so he waited for the idea to sink in a little longer. Isabel was nodding slowly, assessing the feasibility of the plan. "With Michael's help, we might be able to do it." Finally, Max spoke up,
"Well, right now it's the best plan we've got." Maria followed his gaze and it was clear that he was only really talking to Isabel. For a moment, she felt a pang of anger towards him for ignoring her and Liz, but she checked herself. After all, it was Max and Isabel who would have to carry out this psychical examination. Liz gently pulled her hand away from Maria's shoulders and said, "We just have to get Michael to agree."

Somewhere in the desert outside Roswell, a group of scientists were huddled around a small monitor, savouring the feeling of achievement which ran through the group. This was a big day for all of them, because it was the first day of the end. Within a week, they would have genuine aliens in the holding cells. Out with the suspicions and in with the evidence. Dr. Palmano marched through the double security doors, swiping his identity card fluidly as he had done so many times over the ten years he had been working at Sector 45. "Gentlemen, do we have any activity?" One of the white coated scientists wheeled his chair a little further from the monitor, giving Palmano a perfect view of the read outs. He pointed to a series of frequency waves which ran across one of the screens. "We have set the device to trigger level one, but there doesn't appear to be any particularly abnormal activity in the local surgery or hospital. In fact, as far as I can tell, Roswell is continuing as normal." Dr. Palmano leaned over and tore a section of the print out off and examined it closely. Glancing at the panel of wires, screens and monitoring equipment, he drew his brow into a frown. "Dr. Gleeson? Have you considered that those who are sick, those who have something to hide, might not choose to turn themselves into the local health services? They are much more likely to leave town completely." Dr. Gleeson paled, a feat considering the severe lighting in the compound. "Might I ask how you are containing the townspeople?" Gleeson stammered for a moment and then began to turn a bright shade of purply red. Palmano picked up the telephone and held the receiver close to Gleeson's ear, simultaneously tapping numbers into the keypad. "Sheriff Valenti. Tell him that there has been an epidemic in the next town and that no one must leave or enter until the problem has been contained." There was a faint click as the telephone was picked up at the other end and a tinny voice said, "Roswell Sheriff's Station, Sheriff Valenti speaking." Gleeson stammered for a moment, his eyes desperately darting from the monitors to his superior while his mouth opened and closed in a perfect imitation of a fish out of water. Casting him a disgusted glare, Palmano snatched the receiver and cleared his throat, "Sheriff Valenti, this is Dr. Palmano from the State Disease Control Centre. We have a bit of a situation down here in New Mexico. There has been an unfortunate epidemic in a town south of Roswell called Orchard Park. It was believed to be a simple case of the flu but there have been some strange side effects instigated by very severe headaches. I, therefore, request that you contain your people within the city limits until further notice. No one is to leave the town or enter it. I will send a highly trained medical team to you equipped with appropriate contamination equipment and a full statement explaining the details of the incident." There was a long pause at the other end of the line before Valenti responded, "Wow, Dr. Palmano, I had no idea there was such a high risk. It will take some time to fully seal Roswell from outsiders and insiders wishing to leave." Dr. Palmano did not bat an eyelid at the sheriff's wary tone, but smiled as if the man were right in front of him. "I understand, Sheriff Valenti, but speed is of the utmost importance here. I have a small army unit at your disposal, but I would not wish to frighten your citizens unnecessarily. This isn't a Stephen King novel, after all!" The joke got the appropriate response from Valenti. "Let me know if you are having difficulties detaining people and I will, of course, provide you with ample enforcements." Valenti muttered something, then asked,
"Is there any chance of getting a copy of your orders by fax within the next few hours? It's just that the Roswell folk are always highly suspicious of any such goings-on. I am sure you can imagine." Palmano made some crack about aliens before flicking a hand towards Dr. Gleeson and then said, "Of course, Sheriff. I will have it out to you within the hour. Thank you for your co-operation." Rounding off the conversation with a few niceties but enough decorum to ensure the job was taken seriously, Palmano placed the phone back in its cradle. "Gleeson, pull up some record from the disease centre and write what I have just told Valenti. Fax it to him within half an hour." Tapping furiously into the computer, Gleeson nodded as if his head were about to fall off, determined to please his superior before he got the sack or worse. Palmano strode to the door then turned back to his men, "Oh, and step the frequency up. I don't believe that subtlety is the right tactic in light of this new plan."

It had been decided to leave Michael alone until the next day after school. There was no point in upsetting him when he was already defensive and both Max and Maria had made it easy for him to approach them when he felt ready. They only hoped that he would take them up on their offer rather than making them go back to him. Maria had been reluctant to agree because she was so worried about him and as much as she desperately wanted to run to him and hold him, she knew that all Michael wanted was to be alone. Everything had been more or less settled that night but everything took a new spin the next morning when Liz saw the newspaper heading. An epidemic sweeping into Roswell? Everyone was to stay in town until clearance was provided by the medics? There was something seriously wrong with this picture and she wanted to know what that was. She was grateful that Max had decided to swing by her house before school the next morning because it gave them a chance to discuss it before mass hysteria broke out among the group. The whole atmosphere of the town was suddenly different, like a new energy field had been built up around Roswell, static making its citizens irritable and distracted. Gossip ran like wildfire through the town and across campus, all the usual stuff about aliens amongst them and government conspiracies. Liz hated to admit that, for the first time, she actually shared their far-fetched ideas.

Luckily, Isabel, Alex and Maria also had first period free, so the group assembled under their usual tree in the quad to talk the situation over. Maria was the first to ask the question on everyone's lips, "Where's Michael?" Isabel waited to see if anyone offered any information on the whereabouts of their friend, but finally said, "I haven't seen him. I thought he had a shift at the Crashdown last night, but I guess I was wrong." Liz shook her head,
"No, he did. I asked Mitchell to cover when Michael didn't show up. I figured he just wanted to rest." Max interjected, "Yeah, he does that a lot for someone who should only need two hours sleep." His dark eyes darted around the circle, "I vote that we find Michael as soon as possible and do this thing. If he didn't turn up for work or for school there must be something wrong." Maria stifled a snort,
"Michael not turning up to school is a reason for concern?" She knew it was the wrong time to joke about it, but somehow the knots in her stomach seemed to have addled her brain and she couldn't stop herself saying all the wrong things. "Sorry," she murmured. Isabel shifted impatiently on the grass,
"If Michael knew we were all worried about him he would make every effort to prove us wrong. If he can't even do that..." Max nodded and he felt Liz squeeze his hand tighter in her own. Alex placed a reassuring arm around Maria and Isabel pushed herself into a kneeling position. "Well, let's go, then." Liz's eyes widened,
"Wait, Isabel. What about the article in the paper?"
Isabel shrugged, "What article?" Liz thought everyone must have heard by now and she wished she didn't have to be the one to break it to the rest of them. She pulled the newspaper from her bag and laid it on the grass in front of Isabel, Maria and Alex. It was a full page spread outlining the quarantine status of Roswell and sketchy details about the supposed flu epidemic. It was full of vague declarations that it would be short-term and that there was nothing to worry about. They surveyed it in silence for a moment, then Isabel sat back down. "What do you think is going on?" Max let out a long breath, "Well, we've seen this kind of scare before. The fact that the government are involved immediately makes me suspicious, but...it could make sense." Isabel pondered the idea for a moment, then Maria broke in, "There's only one way to find out, right? We go to Orchard Park and check it out for ourselves. I mean, if we are stuck here, we have to just take these people at their word. They have us prisoner without any evidence." Alex folded the paper and handed it back to Liz,
"Yeah, unless Michael is the evidence." He looked at Max, "Is it possible that Michael could have caught this...flu? I mean, I know you don't get sick, but diseases are adapting and evolving all the time. Perhaps you're not immune to this one." Max nodded,
"It is possible. I mean, of all of us, Michael is the one who spends the most time outside Roswell, either in the cave or somewhere. Half the time we have no idea where he's gone." Isabel shook her head, fervently, "No, this is all too easy. You are just falling into their trap. They have come up with some way to track us down, they know we're here and you're just going to sit back and let them come find us." She stood up, brushing the grass angrily from her trousers. "I say we find Michael and get out of here."
Liz interjected, "Isabel, we won't be able to get out of town. I swung by the outskirts to see what kind of precautions they taking. Practically every law enforcement officer in the state is patrolling there. If you try and leave, you risk being discovered. They'll know you have something to hide." Isabel studied the faces surrounding her, seemingly oblivious to Liz's warning, "Are you coming or do I have to go by myself?" Max stood up and pulled Liz to her feet behind him,
"Of course we're with you, Issy, but...don't you think you're being a bit hasty? This is panic talking, not common sense. What we need is a clear head. We don't have to rush this, Isabel. Just take a few hours to think it over. We'll go to Michael's and try to get him to agree to our plan. If he knows what is wrong it will be easier to help him, otherwise we can just explore his body structure ourselves." Somehow, Max's voice had calmed everyone and Isabel's panic was subsiding a little under the influence of his words. He headed in the direction of the jeep and the rest of the group followed, none even sparing a moment to think about what the principal might think of their convenient absence.

Michael had managed to sleep throughout the previous evening and had made it through until about two o'clock in the morning before anything of significance happened. He awoke sweating all over, his body soaked from head to toe and, as he pulled the covers loosely around himself, he couldn't stop shivering. His body convulsed like someone was shooting regular electric shocks through him and it kept him from going back to sleep. He wiped feebly at his forehead and upper lip, but as soon as one film of sweat was gone another took its place. He couldn't find any comfortable position to sleep in and every time he turned over, momentary blackness seized him and he couldn't see anything.

By the time the group arrived at his house, Michael was slouched in a chair in his living room, eyeing the glass of water which he so badly wanted to drink but which only made him dry vomit for about half an hour. He cursed the pain which swirled inside his head and made him queasy with every movement he made.

Max knocked loudly and Michael squeezed his eyes shut against the shrill echo which resounded around the room, before forcing a welcome to his cracked lips, "It's open." Maria came in after Max, almost pushing him through the door to see her boyfriend, but she instantly regretted being so eager. The person in front of them was nothing more than a shadow of Michael Guerin. His hair was uncombed and his clothes crumpled, deep blue grey gouges ran under his dull blue eyes and the pallor of his skin was enough to make even Nicole Kidman look like she lived on the sun bed. Maria could see beads of sweat standing out on his forehead as she approached the sofa. Alex said the words which were on everybody's lips, "Michael, you look like hell." Max sat down opposite his friend, who made no attempt to sit up properly or even look defensive. "You're sick, Michael. Let me help you." Isabel stepped in, "Let us help you. We know there is a way." Michael shook his head blankly and gestured towards a slip of paper on the coffee table. Liz picked it up and saw that it was a copy of the posters which had been plastered over town since the morning, explaining the reasons and regulations for the whole isolation of Roswell. "You think I have this, right?" Michael's eyes searched Max's face. He was always the one whose thoughts and feelings he could read the best and right now, Michael needed all the reassurance he could get. None came, Max was passive.

When the pamphlet had come through the door, Michael had been grateful. He was feeling weaker and weaker with every passing minute and what he wanted more than anything was freedom from responsibility. This flu epidemic, no matter how lethal, took all the worry away from Michael somehow. He could accept that it was a human illness to which he was either vulnerable or which would be flushed out of his system soon by an alien immune system. He turned his gaze to Isabel and she was momentarily frightened by the resigned expression which glazed his face. It was so unlike Michael to give up, but there was no fight left in him now and she could almost feel him tugging away from her, from Max. She sat down directly opposite him, perched on the table and took his hands in her own. Fighting to control her quaking voice, she said, "Michael, we have thought of a way to help you. If you allow us in, we can control your body and get rid of the sick cells inside you." Isabel paused, waiting for the idea to sink in, but Michael made no acknowledgement that she had said anything. She darted a look in Max's direction and was about to repeat herself when Michael spoke, his voice hoarse and dry, "No. This is nothing more than the flu, okay. I don't want you guys getting inside my body, it's..." He trailed off and Isabel could feel his hands shaking under her grip. Noticing her gaze had suddenly shifted, Michael pulled his hands away from her and wobbled to his feet. "I appreciate the concern, all of you, I really do," his voice dripped with sarcasm, "but it's unnecessary, all right." He headed for his bedroom, suddenly desperate to be alone, but the sharp movement caused the room to spin and he began to feel his legs turning to jelly under him. An arm grabbed him and drew Michael back to full consciousness, recognising Max's face spinning into focus. "Michael? Sit down, okay. Please." Maria was standing beside him, one arm linked across his back,
"Michael, please lie down. Let Max and Isabel help you." For a moment, Michael was certain that he was going to oblige, weakening into his friends' arms, but grim stubbornness made him shake them off. He didn't want to admit they were right, if they were right he became a victim. As soon as he started to believe he was genuinely sick, everything took on a new spin. He would be in mortal danger, dying from some terrible disease, weakening with every breath he took. As long as he protested that there was nothing wrong, things could go on more or less as usual. Besides, he wanted to believe more than anything that he was right - that he was simply affected by this flu, but that he could fight it off because of his DNA. "I'm not going to say it again, Max. It is just a bad bout of the flu and I'm gonna be fine. Stop fussing and leave me alone," he turned to the rest of the group, "all of you." His eyes settled firmly on Maria, and he could see the pain he inflicted on her reflected in her blue grey eyes. Just the previous day, she had told him that she loved him, that she was there for him. Now, he was flinging that back in her face, refusing to accept her help or her affection. Part of him felt bad for it, but Michael needed to be strong for only himself, anybody else was just a weight around his neck. He managed to get out into the hall before he leaned against the wall to recover his breath and composure. A minute later he reached his bedroom and closed the door with a resounding thud to remind his friends that they were not welcome here.

Maria stood frozen to her spot on the carpet until Michael was out of earshot when Liz walked over to her and motioned to the sofa. Max kicked at the carpet with one foot, letting out an exasperated sigh. Isabel merely stared at the place on the sofa where their friend had been sitting. As usual, it was Alex who broke the deafening silence which had descended over the room. "So now what?" Liz looked to Max for the answer, her brown eyes anxious and searching but it was Isabel who spoke up. "I say we do it without his help. That's all we can do, right?" Max's face was stony,
"What if he is right? What if it is nothing more than the flu?" Isabel stood up in a flurry, her voice suddenly shriller than usual, "So what, Max?! At least we would know he was okay." Max said nothing but merely looked at her as if she had asked him if he wanted a glass of orange juice. Liz lessened her grip on Maria, who had caught hold of herself. "Isabel is right, Max. I mean, I don't want either of you in danger, but this might be the only way to know for sure." Max stood silent for a moment longer and then pointed to the warning leaflet on the table, "Don't you think we are all overlooking something here? What if this is a set up? What if this is exactly what it looks like? Maybe they're playing mind games with us to frighten us or performing some test here to flush us out. If we use our powers, it might just leave a bread crumb trail directly to us." Liz wasn't sure what to say. She had never expected Max to be so cautious when it came to Michael. He was his best friend and Max had always been prepared to risk his life for him. She ran her hands through her hair. Liz cared about Michael even though they had never been close, but she had to remember that any decision affected and threatened the rest of the group, threatened Max. "Max is right. It doesn't make any sense for you to use your powers right now." Isabel rounded on her, viciously,
"What are you saying? That we just leave Michael to die?! If he's sick and we don't help then he'll die. At least we stand a chance of getting out of here alive - all three of us. It's a risk we have to take." Liz was shocked by Isabel's harsh words, but knowing that it was just fear and love talking, she willed herself to go on. "Isabel, think about it. If this is just a human flu bug, then Michael will get over it. If it isn't, you are only putting all your lives on the line." Maria jumped up, glaring angrily at Liz. "How can you say that? God, Liz! Could you be any more selfish?" Liz was taken aback by the savage attack and the bitter tone in Maria's voice. She had never believed her capable of such venom, but the onslaught continued. "You don't care about Michael at all, do you? All you care about is your precious little love nest with Max."
"Maria, that's not true." It was too late, there was nothing Liz could do to take back her words.
"You would rather let Michael die than risk capture to save him, just as long as Max is safe." Liz opened her mouth to protest, but Isabel jumped in first. "Maria's right. This isn't about Michael at all, this is about you being frightened of losing your precious boyfriend." She turned to Max, "I'm sorry, Max. I love you, you're my brother, but... I'm willing to risk leading them to us if Michael lives. How could we go on living in the comfort of our home when all the time we knew that it was at the expense of our best friend's life?" Max was quiet, contemplating every word Isabel had spoken. Maria, backing down when she realised that Max was listening, added, "We have everything on our side, Max. They have no idea who you are, but you know them. We can figure out a plan, some way which facilitates our escape. We have the upper hand, the element of surprise. They don't know when you are going to strike so they won't be nearly as prepared as we are." Her voice grew more desperate as the words tumbled from her mouth. Max looked to Liz then back at Maria and Isabel. Alex stood quietly in the background, sensibly acknowledging that nobody needed any back up from him. Gripping Liz's hand tightly, Max said sternly, "You're forgetting one thing. There is no 'us' in this, Maria. This has to be between me, Isabel and Michael. We can't place the rest of you in danger if this thing doesn't come off." His gaze moved urgently to Liz and he could see the tears welling up. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Liz." Liz looked from Max to Maria, her best friend's face streaked with tears. Deep down, beneath all the hurt she was feeling, Liz knew that Maria felt the same way about Michael that she felt about Max. If she refused to agree, everything Maria said would be true. It was nothing more selfishness to ask Max to stay, to give up his best friend, one of the only other aliens they knew of. Swallowing back the knot which had formed in the back of her throat, Liz strained, "I know. We have to think about Michael." As soon as the words left her mouth, they heard a crash come from the other room.

Michael was particularly relieved to find that no one had decided to follow him to his room. What he needed more than anything was to be alone, without distractions or the feeling that he was being surveyed like some lab rat. As he sat down on the edge of his bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the sluggishness which had lingered round him for the past two days, Michael pondered what Max and Isabel had said. They were right, after all, weren't they? It was the only way to be sure. Part of him regretted knocking them back so quickly, but he knew why he had done it. Call in cowardice, but he didn't want to become a legitimate invalid, anything but that.Raising his head, Michael could hear the others next door talking in low voices and then Isabel. Maria soon chimed in and the low tones of Liz and Max trying to calm her. He heard his own name mentioned a few times and he knew only too well what they were saying. Words which he really didn't want to hear, words which were perhaps nothing more than home truths which Michael was simply trying to avoid. It was at that point that the dull ache in his temples suddenly developed into a stabbing pain which moved around his brain, first attacking the front of his head before moving on to violate his brain stem. Paralysis set in momentarily and it was all Michael could do to cling to consciousness for a few moments. When it began to subside a little, he simply leaned forward and cradled his head in his hands, massaging his temples in a vain attempt at willing away the horrific agony. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, but there wasn't enough air in the room to keep his lungs inflating. With every breath, Michael felt closer to the other side, to relinquishing his hold in the struggle for sanity. Blinding light burned into the back of his eyes when he squeezed them shut and he was suddenly aware of a shrill ringing in his ears. He realised that a humming noise had been in his head for the past few days, but it was only now, when it began to escalate, that he noticed it for the first time.

Michael clutched feebly at his skull, his body heaving with hyperventilation. It took all the will he had to form a single thought at that moment, the thought that he had to make it out to the living room. He had to tell the others that they were right, to help him. He winced as he opened his eyes against the blinding light and reached one trembling hand towards the door knob. Holding his breath, Michael tried to stand and took one step before the room began spinning around him. God, this is it, he thought, this is how I will die. Instead of the peace he always imagined feeling, Michael felt a wave of panic as the floor spun up to meet his body and as he lay on the floor, all he could feel was the pounding of his heart, then blackness engulfed him.

Nobody moved for a moment in the lounge until Maria whispered, "Michael." Max was the first to snap out of the slow motion sequence everyone seemed to have been caught in. He ran down the hall and pushed against the door, "Michael!" It was jammed and as he managed to get his head around the door frame, Max saw Michael's inert body stretched out just inside. "Oh, God. Michael! Michael, talk to me!" He pushed harder against the door and it finally gave way, allowing Max enough room to get inside. Maria was hot on his tail and froze when she saw her boyfriend's lifeless form with one hand extended towards the door handle in a plead for help. Max knelt beside him and felt for a pulse in Michael's neck, while the others looked on impatiently. Releasing pent up breath, Max nodded and ran one hand through his hair, "He's alive." Alex pushed his way through and squatted beside Michael, "Let's get him onto the bed." Maria supported his head while the other two took him under the shoulders and legs and lifted him gently onto the bed. Maria sat beside him, smoothing his hair away from his forehead. "He's burning up," she said. Liz took the hint and pulled the paralysed Isabel away from the door, "Come with me, Isabel. We'll find some towels and make compresses." At first Isabel was reluctant to leave, but Max encouraged her out of the room. "Give him some space, Isabel." Maria took Michael's hand in her own, then, without shifting her gaze from the vulnerable figure beneath her, she asked Max, "Are you going to do it? The examination thing?" Max stared down at the unusually gaunt and fragile form of his friend, "Not yet. It will drain him of a lot of strength, it takes so much energy. We should give him the chance to recuperate a bit first." Maria nodded, running her hand lightly down Michael's hollowed cheek.

Liz returned with cool towels and more water, placing them on the bedside table. She wrung the first one out and handed it to Maria who began to wipe sweat from Michael's face and neck, running the damp cloth down his arms. All of them waited silently around the bed, nobody daring to say what was on everyone's mind, that maybe this was the end. As usual, Alex was perspective guy and chimed in with the words they really needed to hear. "It's murder just sitting around like this. We should be out there doing something." Maria's voice was tired and thin,
"Like what, Alex?"
"I think we should take shifts with Michael until he wakes up and the rest of us should take a serious tour of what is going on outside. If these people are who we think they are then we need to be five steps ahead of them. We should check out their posts, what time their shifts change, who is in charge and what kind of system they have in operation." Liz agreed,
"Max and I will take the north end of town. You and Isabel take the south. I've got my cell phone if anything happens. Maria can stay with Michael." Turning to her best friend, she said, "Ring me if he wakes up, okay." Maria nodded and wrung out the cloth again. The others hesitantly made their way out of Michael's room, each face betraying the concern which lay there.

Out at the jeep, Max reiterated the plan and they discussed group tactics for a moment before splitting up. Liz was relieved to be back outside in the open air after the oppressive feeling of Michael's house. Her whole body felt more relaxed for taking deep breaths of fresh air and for being alone with Max. When the others were around it was always hard to say what she really felt, always afraid of saying the wrong thing and creating some big rift between the group. Somehow she knew she could say anything to Max and he wouldn't disapprove. He loved her and understood her so well that he knew her thoughts often before she did. At least she knew they all stood on the same ground where Michael was concerned, no matter how frightening that might be. Yet, Liz still felt unsettled. She knew that Max was going to do anything he could to help Michael, but the problem was that she sensed he was holding something back. They had all been discovering their powers together but even though Max was fairly open about what he could do, he always baulked at the idea of telling Liz the full extent of dangers it put him in. It wasn't even just him, it was the whole group which could be jeopardised by it. She tried to put those thoughts to the back of her mind and just concentrate on helping as much as possible. She was no use to anyone if she was afraid or not thinking straight. As they sped along the main street, Liz focused her mind on the plan and pulled out a notebook to record anything that they found.

Isabel never thought she would be so relieved to have Alex with her. She had a strange relationship with him, a mixture of boy next door companionship occasionally blurred by a realisation that he thought of her as something more. That revelation had made it hard to be around him for a while, wondering whether just laughing at his jokes or thanking him for the coffee would be completely misconstrued. Today, however, he was everything that Isabel needed him to be. He was both her rock, her sanity, but also her comforter and rationalizer; not once did he try to make a move on her because she was vulnerable and needed closeness.

Alex walked alongside Isabel, taking in her curves, long blonde hair and extraordinary eyes. She was the perfect girl...He stopped himself short, disgusted at his own behaviour. How could he start fantasising about Isabel when her best friend was dying, when all their lives hung in the balance. Secretly reprimanding himself, Alex questioned, "What do you think we'll find?" Isabel unlinked her arm from his, "I don't know. Soldiers, I guess. We need to stake it out for at least a few hours, see what kind of routine they stick to. That way we can maximise our options if need be." She frowned against the glaring sunlight, making her expression unreadable. Alex offered her his sunglasses which Isabel took gratefully, "We should be careful that no one sees us. Don't forget we're skipping school here." Isabel shot him an irritable look,
"I can't believe you are thinking about school when Michael is dying." Alex drew back, defensive,
"Hey, we don't know that, all right. Besides, school is no laughing matter. Sure, a detention wouldn't be such a big deal, but they can practically haul our asses back there. No excuse will save us from what Mr Finch has in store for tardy students." He did his best impression of the high school principal and was relieved to see a smile break across Isabel's face. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be insensitive about Michael. I care, too, you know." Isabel linked her arm back through his again, holding him tightly,
"Yeah, I know. I'm just a bit touchy, that's all." Suddenly, she stopped short and dragged Alex towards a dumpster, "There they are." Alex craned his neck around the stinking shield and glimpsed two soldiers playing cards in a booth planted directly in the centre of the main street out of town. "Great, at least there are only two." Isabel nodded, then scanned the street.
"Okay, we should get a pretty direct view from the cafe over there. Let's go. I'm dying for a cherry cola." Alex was only too happy to oblige. The quicker he got back to doing something which resembled normal instead of sneaking around like a pale imitation of James Bond (with infinitely less cool results) the better he would feel.

Maria had been growing increasingly anxious for Michael since the others had left. He had not moved once all the time she had been sitting there and it was all starting to make her nervous. For a while, just after Liz and Max left, his breathing had sped up and he hyperventilated for about ten minutes despite Maria's efforts to soothe him. Now she was even more concerned because he had done nothing, not moved a muscle. Wringing the cloth out again, she noticed that Michael was no longer sweating as he had been before but had begun to shiver slightly. Taking his hand in her own, she tried talking to him, "Michael? Can you hear me? It's Maria." He made no movement and Maria couldn't help feeling even more attracted to him than usual in this vulnerable state. "Okay, so I know that you can't talk to me, but you can probably hear me in there, right?" Nothing. "I guess this gives me the easy ride when it comes to explaining my feelings, doesn't it? You know I love you, Michael. We all do...and we want you back. Come back to us." She surprised herself when tears began stinging in her eyes and Maria felt that familiar tingling in her nose which always came when she didn't want it to. "Come on, Maria, don't cry." She said the words out loud, hoping that hearing her own voice in the room would snap her out of it. She rummaged around in her bag for a moment, eventually emerging with a vial of cedar oil.

Inhaling deeply, Maria looked down at the still, sleeping form of the guy she loved. Placing her hands either side of his face, she leaned down to him and closed her eyes. Feeling the slow, even breathing against her skin made her heart pound. Never before had Maria been able to savour such proximity with Michael; it felt so strange. Running her fingers down to his neck, she kissed him, slowly and tenderly. It felt so right, she knew that they were meant to be together, but it was only just sinking in that it might never happen. He could die right here on his bed while she watched over him. As her lips lingered against his, Maria felt tears slipping down her cheeks and onto Michael's face.
Suddenly, she felt him shift beneath her and Maria pulled sharply away, wiping the tears away. "Michael?" She paused for a moment, then leaned close to his chest, afraid that perhaps what she felt was nothing more than a final death throe. Relief washed over her when she realised that she was wrong. At that moment, Michael's eyes opened, weakly taking in his surroundings and the person watching over him. Maria blinked hard, momentarily unsure whether her mind (or her tears) was playing tricks on her. "Michael," her voice barely sounded human. His gaze lingered just over her shoulder, as if he couldn't even see her. "Hey, Michael." Maria took his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her, "Hey, it's me, Maria." He lifted one hand to her arm, weakly touching her as if to see if she was real or just a mirage. His brow furrowed in concentration and Michael raised his head a little off the pillow as he tried to focus on her face. Finally, Maria locked his gaze with hers. "You're awake. You had us all pretty scared." Michael swallowed back the dryness in his throat. Was that really Maria? I thought I was dead. Maybe I am. He could smell her aromatherapy oils and the throbbing in the back of his skull, duller than it was before. "I'm alive." Maria smiled and ran her hand through his hair, "Of course you're alive!" Michael didn't know he had said that aloud and he felt a bit stupid for doing so. It was more like a line from some corny movie than real life, but the pain in his head told him that this was anything but a film. If it was, he would be able to jump out of bed and go leaping off some building or chasing trains. His voice was hoarse, "Where's Max? Isabel?" Maria ignored the pang of resentment she suddenly felt for Isabel, that Michael wanted her instead of his sometime girlfriend. Of course he wanted Isabel and Max, they were the only ones capable of bringing Michael back from the brink of death. "They're patrolling. We decided to take shifts." Michael managed to nod and moved his hand over Maria's. "Listen, I'm sorry about...you know, what I said before." Maria felt awkward, but the feeling of Michael actually reaching out to her felt good and she nodded, "I know you are. It's okay." She smiled then blushed at the idea that only a few moments ago she had been kissing him. His eyes seemed to pierce her very soul as Maria looked down at him, then his hand moved to the back of her neck, pulling her down towards him. His lips locked with hers, tugging her on top of his body, arms circling her waist, then moving up to her face. Maria tensed her body for a moment then melted against him, succumbing to the heated passion which had suddenly been ignited between them. Michael pulled away momentarily, whispering, "Now, this feels familiar." Maria choked back a giggle,
"I thought you were asleep." He didn't reply but kissed her again, deeper. Maria had never experienced anything so beautiful, her heart pounded in her chest and, somewhere in her mind, she felt a shimmer of surprise that Michael was capable of feeling something so strongly. Her kisses moved down to his neck as she moved her fingers through his hair and his hands traced the contours of her body, running under her sweater and through her blonde hair.

Just as Maria was becoming oblivious to the fact that there was anything else in the world except her and Michael, his body jerked beneath her, his hands gripping her arm like a vice. Pulling away in fright, Maria saw that Michael's eyes were glazed over, a mixture of frozen pain and paralysis behind the grey. For a moment she thought he might be playing a game and she laughed uncertainly, "Cut it out, Michael." There was no response and panic began to build up inside her stomach. She shook him lightly by the shoulders and his eyes suddenly drifted closed. "Michael! Stay with me, Michael. Come on, wake up!" Maria shook him harder, desperate to do anything to keep him conscious. "Please, Michael." For a moment she thought he was waking up and was trying to say something. Maria leaned closer, just in time to hear him utter her name then let out a long, shuddering breath. She reached out trembling fingers to his neck, not daring to hope that she would find a pulse there. She was right. Maria stood up, fear taking hold of her body. Here she was, alone with a dead person...with Michael. A sliver of colour could be seen beneath his eyelids, empty, focusless eyes mocking the life which had been there moments before. Maria was suddenly aware that she wasn't breathing and took big, gulping gasps, flapping her hands in front of her in some comical impression of a bird. Thoughts ran through her mind but she couldn't catch hold of any of them. Finally, she reached into her bag and pulled out her cell phone, punching in Liz's number. Within seconds her friend's voice echoed down the receiver, "Isabel?" Maria cleared her closed throat, "Liz, get over to Michael's."
"Maria? What's happened?"
"It's Michael...I think, I think he's dead, Liz."

END OF PART ONE

Heart beating like a tribal drum. Filling every cell of his body - sending vibrations down his spine like a freakish xylophone. Instrument to the home planet plane. They were calling, their voices distant but so clear. He could feel them...their anger and anguish ran through his limbs, affecting every nerve. Were they angry with him? No, it was different...they were angry for him. Then it was Maria. She was moving towards him, out of the darkness...out of the stars. Wait, no, she was walking away, drifting into the shadows, first her blonde hair faded then her pale skin was consumed by the black as if some creeping deformity had claimed her. As she went, he could hear the pulsing beat in his head subsiding, blessed relief from the pain which had wracked his body. It slowed, first slamming against the cage of his bones then pacing itself like train slowing into the station until he felt it reach its destination. Relaxing into a new plane, his body was at rest...Everyone was here.

Out of the blackness ahead, he saw Isabel's long hair, loose and flowing against the curve of her shoulder. Michael felt Isabel's hand on his shoulder, her gaze wandering from him back to the gloom ahead. Another figure had begun to emerge. It was Max...but his face was strangely distorted, cheekbones hollowed with streaks of charcoal and eye sockets sunken. Then he entered the light, reaching out to Michael. But it wasn't a trick of the light, Max's face was little more than a skull, skin sallow and papery. As he reached one hand out, Michael could see the blue tinge of death spreading from his fingers. His mouth was opening, trying to communicate something, but no sound came out, eyes travelled desperately from Isabel to Michael and then back to Isabel again. His gaze locked onto hers and as Michael looked to her, he could see that her expression was icy and passive. Max was pleading her to do something but she wasn't doing a thing to help him. She watched blankly as he sank to his knees and then to the ground, dying right in front of their eyes.

Michael moved to Isabel, suddenly unable to move with any speed. She turned to face him, not even flinching at the sight of her own brother dead in the earth at her feet. He tried to form words but none would come, Michael's throat was parched. Then, with speed he never thought imaginable, Isabel's hand darted out to him and reached into his chest as though it were dough. Michael's back arched with the pressure of her hand inside his body and he looked down to see his own blood stretching out across his T-shirt. Isabel's face was a frightening mask of passivity as she looked into Michael's eyes and then pulled her hand free, blood staining her arm and dripping from her fingertips.

"Maria!" Max's voice was barely the shout he had thought he would utter, it barely registered as a whisper. His mind was racing faster than the rest of his could keep up with; there was a pain in his body which set in before Liz had even got the call from Maria. Max had known, he had felt Michael dying and then a twisting, agonising pain in his chest as if someone had wrenched his heart out with brute force. Skidding to a halt in the bedroom doorway, he took in the scene of Michael's cadaverous face and then Maria's tear-stained cheeks when she turned to him, her hands still clutching at her boyfriend's hand as if trying to will him back to life. Liz caught up with him, running into the room before she turned back to Max. "Max! Max, do something!" Max shook off the paralysis which had caught him, charging to the bed and straddling his friend. He placed shaking hands on Michael's temples, forcing images of their childhood, of their years of friendship into his mind. Straining against the fear and knowledge that this was his best friend lying dead under him, Max trained his mind back onto a single track. "Come on, Michael. Come back to us." The images began slowly, tinged with consciousness of what he was doing, then they came faster until Max was no longer aware of the room around him, of the two frightened figures standing beside him and the cold body lying on the bed. He was absorbed into the pictures, feeling every touch and smelling the scent of leaves, the sensation of walking through the desert terrain and the sun beating down on his head. He searched for Michael, silently calling to him, but there was no response. Then, Max could feel a dull pain and confusion. He moved towards it until he recognised Michael's presence and the connection was made. Tugging his energy from afar towards him, Max used all his strength to will him back to reality. The images fell together, amassing into a solid construct and then a home, Michael's home and then Max felt himself snapping back into consciousness, still hearing his friend's heartbeat resounding in his ears. He opened his eyes, focusing intently on Michael's pale face, "Michael?" Maria hadn't even noticed how hard she was gripping Liz's arm until she felt an ache in her hand muscles and noticed her best friend's hand turning a shade of crimson. She took one step towards the bed, hardly daring to hope for what she wanted to see until she saw Michael flinch, a muscle flexing his hand and his head lolled to one side. Max took his face in his hands and said, "Michael, wake up." Michael's eyes opened slowly, registering what was going in, suddenly disorientated. Then, Maria was beside him, holding his hand, "Hey." Max let his body sag back against Liz who had wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

Maria felt awkward all of a sudden, uncomfortable with the unusual silence which Michael had created. He didn't say a word but simply watched her as though she were the first person he had ever seen. His grey eyes traced over her face, down her neck then rested on their hands interlocked, then back up to her face again. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so quiet and pensive. It was almost as if this wasn't even Michael anymore but some impostor. For a moment she entertained the idea that that might be the answer, that Max had brought some other creature back from another plane, leaving the real Michael somewhere in a different dimension, but she stopped herself. He had just come back from the dead having been seriously ill, it wasn't exactly unusual for someone to be exhausted at the very least, certainly not up to idle chit-chat. Pull yourself together, Maria. Give him some space. He just needs support and comfort right now. Feeling the maternal instinct rising in her, Maria forced herself to remember that too much molly-coddling would not be received gratefully by Michael, regardless of how sick he might have been. Just take it slow, get him a glass of water.

She was just about to ask him what he wanted when a commotion was heard outside then Isabel arrived, breathless and flushed, followed shortly by Alex who was similarly out of breath. She looked first at Michael then at Max, "What happened? I felt...something." Her voice was trembling, partly from fear but also from trying to catch her breath. Max nodded, "He's okay." Maria gave a short laugh, "Yeah, he just came back from the dead." Isabel looked back at Michael, his face still turned away from her towards Maria. "Will he...you know, be okay?" Max was about to reply when Michael said, weakly, "I'll be fine, Issy." Liz squeezed Max's shoulder, reassuringly and glanced at Alex. It seemed that they were the only two with rational heads right now. There was an unspoken agreement between them that it was their job to keep the group together and sane. Alex put a hand out to Isabel, but she made no sign that she wanted comfort. Liz's voice was low, "Perhaps Alex and I should go back to the stake out. It might be our only chance to get Michael out of here or find out what is making him sick." Maria nodded,
"I'm staying with him." It wasn't a query. Max nodded and looked at Isabel,
"Isabel. Maybe you should go, too." She shook her head, fervently,
"No way. What if something happens again?" Max had been thinking exactly the same thing, but he didn't want to say it out loud. "It won't. I'll be here." Michael shifted suddenly on the bed,
"No, Max. You should go, too. Help Liz." Max was about to protest, but Michael added, "Please." His voice was barely audible, but somehow it was a request he couldn't refuse. Getting up, Max ran one hand around Liz's waist, pulling her close to him. He needed her more than ever right now, she was his force of sanity when everything had gone into a spin and, as always, she hadn't let him down. Ushering Isabel out of Michael's room, they headed towards their respective positions on the outskirts of town.

Maria stayed with Michael, rambling about what would befall them when they went back to school if the world didn't end beforehand. It was disconcerting the way that his eyes never left her face, as if trying to remember who she was or what she meant to him. Eventually, she exhausted all topics of conversation and Maria was forced to sit in silence, subject to the weirdest kind of investigation. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water? Food? Galaxy burger? Human genes?" She instantly regretted the joke when Michael didn't even smile. He closed his eyes for a moment, "I'm just really tired." Maria didn't like the idea of letting him sleep; it may be off putting to have him watching her, but at least then she knew he was alive, but the dark rings under his eyes told her that she was just being over cautious. He probably just needed a really long rest before all the excitement of government conspiracies and running away began. "Sure." Maria got up to leave, but Michael wouldn't let go of her hand, "Stay with me?" Smiling, she sat back down, then lay alongside him, snuggling up close and wrapping one arm around him. "Everything's going to be fine, okay. You are going to be fine." She wasn't sure if Michael heard because he didn't answer and, within moments, she could hear his even, steady breathing.

Max and Liz had barely said a word since that morning, first too worried about Michael then even more worried about Michael. Whatever conflict there might have been over whether to use their powers to heal him, Michael's death had taken away any doubt as to what they should do. It was only when the real horror of everything that was happening had begun to sink in had Liz felt it the right time to talk to Max. She reluctantly began to pull herself out of his arms where she had been contentedly settled, but something told her that it was better to distance herself. Somehow lying in Max's arms made it easier to envisage what it would be like for him to be gone, to not have these intimate moments when nothing in the world seemed to matter. "Max?" He rubbed his cheek lightly against her hair, "Mmm." He remained in the reclining position when she sat up. "What is it?" Liz suddenly felt her stomach recoil at the prospect of saying what she desperately needed to know. He looked so gorgeous like that, his face bathed by the dusk sunlight, his eyes a liquid shade of green which reflected the light like a million stars. She fiddled nonchalantly with the lock on the glove box, trying to gather her rapidly evaporating thoughts. Max shifted into a more upright position in the seat, looking at Liz with concern. "What's the matter?" Liz resented ever starting this, now Max was genuinely worried, thinking she had something terrible to tell him when it was just her own selfish fears for her own happiness. She leaned over to him, running one hand over his chest, "No, it's nothing important, I just..." She paused and took a moment to delve deep into the pools of his eyes, "Do you ever think about the future?" She felt Max tense slightly, "I mean...our future?" He looked away, out towards the city limits where two soldiers were still patrolling. For a moment, Liz thought he wasn't going to answer her, then, "I try not to, Liz." The way that Max said her name suddenly made her pull away, as if it were bitterness he was feeling towards her for broaching the subject. "So do I, but sometime, sometime we are going to have to face it." Max suddenly turned to face her, his eyes filled with pain Liz had hoped she would never have to see. "Michael tells me I love this world too much, that I should let go, cut the ties in preparation for...going home." Liz nodded, trying to look like she understood and agreed, but her heart wasn't in it. "If that's what you want." Max watched his girlfriend, her dark hair creating a veil over her dipped lashes, but he didn't need to see her eyes to know that she was near to tears. He reached out one hand to cup her cheek, "It's not what I want, Liz, but...I don't know what I should be doing." Liz cast a bitter glance up at the sky, the place which her mind used to escape to and fill with any fantasy she wanted. Now, all it held was the hard truth that somewhere up there was Max's destiny...but not hers. "God, how did this happen, Max?! How did my life go from what it was...to this? Why?" Max wished there was something he could say, but that was the worst thing about this conversation, the very reason why he never brought it up. There were no easy answers, no comforting words or kisses which could wipe it from their minds. Some days he was certain that he wouldn't go back to the home planet if the chance came but other times he was torn equally between what he wanted with Liz and his instincts. Now was one of those moments.

Whenever a crisis came along, one which set them all in a spin because nobody knew whether it meant the end for all of them, it reminded Max that he didn't belong here. No matter where he went, what he did or who he tried to become, this 'thing' would always be with him, holding him back and tugging him back home. But, how could he tell all of this to Liz? How could he be the one to tell her what she already knew? If he uttered the words, they might just be the one thing she couldn't support him through. Pulling her towards him, Max squeezed her close, inhaling the familiar aroma of her hair and the heady scent of her suede jacket. "I wish I had the answers."
Liz softly said, "I feel terrible, Max."
"So do I."
"No, I mean...sometimes I lie awake at night and think about how good it would be if, if your people never came, or...if the communicator was destroyed or something." She pulled away from Max, certain that he wouldn't want to hold her after hearing a confession like that, but his face showed her nothing but love. "Sometimes I do, too. At least it would make the decision for me...and we could be together. But then I stop and think about Isabel, then about what Michael has to stay for and I see how selfish I am." Liz shook her head,
"It's not selfish, Max, it's love. You think about them all the time, they're your family." She leaned in and kissed him tenderly. Max shifted towards her and pulled her back down onto the seat beside him, his hands moving up and down her back. They were quickly interrupted by shouting coming from the guard post and Max hastily helped Liz up, groping for the binoculars. Liz's voice sounded breathy, "What is it? What can you see?" Max adjusted the focus again,
"It looks like some kind of changing of the guard. Two more guards have arrived. They are all going inside the booth...It looks like they're signing some book, a log book." Liz craned her neck to see where Max was looking, "So whose on duty?" Max put down the binoculars,
"No one, by the looks of things." Liz quickly jotted something down in her notebook,
"So, I guess that is our opening. It's nearly eight o'clock now and we reckoned they were working in four hour shifts." Max nodded,
"We'll cross check with Isabel and do the same stakeouts tomorrow. Hopefully we are right. The quicker we get Michael out of town the better." He started up the engine and reversed quietly out of the scrub area which they had been hiding in. "Let's get back to Michael's. Ring Isabel and let her know." Liz pulled her cell phone out of her bag and began punching in the numbers.

Within the half hour everyone had congregated back at Michael's house where they exchanged the information they had discovered. It was a great relief to them all to discover that the shifts were fairly likely to be in four hour sections, and both parties had seen the changeover in which there was about two minutes when nobody was on guard. There had been no abnormal activity to suggest anyone knew that Max had used his powers either. Isabel gave a sigh of relief, "Thank God. At least now we know what our options are." Max nodded, somberly. He knew there was something else wrong here, that there was something they hadn't thought of, but he decided not to aggravate the situation until he had more facts. "Yes. I think we should all get some rest. Whatever is going on out there, we need to be on the ball, ready for anything." Alex ran one hand through his dishevelled hair and nodded,
"Yeah, I should really be getting home. If my parents find out that I wasn't at school and then I come home late, I'm not going to live until tomorrow." He glanced at Isabel, waiting to see her reaction. He had felt the anxiety pouring out of her all day and he knew that his presence had made it an easier burden to bear. If she asked him to stay he would...he would do anything to make her smile again. Instead, she patted his knee lightly, "You go home. Thanks, Alex." As he grabbed his coat, Alex couldn't help but feel a little upset that she hadn't been even more grateful. He understood that she was worried about Michael but there was always a part of him which hoped she would want or need something more from him. Max turned to Isabel, but she read his expression before he could speak, "I'm not leaving until I know how Michael's doing." Max nodded and she moved down the hallway to her friend's bedroom with Max and Liz in tow. She pushed open the door, pulling a face when it creaked on its hinges.

Michael was fast asleep, his head turned away from them, one hand hanging off the bed and the other still holding onto Maria. She had her head resting on his shoulder, but she stirred when she heard the door open. Frowning against the light from the hallway, Maria motioned outside and carefully got up from the bed, tentatively extricating her hand from Michael's. He didn't stir and she checked his pulse quickly before slipping from the room. Isabel looked back at Michael again before shutting the door to give him some peace.

Maria went to the kitchen and poured water into the kettle jug. Isabel asked, "How has he been all day?" Maria hugged her arms around herself, shuddering at the cold draught which ran through the house. "He's been kind of quiet, you know. I don't mean...I know he died and everything but...it has just been kind of weird." Isabel's eyes searched Maria's face for more information, then Max added, "But he's been okay? Physically, I mean?"
"I guess. The sweating stopped but his heart rate is still a bit low. He has been sleeping pretty much since you guys left." Liz moved towards her best friend, suddenly aware of how drained Maria appeared. How could she blame her? If the same thing had happened to Max, she didn't know what she would do. "Maria, why don't you go home? I'll take over for you." Maria shook her head, reaching for the kettle jug and pouring boiling water over the instant coffee granules. "No, I want to stay here...in case he needs me." Isabel gave her a strange look, and Maria swallowed a sip of coffee quickly, ignoring the burning on her tongue and throat. "I know it sounds stupid, but...he was looking at me really strangely earlier. You know, he wouldn't let go of my hand and he kept staring at me as if he didn't know what was happening. It was like...it was like he had to keep checking that I was real." She shook her head, "I don't know, I just really think he wants me here." Liz ran her hand lightly over Maria's arm, hoping to provide some reassurance or comfort. Max went to Isabel, "Issy, go home, okay. I'll stay here with Michael and I swear I'll let you know if anything happens." Liz glanced at Max, "What about your parents?"
"They're out of town for a few days. They won't be back until tomorrow morning." Turning back to Isabel, "Please, Isabel. We need you at full strength tomorrow." For a moment, he wasn't sure if she would back down, but after shooting a look in the direction of Michael's bedroom, she nodded. "Okay, but you have to swear you'll tell me if anything happens...anything!" Max promised and walked her to the door, "Take the jeep. I'll see you in the morning if nothing happens." She gave him a brief hug before grabbing the keys and heading home.

Max walked slowly inside, reluctant to return to the oppressive atmosphere which was contained indoors. It was like watching someone dying, waiting for the final death throes to set in so that everyone could get on with their lives. The waiting was what made it all so hard, the knowledge that there was nothing anybody could do until they found out what was making Michael sick and what the government wanted. Nobody knew what they were monitoring, which was the truth and which the lies. Did they know about Max, Isabel and Michael, just biding their time or were they just containing a flu epidemic? Max peered through the front window and saw Maria sitting on the sofa, her hands over her eyes and Liz rocking her. He figured it was best to leave them alone for a little while. Clearly all the stress was taking its toll on Maria and Liz was the only one capable of comforting her or picking up the pieces. Poor Liz, she seemed to be the touchstone for everyone at the moment, carrying the burden of his fears and Maria's. Even Alex went to her for guidance and a sympathetic ear.

Maria let herself sink against Liz, the tears tumbling uncontrollably, "I'm just so scared, Liz." Liz stroked her hair, "Shhh, I know, I know, but it's going to be all right. Oh, Maria." Her friend sobbed her heart out for about ten minutes straight until she finally accepted the tissue Liz offered her and sat back against the cushion, stuffing one on her lap as a kind of comforting shield. "God, I'm so sorry, Liz. You've got your own problems to worry about, you don't need me crying like a baby." Liz laughed, "Hey, you're the one person who can get away with soaking my suede jacket!" Maria's mouth opened in shock, "Oh, Liz, look what I've done. God, I'm sorry."
"Would you stop apologizing?! How many times have you been around to pick up the pieces after me and Max had problems? Its about time you got your share. I'm just sorry we can't make it official with some Ben and Jerry's back at the Crashdown." Maria managed a laugh, but Liz knew that no joke was going to lift her out of her mood. What her friend really needed was a deep heart to heart and get all her feelings off her chest. "I know how you feel. I really do. There have been times when I truly thought I was going to lose Max, when it looked like we would never find a cure or a way to bring him back. It tore me apart inside like I'd never imagined possible." She studied Maria, unsure whether this was helping or not, but her friend raised her eyes in expectation, so Liz continued, "You remember when we talked about how it felt to kiss them...the way you kind of connected with every cell of your body?" Maria nodded mutely. "When Max was sick I felt the same way. I mean, I couldn't feel the exact pain in the way that Isabel can, but there was this aching inside, like a part of me was dying with him. I didn't know if I would be able to go on living if he wasn't with me." Tears started forming in her eyes as she forced herself to go on. Just thinking about what might have been and even the conversation she had shared with Max only a short while ago made the memories of that pain all the more clear. Maria's eyes were welling up too and they laughed weakly before hugging each other, "Now look at me! I'm as bad as you."
Maria laughed again, "So much for you owing me. I guess you've just knocked yourself back a notch." Liz wiped roughly at the tears and Maria handed her back one of her tissues. "Thanks, Liz. You're such a good friend to me." Liz squeezed her hand tightly, "I'll make us hot chocolate." She walked over to the kitchenette just in time to see Max emerge from the shadows. "Max! You frightened me!"
"Sorry." He looked a bit sheepish for a moment, "I didn't want to interrupt." He wanted to add that he hadn't been eavesdropping but that wasn't exactly the truth. It had been getting a bit chilly outside and he had come in just in time to hear Liz talking about her feelings for him. As usual, Liz decided to be the mistress of tact and simply asked, "Do you want hot chocolate?" Max sauntered over to her, "No. I'll just drink Maria's coffee if she's not going to have it." Liz nodded, tucking silky dark locks behind one ear. "Someone should probably go check on Michael." Max took a sip of the bitter liquid, grateful that it was cool enough to take a big swig. He hadn't realized how little he had eaten or drunk since that morning and it was suddenly all catching up with him. "I'll go."
Tiptoeing into Michael's room, Max twisted the blind open a bit in order to check that he was all right. The light cast cool blue lines across the bedspread and his friend's face as Max sat on the side of the bed. Michael's breathing was getting increasingly rapid until Max could see his chest straining to get enough air. He put out one hand and shook him lightly by the shoulder, "Michael? Hey, wake up!" A second later, Michael's eyes snapped open and he narrowed his eyes against the moonlight, staring up at Max's face. "Hey, Michael. It's me, it's Max. Are you okay?" Michael released the pent up air in his lungs and closed his eyes for a second. "Max? You were...are you here?"
"I'm right here. I'm with you." Michael lifted one hand feebly to his face, rubbing absently at his eyes, "Oh, it was just a dream. You were there...you and Isabel." Max's concern grew.
"A vision?" Michael paused, looking at Max as if he were about to tell him something but stopped. "No. Just a dream. It was nothing." Max was about to probe further when Maria came in,
"I heard voices. Is Michael okay?" Michael focused on her as she came over to the bed and sat down opposite Max. "Hey, you're awake. How are you feeling?"
Michael nodded, "Just a bit of a headache." Maria passed her palm over his forehead,
"Well, you're not hot." She turned to Max, "Is it worth giving him anything? Pills?" Max shook his head, "We'd better not risk it. We don't know what effect they might have." Liz's shadow darkened the doorway and she passed Maria a mug of steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows floating on the top. She gave Max a glass of water for Michael, then smiled at the patient, "You're the perfect guy, Michael. You've got ice cream in the freezer and mini marshmallows in your cupboards." He smiled weakly and took a sip of the water while Max propped him up.

A little while later, Michael had improved a little. He was sitting up in bed and talking to the other three, first about what they had found out and then on more general topics. For a short time, Maria could kid herself that there was nothing wrong, that the last seventy-two hours had all been some horrible nightmare from which she had just woken up. It wasn't to last long though.

They had been jovially discussing who was dating who at school, which was a real eye-opener for Max and Michael who never paid any attention to such things, when it happened. Michael turned a sickly shade of grey and started convulsing. Max was the first to catch him, grabbing his arms and lying him flat on the bed. "Liz! Help me hold him down!" Maria jumped up,
"Oh my God, Max! What's happening?" Max was struggling to keep Michael from hurting himself, "I don't know! Damn it! Come on, Michael!" Michael's eyes slid shut, a glimmer of colour showing through his nearly closed lids. The convulsions continued for a few minutes until they began to subside and Max sat back on the bed while Liz applied cool towels to Michael's forehead, who began to swim back into consciousness, mumbling something incoherently. Max leaned closer, "What is it, Michael?" Michael reached for the edge of the bed,
"I feel sick." He doubled up, clutching his stomach. Maria jumped up,
"I'll get a bucket." She brought it back just in time as Michael began retching over the side of the bed while Liz wiped the sweat from his brow. The vomiting went on for about twenty minutes until Michael had purged his body of everything. However, he dry retched for another twenty minutes until exhaustion took over. Unable to even find the energy to turn over in the bed, Michael lay with his head leaning over the frame, one arm flung out, sweat running from every pore. Max sat beside him holding the bucket while Liz wrung out the towels again and handed them to Maria. The room was a pitiful sight, towels and flannels strewn about the floor and chairs, the four figures numb and exhausted on the floor and bed. Maria supported Michael's head and tried to make him drink some more water, but at first he refused. "Come on, Michael. You need fluids. Don't fight it." He forced down a sip or two before resting his head back against the pillow, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He covered his face with his hands and Maria realized that