March 2013
New York City

Liz watched, a smile playing across her face, as her son swung his cousin Belle around. Belle squealed and giggled, her hair flying around her as Max turned in a circle, his arms outstretched, gripping Belle’s hands. Liz was packing up the baseball gloves, helmets and cleats that belonged to the kids when Beth approached her hesitantly. Liz looked up, smiling and brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. Beth returned the smile and kneeled down to help her.

"Aunt Liz, are you mad?" Beth finally asked, her voice barely a whisper as she looked at Liz fearfully. For just a second Liz was startled, until she realized that Beth was worried about the fight at school. Even though Liz wasn’t technically Beth and Mike’s aunt, as far as their parents were concerned they were all a part of a family. Liz reached up and tucked a curly ringlet of Beth’s blond hair behind her ear.

"No Bethie, I’m not mad," Liz replied. She sighed. "Just a little worried."

"Why?" Beth asked, her eyes honestly curious. Liz looked into the green eyes so like her mother’s and the openness there reminded Liz that the children had never experienced the kind of fear that Max, Michael and Isabel had. And even though Isabel tried, Liz knew that it was hard to make them understand.

"Honey, you kids need to realize that you are different and that if anyone found out about you, it would be so dangerous for everyone. You, Max, Mike, Belle and Isabel," Liz said. Beth’s eyes narrowed.

"But what about the rest of you? Aren’t you in danger too?" she asked.

"To a certain extent, yes. But we’ve chosen that path, you kids didn’t. That’s why your mother, Isabel, Alex and I try so hard to protect you," Liz said, standing and shouldering her book bag as Beth picked up the bag of baseball equipment. Beth was silent for a minute before she looked up at Liz.

"Would things be different if they were here?" she asked quietly. Liz knew immediately that Beth was referring to Max and Michael. She took a deep breath and thought before she answered.

"Yes, things would be different. I wish your father could see what a beautiful girl his daughter is," Liz said proudly. Beth blushed a little until Max called her name. A quick smile on her face, she turned to where he stood with Mike and Belle. He gestured her over and pointed to his back. She squealed and quickly dropped her bag, running over to Max and hopping on his back, piggyback style. Maria started to walk in Liz’s direction and she called out to her daughter.

"Elizabeth Amy DeLuca! Do you just expect the bag to carry itself?" Maria called. When Beth gave no response, she was too busy laughing as Max carried her, Maria sighed and picked up the bag. Liz grinned at her.

"Your daughter is such a sweetheart Maria," Liz commented. Maria’s eyes softened as she looked at her twins.

"And Mike just gets to be more and more like his father every day. God help us all," Maria said, her voice telling Liz she was kidding. They shared a smile before collecting the kids for the short walk to their apartment building. Mike picked up Belle behind him on his back as well and the kids walked in front of Liz and Maria as the two women talked.

"Where were you during the game? You looked like you went somewhere else for awhile," Maria said.

"Somewhere and sometime else," Liz said softly. Maria’s eyes questioned her, so she continued. "Prom night 2002. Roswell."

Maria nodded slowly and they walked a few more feet.

"Don’t you wish that you could have done something different that night? I mean, not take away Max, Mike and Beth, but that you could have woken up when he left, or convinced him to stay a little longer?" Maria asked. Liz nodded; knowing what Maria was talking about.

May 2002
Roswell

She’d fallen asleep in Max’s arms and slept through the night until early morning. She’d awoken to the sound of someone banging on the front door and an empty spot beside her in her bed. She found a robe and stumbled to the door, opening it to Isabel and Alex, still dressed in their Prom clothes. Isabel looked utterly frantic and Liz quickly let them in.

"Isabel, what’s wrong?" Liz asked. Isabel’s eyes darted around.

"Where’s Max?" she asked, her voice high and nervous. Liz returned to her room and found a note that Max had left. She returned to the couch and read it aloud.

"’Liz, went with Michael to get breakfast. Love you, Max’" Liz said as she tried to fathom what was wrong with Isabel.

"They’re gone," Isabel finally blurted out, her hands shaking. Alex stilled them with his own as she drew a shaky breath. Liz was stunned; the note fell from her numb fingers and fluttered to the floor.

"Isabel, what are you talking about? They can’t be gone," Liz tried to reason. Isabel vehemently shook her head.

"I don’t know how or why, I just know that they’re gone. We’re not psychic or anything, but I can always sense Max and Michael. It doesn’t matter how far away they are, I know if they are somewhere. We’ve been thousands of miles apart and I’ve still been able to sense them. I woke up at about 6:30 this morning when I felt some kind of fear from Max and then he and Michael just . . .vanished," Isabel choked out. Someone knocked on the door and Liz answered it, revealing Maria, her face a little concerned. Michael had left her early that morning as well and after Isabel explained what she’d felt, Maria sank down on the couch next to Liz.

"Does that mean they’re dead?" Maria’s voice whispered. Liz felt her vision fade at the thought and she felt sick to her stomach. Only Maria’s death grip on her hands brought her back.

"I don’t know," Isabel replied. When the doorbell rang a few minutes later Alex was the only one able to rise and answer it. The girls looked up as Alex’s surprised voice carried down through the hallway.

"Wh-what are you doing here? Um, ok, yeah, they’re in here," Alex said. They all looked up as Alex returned to the room with FBI Agent Kathleen Topolski following closely behind. Liz’s eyes widened as she caught Isabel’s fearful eyes. They hadn’t seen their former guidance counselor in over two years. When she’d left she had been excruciatingly close to discovering Max, Michael and Isabel’s secret.

"What do you want?" Isabel asked, her voice harsh. Topolski took it in stride, holding up her badge.

"I’m here on official business. I need to know if any of you know the whereabouts of Michael Guerin or Max Evans," she asked as calmly as if she were asking directions to a restaurant.

"Why?" Maria asked cautiously. Topolski fixed her gaze on her.

"Because they are wanted for questioning in regards to the murder of Sheriff James Valenti," she replied. Liz gasped and nearly choked at her words. She was saved from Topolski’s pointed glare by the ringing of the agent’s cell phone. As she spoke into it they all glanced at each other fearfully, not wanting to say anything in front of a potential enemy and yet still able to communicate their fear to one another.

"What? That’s impossible! He can’t be alive! I saw him shot! Fine," Topolski angrily turned off her phone and turned back to the group, obviously fighting for control. She pocketed her phone and glanced at her watch.

"It seems that I am needed at the police station. I’ll have questions for you later," she replied. Liz studied her carefully, noting her flushed face and quick words. As Alex let her out and returned Liz breathed carefully.

"Something’s not right," Alex commented. Maria shot him a glare.

"Besides our boyfriends being accused of murder?" she asked angrily. Instead of challenging Maria, Alex came over and put his arm around her.

"You know that’s not what I meant. Something’s not right with Topolski," Alex said gently. Maria nodded, tears gathering in her eyes.

"I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you," she replied. Alex kissed her forehead and rubbed her shoulders gently.

"I know you didn’t. We need to figure out what’s going on. I’ll call my mom at the hospital," Alex suggested, standing to use the phone in the kitchen. While Alex called for his mother, Liz stood and walked to her room, her throat constricting painfully at the sight of the tangled sheets on the bed and Max’s tuxedo strewn around the room. She pulled out the bottom drawer of her dresser, where Max kept some of his clothes from when he stayed the night and searched for a few seconds. She quickly realized that he was wearing his dark blue pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt that she’d gotten him for Christmas. It said "Harvard" across the chest and she’d bought it as a kind of good luck charm for their acceptance. It had worked; they'd both gotten the letters admitting them on the same day three months later. She knew every piece of clothing Max kept at her house. Picking up one of his sweatshirts, she walked to the window and looked outside where the sun had risen shortly before.

Even though she didn’t want to believe that Max was gone, she felt some truth to what Isabel had said. She missed him more than she usually did when he was away from her. They weren’t together twenty-four hours a day, but she always knew somewhere in the back of her mind that Max was ok. Her body was still humming from when they’d made love the night before. Their first time. Maybe their only time. Liz banished the thought from her mind as soon as it began, but she couldn’t stop the tears from falling down her face and dampening the sweatshirt. She felt more than heard Maria approach behind her.

"Alex’s mom was just in surgery with Sheriff Valenti. He’s alive, but not too good. There’s an APB out for Max and Michael," Maria’s last words sounded wooden and Liz turned to look at her friend, her eyes filling once again.

"Can you feel it too? What Isabel’s talking about? She’s right, they’re gone," Liz cried. Maria nodded, covering her eyes with her hands as she sobbed. Liz put her arms around her friend and they cried together until Isabel joined them, pulling them against her. Isabel had always been the strongest of all or them and Liz leaned against her, needing her strength.

It had been a month before the sheriff woke up. The four of them had graduated from high school, but none of them felt that it was right without Max and Michael there to walk down the aisle with them. There had been nothing other than the note that Liz had from Max. She’d remembered it a week after Prom and had spent frantic minutes searching under the couch where it had fallen until her fingers closed around the scrap of paper. Life continued.

Liz lost all her energy and drive. She was constantly sick, and she knew her parents were worried that losing Max caused her illness. She wouldn’t talk about her plans for college and she barely managed to struggle through her shifts at work. Her eyes were always tired and she never slept well. Isabel broke down after they left, she tried to be strong for Maria and Liz, but she shattered under her own grief. They all assumed that Max and Michael were dead. No bodies were ever found and Topolski had disappeared. There was only a sketchy picture of what might have happened that night, but the only witness who could say anything was in a coma.

According to Topolski, she had been returning to a field assignment in Roswell when she caught sight of the Sheriff’s truck where it was pulled over on the side of the road, lights flashing, next to Max’s jeep. She’d approached and gotten out in time to see Max shoot Sheriff Valenti. They had seen her and threatened her before jumping into the jeep and speeding away from the scene with the gun and any evidence. According to the report she had filed before coming to visit Liz and question her, Topolski had called for an ambulance immediately and after it picked the sheriff up she’s gone to the Parker’s. Liz knew immediately that something was wrong with the story. She knew with every fiber of her being that Max would never shoot anyone.

Alex tried to bolster their hope, pointing out the time gap from when the Sheriff called in that he was pulling over a to investigate a stopped driver at 6 am and when Topolski called for an ambulance at 7 am. Why did she wait so long? Alex continually pointed it out, knowing that the confrontation could not have lasted an hour. Liz barely registered the thought as Alex defended his theory. She’d even caught him defending Max and Michael to some careless gossipers in the Crashdown the other day. He’d lost two of his friends too, and the incident was the biggest news Roswell had had since 1947, which made it the topic of conversation.

Liz was wiping down the front counter when Isabel and Maria burst into the Crashdown. Their faces were lit up and for a second she felt hope flare. A shake of her head from Isabel dashed her hope that Max and Michael had been found, but she came around the counter to greet them.

"What’s going on?" she asked.

"Valenti woke up. And he’s been asking for you," Maria blurted out. Liz was puzzled. Why would the sheriff want to talk to her? When they finally got to the hospital, Alex was waiting outside the heavily guarded room that the sheriff had been in for the last month. Liz felt a twinge of pain at the sight of the police officers, she knew they’d been ordered because people feared Max and Michael might return. When she entered the sheriff had motioned her over to his bedside. She sat down cautiously and watched with trepidation as Valenti struggled to breathe and talk.

"Sheriff, do you need anything? Should I get the nurse?" Liz asked, concern etched on her face. He shook his head.

"No, Liz, I have to tell you what happened the night I got shot," he said. Liz’s heart stopped and she looked behind her at the door.

"I don’t know if I can hear this," Liz replied, fearful that the sheriff would tell her Max was dead.

"The police already know what happened. Max didn’t shoot me, Agent Topolski did," he coughed out. Liz sagged with relief.

"What happened?" she asked. Valenti breathed carefully before speaking, his voice hoarse.

"I was patrolling early in the morning when I spotted Max’s jeep pulled onto the side of the road and a government issued car next to it. I pulled up and saw immediately that Topolski had Max and Michael held at gun point. I demanded to know what was going on and when she wouldn’t respond I drew my weapon. She turned and shot me before I could do anything. I faded in and out of consciousness for awhile, but I heard bits and pieces of what was going on. Max yelled at her that he could help me and Topolski ordered him to stand his ground. I heard her tell them she would blame my murder on them. There was some kind of struggle and I heard a shot ring out. The last thing I remember was the jeep speeding off," Valenti said. Liz leaned forward.

"Do you know if anyone got shot? Max or Michael?" she asked.

"I think the shot went wild. I heard Max and Michael’s voices after the shot and then all I heard was Topolski in the background as I lost consciousness. They tell me she wasn’t very swift in calling the police," Valenti managed to say, a slight wry smile on his face.

"Thank you, Sheriff," Liz whispered. He caught her eyes with hers.

"No, Liz, thank Max. I don’t know all the things you kids have hidden over the years. It doesn’t matter. Max wanted to help me; despite what danger it meant for him. I only pray that someone finds them safe," he said. Liz reached out and squeezed his hand before standing and heading for the door. As soon as she got outside Isabel, Maria and Alex swarmed around her. Before she could say a word, she felt blackness creeping into her vision and she passed out.

When she came to she was laying on an examination table. Alex’s mother came in, a chart and clipboard in her hands, and her eyes both sad and serious at the same time. Liz felt her head pound as Dr. Whitman sat down next to the bed and opened her chart.

"Liz, are you sure you’re okay?" Maria asked for the millionth time as they slid into their usual booth at the Crashdown. Liz held up her hands.

"Guys, I’m fine, it was just stress and stuff. Let me tell you what Valenti told me," Liz said, knowing that Max and Michael would divert their attention. It worked as Isabel leaned in closer. She explained what the sheriff had told her and when she was finished, they all looked at each other, stunned.

"So they ran," Isabel said. Alex put his arm around her, pulling her against him.

"But why?" Maria asked, clearly frustrated.

"Because they thought it would be dangerous to stay. Topolski must have threatened to expose them, something. They probably thought that they would be blamed for Valenti’s death and that unless they left that we would all be pulled into the mess," Liz said, her voice steady as her hands trembled under the table.

"That explains why I can’t feel them," Isabel whispered. "They’re blocking me, so I can’t find them."

"God, I wish you could," Liz replied, her voice desperate. Isabel caught her tone and her eyes fixed on Liz.

"What is it Liz?" Isabel asked, instantly knowing that Liz had something more to say.

"I’m pregnant," she replied. All movement stilled at the table.

"So am I," Maria’s voice broke the silence. The girls looked at each other and smiled through their tears as Isabel reached out and took their hands.

"I guess that explains why you’ve been so sick," Alex replied wryly. They mustered smiles to one another. They knew that Max and Michael wouldn’t be back. They would have been too careful in disappearing to ever be found.

"We’ll still have a part of them here," Isabel said, her tears falling on the table’s surface.

March 2013
New York City

"Do you remember when we first got to New York?" Liz asked Maria. Maria grinned at the memory.

"I think I remember how hard it was to get here in the first place," Maria reminded Liz. She nodded and thought back to how her parents had been shocked to learn she was taking a scholarship at Columbia University instead of Harvard. They’d accepted her decision as a reaction to Max’s disappearance. Problem was, they had panicked when she told them she was pregnant.

Their words had stung. Their accusations of Max had hurt. She knew they were her parents, but she had expected a little more support from the people who had always treated her fairly. Except for their faulty belief that Max was not entirely good for her, she had always gotten along with her parents. When her mother had even hinted at an abortion, she had balked and practically flown into a rage.

There is nothing to consider. If you can’t accept this, then I’ll just leave.

Liz realized quickly that her parents couldn’t accept her decision and she had left Roswell that July. Maria had left with her and they’d traveled to New York. Liz hadn’t spoken to her parents in over ten years. Max had never even met his grandparents.

"Do you remember our first apartment?" Maria asked with a grin. Liz nodded.

"I remember the guy upstairs who constantly played polka music and the lady down the hall with the ten cats," Liz giggled at the memory, then her eyes grew serious. She looked down the street where the kids were walking ahead of them. "And I remember how hard those first few months were. Without you, I don’t know what I would have done."

"Believe me Hon, it’s been a mutual relationship," Maria replied. Liz nodded. She looked up as Max walked towards them, carrying Beth. Her arms were looped around his neck and she gave off a smile so like Maria’s.

"Hey Mom, are Aunt Isabel and Uncle Alex meeting us at home?" Max asked.

"Yes, they’re going to pick up a pizza and they’ll be there soon," Liz replied. Satisfied, Max swung Beth around and ran off to catch up with Mike and Belle. They were almost home; their apartment building was a few blocks west of Central Park on 81^st street. Liz glanced up at the buildings where light from the setting sun cast long shadows down the street. She watched her son and the others play and wished, not for the first time, that Max could see his son.

Max wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he trotted in from first base. The game was over and his team had actually won a game for once. The office team was one of the few times he actually bothered to socialize with anyone from work at all. He found that it easily distracted him from all the thoughts that plagued him every other waking moment.

"Maxwell! Come here!" Max was packing up his glove and sneakers when Jerry, one of the other writers at The Times, called him over. Max approached Jerry and the two women standing with him somewhat warily.

"Jerry, what’s going on?" Max asked, his hands in his pockets. Jerry gestured to the women standing next to him.

"This is my wife Carol and her sister Becca. Becca, this is, a colleague of mine from work, Parker Maxwell."