"But I fear I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
Here in this lonely place
Tangled up in your embrace
There's nothing I'd like better than to fall"

-- Sarah McLachlan,
"Fear" from Fumbling Towards Ecstasy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Have you seen Michael?"

Liz Parker glanced up from the table she was wiping down. Max Evans was pacing back and forth in front of her, more agitated than she had ever seen him. In all the years she had known him -- as a casual friend since third grade, as a lab partner since sophomore year in high school, as something indefinably more since the day he saved her life -- Liz had rarely seen Max less than reserved, less than controlled.

But now he looked almost panicked. "Max. I haven't," Liz said slowly. "What's going on?"

Max dragged a shaking hand through his hair. "I don't know. Isabel and I both got this feeling that we needed to find Michael ... that something was wrong."

"Does she know where he is?" Isabel asked, startling both Liz and Max who hadn't heard her follow Max into the Café.

"What's going on? Liz repeated, glancing from Max to Isabel then back to Max. "You guys are beginning to scare me."

Max shot a questioning look at Isabel, who shook her head almost imperceptibly in response. He tried to smile at Liz reassuringly. "Don't worry, Liz. It's probably nothing. Everything's probably fine."

Liz laid her dishcloth carefully on the table. "Max. I'm not going to fall apart if you guys tell me what's going on. I don't understand why you're so worried about Michael. I mean, Michael goes off all the time without checking in with you guys. He's just like that, I thought. You know. A loner."

Max shot another look at Isabel before answering. "This is different. I cant really explain it." Over Liz's shoulder, Max could see Isabel jerk her thumb towards the door. Returning his gaze to Liz, Max said gently, "We have to go. Don't worry, Liz."

Confused and not a little frightened, Liz watched Max and Isabel walk out of the Café.

* * * *

Maria DeLuca found Liz holding a dry cloth and staring into space when she walked into the Crashdown Café thirty minutes later. She pulled the cloth out of Liz's hand. "Snap out of it, Liz," she advised. "What's up, or should I guess?" When Liz didn't respond, Maria grinned. "Let's see." She began to tick off her conclusions on her fingers. "Max Evans came by the Crashdown. You stared longingly at each other. He looked down shyly. You looked down shyly. He said something adorably awkward. Then he left. Now you're spacing out, trying to figure out what's going to happen between you two." She rolled her eyes. "I can't understand why Max is so stubborn about your getting together. Anyone with quasi-reasonable eyesight can see the way you look at each other. You adore each other. You've adored each other forever. He eats you with his eyes. You do the same to him. Half the time, I feel like I'm too young to be in the same room as you guys."

"Maria!" Liz exclaimed, surprised out of her reverie. "You are so shocking sometimes. And you're
definitely not one to talk."

Maria wagged her index finger at Liz. "Don't change the subject, girl. As your best friend, I know what's on your mind. It's in the job description." Her grin widened. "And I know what's on your mind is almost always a certain tall, dark, and handsome Czechoslovakian."

"Stop, Maria. Enough," Liz laughed. Then her smile faded as she remembered Max and Isabel's abrupt departure earlier. Frowning, she considered whether she should ask Maria if she had seen Michael. Liz knew that Maria's feelings for Michael Guerin ran deeper than she would ever admit, and she didn't want to worry Maria unnecessarily.

"Watching you try to decide whether to tell me or not is making nervous," Maria remarked as she rinsed Liz's dishcloth. "I'll get it out of you no matter what you decide, Liz, so just spill. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Uh. Something." Liz took a deep breath, nervously re-tucking her hair behind her ears. "Maria. You can't get upset or worried on me, okay?"

"Okay--"

"Max and Isabel were here earlier--"

"I know that part, Liz. I'm going to turn twenty before you tell me what's going on if you keep going at this rate--"

Liz shifted uncomfortably. "Right. Max and Isabel were here. They were looking for Michael--"

"Big woo, Liz. What else is new? Michael doesn't show up for class except in leap years. He takes off for Texas -- in my car, with me in it as his oh-so-accommodating kidnap victim -- at the drop of a hat. He is not the most dependable, predictable person in the world--"

"No, Maria. This is different. I've never seen Max and Isabel like that. Max was shaking. He said that he and Isabel both felt that something was really wrong. Like Michael was hurt or something."

Maria dropped the cloth in the sink and snapped off the faucet. She fixed Liz with a fierce look. "What are you talking about, Liz? Michael's just probably off somewhere, doing Michael-type things--"

Liz grabbed Maria's hand. "Listen to me, Maria. Max and Isabel were not just worried. They were
frightened--"

"Why would they be frightened? Liz, you're scaring me. What's going on?"

* * * *

On the other side of Roswell, Max and Isabel were literally stumbling in the dark. In the commercial part of town, street lamps were few and far between, and shadows outnumbered patches of light.
Charcoal-dark clouds obscured what little light the moon afforded. To Max and Isabel, it felt like the
streets and alleys were closing in, hunching over to peer down on them, to pin them down, keeping them stranded and lost on the edge of town, the blackest fringes of Roswell. They heard footsteps echoing behind them. Voices seemed to bounce off the walls in front of them. They sensed that they were being followed.

Then the footsteps behind them gave Max an idea. He grabbed Isabel's arm and pulled her with him into a darkened alcove between two brick buildings.

"What are you doing?" she hissed.

Max put his finger to his lips. "Wait. Let whoever is following us go past. Then we can follow," he
whispered.

Isabel nodded, and they waited. Within five minutes, the FBI agent who usually trailed them hurried past their hiding place.

"Let's go," Max said. He and Isabel abandoned their alcove and followed the agent. The agent led  them to a derelict warehouse. Not far from the old soap factory, the red brick building was rundown and stale smelling, its windows boarded up in places, broken in others. Concentrating on remaining a safe distance behind the agent, Max and Isabel approached the building in cautious silence ... until a piece of plywood snapped under Max's foot, nightmarishly loud in the still darkness.

The agent spun around and visually scanned the area. Max and Isabel ducked behind the corner of the building just in time. The agent looked suspiciously in their direction, then shrugged and went inside. After a couple of minutes, Max and Isabel snuck up to the lit window. Inside, they could see two men standing by a desk. They could also see Michael.

He was slumped in a chair, his face swollen and bruised, his chin sunk into his chest. His arms were twisted and tied painfully behind his back, his ankles taped together. The bindings seemed to be the only reason he remained upright.

"Oh my god," Isabel whispered.

Max barely heard her. He could hardly control the fury building inside him. All he wanted to do was get Michael out of that chair, away from that room, away from those people. He wanted to hurt them as much as they had hurt Michael. For someone who prided himself on not letting things spin out of control, Max was having trouble controlling his spiraling emotions. But he had his sister to think about. He could tell Isabel was seriously upset. Taking several deep breaths, he said as soothingly as he could, "Iz. We're going to get him out of this. We can heal him. We just have to get him out."

Biting her lip, Isabel nodded. "What do we need to do?"

Max rubbed her arm reassuringly. "We need a diversion."

Isabel nodded again. "You get him out. I'll make our diversion," she said as she began to pick her way back around the corner of the building.

Max watched her until she was out of sight. Then he waited. He could feel his heart thudding too quickly in his chest. His hands were shaking; they had been shaking ever since he and Isabel had first felt that something was wrong with Michael. As he waited in the dark, Max knew that he was afraid, but he also knew that he needed to be as strong, as fearless as Michael would be if he were the one standing there waiting in the dark.

* * * *

Inside the building, Agent Stevens was bellowing into a telephone, eating a sandwich, and reprimanding Agent Moss all at the same time.

"What were you thinking, Agent? We've been tracking those kids for over two years. Your mission was to keep them in your sights at all times. What part of that mission was unclear, Agent? Was any part of that mission unclear, Agent? How difficult can it be to follow a bunch of eighteen year--" Agent Stevens’ tirade was cut off by a choking fit. He pounded on his chest with his sandwich. "Dammit. I'm so frustrated I can't even swallow my sandwich right. I have bread stuck in my esophagus. This always happens in this crazy town. Hold on a minute," he said into the phone. "You don't go anywhere," he told Agent Moss, pointing the remains of his sandwich in Moss' direction.

Suddenly there was a crash on the other side of the building.

Stevens glowered at Moss. "What are you waiting for," he barked. "Go check it out."

"Yes, sir." Moss pulled his gun out of his shoulder holster and headed out of the room in the  direction of the crash. After a couple of minutes, Stevens slammed down his cell phone and followed Moss, muttering under his breath about incompetent fools.

* * * *

Max watched them leave. Once he was sure they were gone, he used his powers to break the lock on the window. Then he pushed the window up as quietly and quickly as possible, and hoisted himself into the room.

"Michael!" Max whispered, dropping to his knees by the chair and beginning to fumble with the ropes. "Michael. Iz and I are going to get you out of here." After a couple of minutes of fumbling, Max swore under his breath and used his powers to slice through the rest of the rope. Without the bindings securing him to the chair, Michael fell forward. "Michael!" Max cried as he struggled to keep Michael from hitting the ground. He cast a frantic glance at the window, which was a good five feet off the ground. "Michael! You've got to help me somehow. You're not Liz or Iz or Maria here. We've got to get outside so that I can heal you. So I've got to get you through that window. C’mon. Help me."

Michael's head lolled backward. Blinking slowly, he mumbled, "Max? What are you doing here?"

"Now is not the time, Michael. Just help me get you out of here." Max pulled Michael to his feet and
half-shouldered, half-carried him to the window. Shoving the window open as far as it could go, Max struggled to lift Michael high enough so he could crawl outside. "Michael," he said, breathing hard. "Go through the window. Isabel will be waiting on the other side by now."

When Michael was halfway over the window ledge, Agent Topolsky, their old nemesis walked in. Her gun was drawn.

In a single movement, Max pushed Michael the rest of the way through the window then whirled around to face Topolsky. His action startled her. The gun went off, a dull pop in the close silence of the warehouse. The bullet burned through Maxis left side. He stumbled backwards in reaction, dazed by the pain that ripped through him, clouding his vision, crushing his ability to think. As he crumpled to the floor, Maxis last conscious thought was a hope that Isabel and Michael were able to get away.

Isabel was kneeling beside Michael, trying to form the healing connection that would give him enough strength to make it back to the Crashdown, when she heard the echoing gunshot. She stared at the window in horror. "Max!"

"Is he out? Where is he?" Michael mumbled.

Isabel jumped up and raced back to the building. Frantically peering through the window, she saw that Stevens had reentered the room. Max was collapsed on the floor, Topolsky standing over him, her gun pointed at his head. "He's still in there, Michael. Oh my god. Max."

"Good work, Agent Topolsky," Stevens was saying as he settled his cell phone back against his ear. "He's the one we wanted all along. The one who healed the waitress two years ago. The one whose blood was switched at the hospital. The one we have proof is different." He paused, looking around. "Now. Let's get the other two back in here. Where's Moss?"

Trembling, Isabel turned away from the window. "Michael, what are we going to do?"

Michael stood up weakly, bracing himself against the wall of the building, and grasped Isabel's arm. "Iz. Listen to me. We can't help him right now. I need time to recover, and you're too freaked out. We need to get away, and we need to get help." He pulled her away from the window. "Let's go to the Crashdown. Liz and Maria and Alex can help us. Isabel? Are you listening to me? We can't help him now. Let's get out of here." He looped his arm around her trembling shoulders as much for support as for comfort, and together, Michael and Isabel staggered away from the warehouse where Michael had been beaten and held captive, and where Max now lay unmoving in a spreading pool of blood.

* * * *

When he arrived at the Crashdown Café that evening, Alex Whitman found Liz and Maria huddled
together in one of the booths. Alex was in a good mood, having just fixed a tricky bug in his latest
programming project. He grinned at the two girls who had been his best friends since grade school. "So what are we doing this evening, Parker, DeLuca?" he said lightly. He was about to launch into a description of his recent success when he stopped, taken aback by their grim faces. Hoping he was misreading their expressions, Alex gave them a silly two-thumbs-up sign. "I can see we're having a good time?" Maria sniffled in response. "Okay," Alex sighed. "Tell me what's going on."

"Michael's missing," Maria stated baldly. "Max and Isabel were afraid and went to find him."

Alex sat down in confusion. "So? Why do you both look like death? I mean, nothing's happened right? And anyway I thought Michael was like that. So what's the big deal? Wait. Did you say that Max and Isabel were afraid?"

"I've never seen them like that before," Liz confirmed in a voice barely above a whisper. "They’re usually so in control, you know. I’m just afraid that something bad is going to happen." She clenched her hands together to stop them from shaking. "I’m afraid for them. For Max." Her voice broke.

Seeing that Liz’s tears had set off Maria again, Alex groaned. "Don’t start too, Maria. I don't understand females at all. For two supposedly rational human beings, you guys are losing it over something that isn’t even fact. Look. I’m sure everything is okay. Liz, Maria, just calm down. Tell me what happened from the beginning--"

Before either Liz or Maria could answer, they heard a knock on the window. Isabel and Michael stood outside the Café, silhouettes in the gaudy light cast by the Crashdown’s tilted-UFO sign. Michael was barely able to stand and looked like hell. Isabel was trembling so hard she couldn’t speak.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Maria kept repeating as she flew to the door to let them in. "What happened?!" She helped them to the nearest booth, sliding on to the seat beside Michael. She couldn’t resist running her hands over his face to make sure he was all right, with all his features in the right place, even if they were bruised and swollen.

Realizing that Maria wasn’t going to be much help, Alex took charge. "Lie down or lean against the wall or something, Michael," he ordered. "Isabel. Sit. Tell us what happened. Liz, do you have any bandages?"

Liz dashed to the back of the restaurant to find the first-aid kit. She brought it back to the booth and
emptied its contents on the table, sifting through the bandages and bottles for what they needed. As she searched, she kept an eye on the door, expecting Max to follow Isabel and Michael into the  Crashdown. Minutes ticked by. When Max didn’t appear, realization slammed through her. Liz’s suddenly nerveless fingers dropped the plastic bottle of alcohol she was holding. She watched it bounce crazily across the floor until it came to rest against the wall. Then her wide, frightened eyes sought Isabel's. "Where is he, Izzy?" she whispered.

Isabel choked on a sob. Everyone froze. No one in the room could remember the last time they had seen Isabel Evans emotional before, let alone in tears. Alex moved first, putting his arms around her shaking shoulders, trying to comfort her. Maria followed suit. Even Michael found the strength to reach a hand towards Isabel. Only Liz remained rooted to the ground, separate from the rest of the group, her insides churning with fear. "Please," she begged. "Isabel. Tell me. Where's Max?"

Isabel lifted drenched eyes to meet Liz’s. "He's still there." Isabel buried her face in her hands. "He was shot getting Michael out."

Wrapping her arms around herself, Liz gasped for air. "And you left him there?!" It felt like her lungs
were on fire. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t think.

Isabel sobbed harder.

"Lay off, Liz," Maria snapped, rubbing Isabel's shoulder soothingly. "They were obviously in no shape to mount a second offensive."

Still gasping for air, Liz backed away from the group, then turned and ran out of the Café.

Maria stifled the urge to follow her best friend. Looking down at Michael, who had lapsed into
unconsciousness again, Maria knew where her priorities needed to be. She had to remain calm. She had to help Michael. "Isabel," she said. "You have to pull yourself together. You need to heal Michael."

Swiping a hand over her eyes, Isabel nodded and bent over Michael's prone form. She positioned a hand over his rib cage and the worst of his internal injuries. A couple of minutes later, Michael's eyes fluttered, then opened wide. Maria released the breath she didn’t know she had been holding.

Michael's eyes tangled briefly with Maria's. His face softened. Then he seemed to remember what had happened, and he broke eye contact with Maria to scowl at Isabel. "Why did you do it?" he demanded.

"Save your life?" Isabel was confused.

"No! Why did you and Max come find me? It was bad enough that they had me. But they had no proof on me." Clearly feeling better, his cuts and bruises already fading, Michael got up from the booth and began to pace the length of the Crashdown. "But they had stuff on Max. Liz’s dress from that day he saved her. The hard suspicion that we switched blood samples at the hospital. They knew they had something on Max. They would’ve let me go. They would’ve tired of it." He slammed his fist into the counter. "They wanted you to come. They wanted Max. And now they have him."

Running a hand through his spiky hair, Michael resumed pacing. "This is so typical of him. Why is he always so damn protective? Who appointed him our fearless leader anyway? I’m completely fed up with the way he can be so condescending. He always thinks he’s right, always tells me what to do, always discounts my ideas. I was doing fine in that warehouse, even if I didn’t look like it. I may have had a plan even. But would he think that? No. He doesn’t trust me. He thinks he’s got to be a damn super-hero all the time. I’m just sick of it."

Isabel was beginning to get angry on Maxis behalf. "Michael. What did you want us to do? Just leave you there? You're being irrational--"

Michael snorted in disgust. "You can be just like Max sometimes, Isabel. Both of you put down what I say--"

Isabel was angry now. "We do not, Michael. You're being unfair--"

"No, I’m not, Isabel. And you know what else? It’s not my fault we're in this mess, with everything  out of control. You're always thinking things are my fault. That when things get out of control, it’s my fault. But this whole situation isn’t. It’s Maxis fault. He broke the rules we made when he healed Liz and then told her what we are. We should’ve left Roswell two years ago, when the first human found out about us. But Max didn’t want to leave Liz, so we're still here. We should’ve just left then--"

"Shut up, Michael," Isabel hissed, seeing Maria's and Alex’s stricken faces. "We all wanted to stay.  There were good reasons to stay. It wasn’t just Max--"

"No, Iz. It WAS just Max. If he hadn’t been so stuck on Liz Parker, we would have left. This would never have happened. Think about it. Maxis fatal flaw -- his love for this human -- is killing us. I told him that we shouldn’t get involved with them, but he didn’t listen, and now we're paying for it." Caught up in pouring out all the hurt, anger, and fear he was feeling, Michael didn’t hear Maria utter a wounded-animal sound as she leapt up from the booth and hurtled toward the door of the Café.

Liz, who had walked back into the Crashdown sometime during Michael's outburst, stopped Maria in mid-flight. "Don’t go, Maria," she said quietly. "I need you."

"I can't, Liz. I can't be in the same room with him. Did you hear what he said?" Maria's voice throbbed with betrayal.

Liz nodded, her eyes sympathetic. "I heard. But please don't go." Liz walked away toward the others, letting Maria decide for herself whether she wanted to stay or not.

Gathering her courage, Liz faced Michael, Isabel, and Alex. She drew a deep breath, and said: "Michael, you're right. This IS Maxis fault ... and mine. We knew being together was wrong, but we did it anyway. He told me he wasn’t afraid of getting hurt himself, but he couldn’t bear to hurt me, and I told him that wasn’t his decision. But we were wrong. We were so arrogant that we didn’t think that we would also be hurting all of you. We were so caught up in ourselves that we didn’t realize we were taking away your ability to decide for yourselves how you wanted things to happen." She paused, studying the paper menu she had scooped up from a nearby table, unable to decipher the names of the alien-themed dishes of the restaurant where she’d practically grown up. When she finally continued, her voice was so low they could hardly hear her. "But if it meant I could be with him, I would do all of it -- make all the same decisions -- again in an instant."

She looked up at them, her eyes pleading with them to understand. She dropped her gaze to the menu she was folding into smaller and smaller squares, and said softly, "There are these moments in life when everything becomes crystal clear, you know. These moments when you realize what's really important. Hearing Isabel say that Max had been shot, I knew what was important. I mean, I knew it before too. But at that moment, I knew absolutely that nothing matters to me without Max. I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating, knowing that I can't exist in a world that doesn’t also have him in it. Even if we aren’t together. Even if he insists that our love isn’t meant to be."

Her fingers shredded the menu. She swallowed convulsively. "When he first told me what he was -- what you all are -- he asked me not to tell anyone. He told me that his life was in my hands. But I told Maria. Then I told Alex. I lost my waitress uniform with the bullet-hole in it, and I almost lost my journal. I've broken my promise so many times." Her voice broke, but she kept going. "I've let him down so many times already. I’m not going to do it again. I’m going to get him out. Just tell me where he is." She looked expectantly at Isabel and Michael, reading the protest and denial on their faces but demanding an answer anyway. "I’m going no matter what," she said stubbornly. She set the little pieces of menu down on the table beside her. "He saved my life by putting his life in my hands. I’m not going to lose it now." When neither Isabel nor Michael said anything, Liz turned to leave. Maria was right behind her, hooking an arm through hers, reassuring her that she understood, that she would always be there for her.

"Wait!" Isabel cried after them as she slid out of the booth. "He's my brother. I’m coming too."

"Me too," Alex said quickly, standing up to follow Isabel. "You're going to need male back-up."

"Yeah," Michael agreed gruffly after another minute. "Count me in too."

* * * *

They found Max in the same room where Isabel and Michael had left him. The FBI agents had slapped a crude bandage on his left side but had left him sprawled, pale and unconscious on the floor. When she saw Max, Isabel pressed a hand over her mouth to stop the cry that rose in her throat. Alex squeezed her hand reassuringly, trying to be supportive without being intrusive. Liz and Maria hugged each other, drawing strength from their years of friendship. Michael went into commando-mode.

"Alex," he ordered, nodding towards the window. "Keep an eye on those guys." He scanned the area quickly. "Okay. We need a plan."

"I've got a plan." Liz said quietly, tearing her eyes away from the window and the still form of the one person who meant more to her than anyone or anything else in the world.

"Okay, what is it?"

"It’s pretty simple." Liz quickly related the details.

"It’s not going to work," Michael scoffed. "Too much can go wrong--"

Maria placed a hand on his sleeve. "Just shut up, Michael." It was the first thing she had said to him since his outburst at the Crashdown. "Let Liz finish."

"Wait!" Alex’s voice was urgent, his hand waving behind him for silence. "Something’s going on. I can't see.... Wait. It’s Valenti. Valenti’s in there. He's arguing with the FBI guys."

"What?!" All five teenagers rushed to the window.

"Oh my god. How are we going to get Max out now? It was bad enough before." Isabel's voice cracked. "He's dying, and we can't do anything." She lurched backwards away from the window. Her knees buckled beneath her. Alex was beside Isabel in an instant, helping Maria catch her as she fell. Between the two of them, Alex and Maria helped Isabel sit on the ground. They stayed on the ground beside her, chafing her hands, trying to comfort her.

Watching them, Liz tried to think about how to deal with this new situation. Worrying her bottom lip, she forced her mind to think. Her new plan was audacious, but it could work. On winged feet, she was around the corner and into the building before any of her friends could stop her.

"What the hell," Michael muttered.

Maria sprang to her feet and grabbed Michael's arm. "Where is she going?"

"Let go of me." Michael shook her off. "I don't know. She’s your best friend. Aren’t you supposed to read each other’s minds or something?"

Maria shot him a sarcastic, you’re-not-being-funny look. "Do you read Maxis mind?"

Michael stiffened. "I never know what's going on in Maxis mind these days." He turned his back on Maria to look through the window again. He swore under his breath. "She’s crazy. Liz is totally crazy. She’s actually in there with Valenti and the FBI guys. What's she trying to do? Reason with them?"

Maria stood on tiptoe beside him to see what was happening. Her lips twitched to one side in a half-smile. "No. She’s not crazy. She’s in love." Maria sat back on her heels and shot him a bitter look. "Something you wouldn’t know anything about, Michael."

* * * *

"Sheriff Valenti?" Liz said loudly, trying to focus the attention of the room’s occupants on herself.
"Sheriff Valenti, I've been trying to reach you for the past hour. I thought you should know about these illegal activities in your jurisdiction." Liz battled to keep her voice steady. Involuntarily, she glanced at Max. He was so pale. His chest barely rose and fell as he breathed. She wished he would move even a tiny bit so she could have some hope that he was going to be okay. Wrenching her eyes away from Max, she re-focused on the enemies in the room.

"Miss Parker." Sheriff Valenti’s voice was flat. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. "How nice of you to join us." He looked meaningfully at Agent Stevens. "Our citizens are the concerned sort, as you can tell. Miss Parker’s family goes back four generations in the Roswell area. She comes from good stock. Same story with Mr. Evans here."

Liz blinked at the lie. Max was adopted, and the sheriff knew that. He even suspected the right reason that Max and Isabel and Michael didn’t know who their birth parents were. The sheriff continued, "The laws of New Mexico tend to frown on federal agents shooting the children
of upstanding families, Agent Stevens. They also tend to frown on federal agents leaving those children without medical attention." He paused. "Now, as Miss Parker just pointed out, you're on my turf. You have no jurisdiction here. I've talked with your superiors, Agent Stevens, and they agree with me. Your vendetta has gotten out of hand."

Agent Stevens sputtered, "MY vendetta?"

"These kids are my problem, Agent, because this is my town. Now you and your little FBI boy scouts are going to get out of my town. And I’m going to get that boy to a hospital." The sheriff  turned to Liz and nodded her towards Maxis unmoving form.

Liz didn’t need a second urging. She sprinted to Maxis side, falling to her knees beside him, her hands tracing the curves of his beloved face, delicately fingering the wound in his side. "Max," she whispered, leaning in close to assure herself that he was still breathing. "Max. It’s Liz. You're going to be okay."

"Liz?" Maxis voice was groggy with pain. "What are you doing here?" He took a rattling breath. "Michael? Is Michael okay?"

"He's fine. Don’t talk, Max. We've got to get you help first." Liz was worried. Max seemed so weak. Trying not to jostle his injury, Liz took hold of his right arm and started to ease him up off the floor.

Sheriff Valenti was there to support Maxis other side. "Let's get him to a hospital."

Liz glanced quickly at the sheriff and decided to tell him the truth. One more promise broken, she
thought. Please forgive me, Max.

"He doesn’t need a hospital," she said in a low voice so the FBI agents couldn’t hear. "Michael and Isabel can heal him."

Valenti stared at her. "Are you telling me what I think you're telling me?"

"Yes." Liz couldn’t look at him. "Please. Help me get him outside." Between them, Liz and Sheriff Valenti got Max outside and on the ground a small distance away from the warehouse.

Michael, Isabel, Alex, and Maria were waiting under the window. When they saw Liz and Max, they ran to help. But they stopped dead when they saw Sheriff Valenti. They didn’t know how to react to the sheriff’s presence. He had been their pursuer too long. They didn’t know his intentions. But healing Max was a greater priority than being afraid of what would happen next.

A tear tracked down Isabel's cheek when she saw her brother. "He looks so bad," she murmured
brokenly.

Michael touched her arm. "It’s okay, Iz. We can heal him." Realizing what he had just admitted, Michael shot a look at Sheriff Valenti then at Liz. Liz met his look squarely, her eyes bleakly apologetic. Swearing under his breath, Michael looked down at his best friend and came to a decision. "After all," he said quietly, staring directly at the sheriff, "Max did it for Liz two years ago." He paused, looking embarrassed. "Actually, you’d better do it, Isabel. I’m not always the best at this kind of stuff."

Isabel nodded, reading both frustration and fear in Michael's words. Studying him, Isabel realized  that Michael looked as if he were feeling Maxis pain in his own body. Her gaze shifted to Alex and Maria. They were standing with their arms around each other. Both of them looked terrified but determined to help. Isabel's eyes came to rest on Liz last. She had curled herself on the ground beside Max, her face wet with tears, her hand stroking his hair off his forehead, her lips moving close to his ear, murmuring reassurances about love and fear. This is one of those moments Liz was talking about, Isabel thought wonderingly, one of those moments when everything is crystal clear. In that moment, Isabel understood that these four people meant more to her than anyone except her brother. They were all strong and loyal. They were each afraid of different things: Isabel herself of being different; Michael of being put down and ignored as stupid because that was what his foster father did; Alex of being left out in the cold and friendless because that was how he felt at school sometimes; Maria of being abandoned as her father had abandoned her; Liz of living without a plan, of losing control enough to force Max into losing his. But they had all overcome their fears because they cared enough about each other to reach out and become friends.

Crouching beside Max, Isabel tasted new tears run into her mouth. "Hold him tight," she whispered to Liz, as she peeled away the crude bandage covering his left side.

Liz gave a small laugh and nodded. "I’m never letting him go after this."

Standing apart from the group of teenagers, the sheriff watched the events unfold. It felt strange for
him to realize that everything he had ever believed was true. He was about to see absolute proof that his father had not been insane. He felt a rush of triumph as he watched the hand Isabel Evans placed over her brother’s wound begin to glow.

When Isabel touched his side, Max shuddered. "Max, look at me," she ordered, grabbing his chin. He was beginning to shiver uncontrollably. "Liz, do something. This is a lot worse than what happened to Michael. He's lost so much blood.... I can heal the wound, but I can't replenish the blood. I need you to hold him still so I can at least heal the gunshot wound."

Frightened that she was losing him, Liz tangled her arms around Max, whispering into his ear: "I love you, Max. Please stay with me. I love you." In the warmth of her embrace, Max stopped shivering.

Isabel used that moment to make the healing connection. She replaced her hand over Maxis wound, and closed her eyes. Her hand glowed then faded. Max didn’t move.

"Max?" Liz whispered, resting her forehead against his, her eyes shut tightly. "Max, open your eyes.
Please." Tears squeezed out from beneath her lashes.

Minutes passed. No one moved. No one breathed.

Then Max reached up to tuck Liz’s hair behind her ear. "Hey," he said quietly. "How’s my girl?"

"Your girl?" Liz laughed and flung her arms around his neck. "Fine. Now that you're okay. Max. I can't live without you. I can't breathe if you're not there. I love you so much. I was so afraid--" Her words tumbled on each other as she told him what lovers had told lovers for centuries -- that for her, the sun rose and set in him, that her heart beat for the thought of him alone. Max pulled her into his arms properly and kissed her, cupping her face gently, returning her promises of eternal love, his voice urgent and low.

"Whoa," Maria interrupted, an indulgent smile on her face. "Cool it, you guys. You have an audience."

Blushing, Liz and Max fell apart. But Liz didn’t move away completely. She stayed close to Max, still touching him, almost afraid that he would disappear if she let go.

"I guess that’s what a near-death encounter will do to you," Michael observed, but his tone was more wistful than mocking. Maria and Isabel exchanged a shocked look. He ducked his head to hide his expression. "What?" he demanded gruffly.

Maria's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Nothing, obviously."

Michael ignored her. Now that the crisis was over, he could only think about its consequences. He
frowned at the sheriff, who was still watching their every move with avid interest. "So what do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" Max asked, sitting up gingerly, still wrapped in the shelter of Liz’s arms. He was still too pale but was improving rapidly.

"I know what he means." Everyone jumped at the sound of Agent Topolsky’s voice. The former
guidance-counselor-turned-FBI-mole stepped out of the shadows near the warehouse door. "And I know how to take care of this situation."

Intense fear raced through the six teenagers. Their fear connected them utterly. Identical nightmarish images of dissection tables and cattle prods and sharp scalpels flashed through their minds.

But before anyone could react, Topolsky sank a hypodermic needle into Sheriff Valenti’s upper arm. The sheriff tried to yank himself away, but she had the element of surprise on her side. Within seconds, Valenti toppled to the ground.

"Why did you do that?" Liz cried, her eyes reflecting the stunned expressions of everyone around her. She tightened her arms around Max. "He helped us get Max out. He isn’t a bad guy."

Topolsky carefully capped the needle and dropped it into her jacket pocket. She shook her head. "It’s not safe for anyone to know what he just saw. I just injected him with an amnesia-inducing chemical. He’ll wake up in the morning with a headache but no lasting damage except the complete non-remembrance of this entire evening."

The six teenagers stared, unable to absorb what was happening. Finally Alex asked, "Why are you doing this?"

Agent Topolsky smiled at her one-time favorite student. "I don't work for Agent Stevens or for Sheriff Valenti. I work for a branch of the government you’ve never heard of, one that specializes in cases like this one." Her mouth twisted wryly as she gazed up at the night sky. "I've been playing double-agent for so long that I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to be honest."

Alex frowned. "Double-agent? What? You're like the MIB or something?"

Topolsky smiled again. "Something like that. I was sent here to find and protect the alien who healed Liz Parker." She glanced at Max, then at Isabel and Michael. "My mission was enlarged when I learned there were three aliens. I was told to protect all of you."

"But you said that none of us could be safe with Max Evans around. I remember you said that. And you left Roswell." Alex was still struggling to understand. His bewildered face comically mirrored those around him.

Agent Topolsky shrugged. "It wasn’t the right time to reveal my cover."

"It sounds like you’ve done this before," Alex continued when she didn’t elaborate. "Like this is something the government does all the time. Does this mean there are more aliens?"

Everyone froze.

Topolsky sighed and looked away. "I can't answer your questions, Alex. I’m sorry." She looked  back at the warehouse then down at the sheriff. When she spoke again, her voice was clipped and to-the-point. "My mission was to protect the aliens in Roswell, New Mexico. I have neutralized the FBI agents inside the warehouse. I will make sure that the sheriff gets back to his office so that he has no suspicion of anything stranger than a hangover when he wakes up. The last thing I need to do to complete my mission is to erase all FBI files related to this incident and preceding events." She stared at Max and Liz’s linked hands. "My agency will keep an eye on you from a distance. But you should be able to lead normal lives." Pulling a cell phone out of her back pocket, she turned to leave. Then she turned back. "I told you I was on your side," she said pointedly to Liz and Alex. Then she walked away, pressing buttons on the phone she went.

"Did that just happen?" Alex asked, sounding as dazed as everyone felt.

"I think it did." Isabel was beginning to smile. "Max. Michael. We don't have to run. We won’t have to leave Roswell." She took Alex’s hand. Alex looked down at their joined hands with something akin to amazement. Then he grinned.

"She said we could lead normal lives," Max agreed softly, smiling into Liz’s eyes.

"She also said that she couldn’t answer our questions," Michael reminded them. "Which means she knows more than she’s telling." Michael was already thinking ahead, already eager to restart his  quest to find out who and what they were and where they were from.

Maria grabbed Michael's arm, dragging him back into the present. "Let's just enjoy this moment, okay? I know it’s difficult for you to be happy even for a minute. But just try. For me."

Michael stared at Maria. Gradually, his face softened into a smile. "For you," he repeated slowly.

Maria nodded. "Yeah. For me."

The six friends separated into pairs as they headed back home. Liz and Max walked a little ahead of the others, content just to be together. Their happiness was a tangible thing between them. Isabel and Alex followed, talking quietly together, exploring the newly opened door to their relationship. Maria and Michael brought up the rear, bickering as usual, but their barbs were gentler than they had ever been.

When they were halfway home, Maria stopped, holding Michael's arm to keep him with her behind the others. She looked up at him intently. "Michael, I have to ask you. Did you mean everything that you said in the Crashdown?"

Michael didn’t pretend to misunderstand what she was talking about. He recalled every detail of his
outburst in the Crashdown. He looked at Max and Liz, walking ahead of everyone, their arms around each other, their bodies leaning together, naturally in step. He looked back at Maria, and said quietly, "No. I don't think anyone can deny that depth of feeling. It’s like a Fabergé egg, fragile and breakable, but so beautiful that it has a kind of strength you can't even imagine."

Maria stared at Michael. "That was beautiful. I've never heard you say anything like that before."

Brushing a finger along her cheek, he smiled sheepishly. "I know. I’m finally beginning to understand what it’s like." Then he kissed her.

Far in front of Michael and Maria, Liz said softly, "Max, I was so afraid I would lose you." She leaned her head against his chest, feeling his heart beating exactly in time with hers under her cheek. "There are so many things in the world that I’m afraid of, but nothing more than the thought of losing you. Because being without you is the only thing that I can't live with." She knew she was simply voicing what his eyes had already told her. "Max. My life is in your hands as much as yours ever was in mine." She smiled at him, her heart in her eyes. "No more stepping back, Max."

Max smiled gently. "No more stepping back," he promised. "Liz. Being in love with you is the only real thing I have ever felt. My whole life." Tilting her chin up, he kissed her lightly. "No matter what we go through, it’s all worthwhile for me -- it will always be worthwhile for me -- because we're together."

Smiling back, finally understanding that her place amongst the stars was less important than walking beside Max, seeing his sweet smile, listening to him breathe beside her, strong and warm and alive, Liz tucked her hand into his, and they walked home together.