posted on 17-Sep-2001 10:40:03 PM by jezebel617
Repost here: viewthread?forum=repost-fan-fiction&id=315

Return to Innocence, Part 15b
Author: Jezebel (imfromupnorth⊕
Rating: Will probably be NC-17 eventually, for violence if not sex
Summary: A totally different universe--the aliens came much earlier, and now
the children they've left behind will become involved in one of Earth's
turning points.
Disclaimer: I do not own Roswell. I do not own Max, Michael, Isabel, Liz,
Maria, Alex, Tess, Kyle, Sheriff Valenti, Topolsky, or any other Roswell
character. I don't own Jason Behr (damn!). If you want to sue me, have fun.
You can take my computer, cuz it's just about the most valuable thing I own.
But beware--my computer's name is Bob, and he bites.
Archive: No problem, just tell me where.

Max stared at her for a few moments, before finally giving up and leaving
the room. Curious to see just how self-sufficient she really was, he
grabbed her wheelchair and eased it into her room, leaving it just out
of arm's reach from her bed. He knew it was cruel, but he had to make
her see reason. He couldn't heal her against her will; to him that would
be like rape, violating and changing someone's body against their will.

He walked into the little kitchen and shook his head at the lack of supplies.
There were eggs and buttermilk in the icebox, however, and an idea sprang
to Max's mind.


Liz rolled over, a heavenly scent filling her nostrils. *Pancakes*, she
thought dreamily. How long had it been since she's had a proper meal?
Not since leaving the boarding house three days prior. She looked at her
chair, too far from her bed to grab and pull over. She never would have
left it that way. She thought for a second, then cursed Max.

"Fuck you!" she yelled.

Max's voice echoed into the hallway. "They smell good, don't they? I found
some butter and some powdered sugar, too."

Against her will, Liz's mouth watered. "Go to hell!" she shouted, but her
voice faltered a little. She couldn't get that amazing smell out of her
nose. Max cooked. She'd never known he could cook. In fact, she'd never
been aware of meeting a man who could cook, and here had been one standing
right in front of her the entire time.

She shook herself. What the hell was she thinking about? She dragged herself
to the edge of the bed and threw one arm over. It fell inches short of her
chair. She muttered to herself and looked around for something to pry it
towards her. There was nothing.

Out in the kitchen, Max started humming. She was awake now, and he knew what
would be coming at any second.

After a few seconds, he heard a dry, empty voice say, "Max. Come here please."

He lifted the pancakes off the griddle and deposited them onto a waiting plate.
"Just a minute, Liz." He took the plate in one hand and ambled off toward the
bedroom. He knew she'd be able to smell him approaching.

The first thing she looked at was the plate in his hand. Her eyes focused on
it for several seconds, and then she seemed to shake herself and said, "Why
the hell did you put my wheelchair where I couldn't reach it?"

He put the plate down on her dresser and leaned against the door. "I wanted
you to admit something."

"What's that?"

"That you need my help. That you can't live like this. That, that what
happened in the bathtub this morning was the result of you not being
able to take care of yourself, whether it was an accident or not. That
I can help you." His voice cracked a little on the last sentence and
she almost smiled.

Then she said, "You can't help me, Max."

"Yes, I can. But you have to let me."

"No," she whispered, the pancake aroma almost nauseating her.

Max crossed the room to her bedside and said sharply, "Liz, look at me."

She turned slightly, puzzled. "What?"

He grabbed her and kissed her again, hating what he was doing to her, hating
the risk he was putting himself in, but knowing it was necessary. She had to
see. She had to understand.

Liz pulled back, looking dazed. "What was that?"

"That was the day I realized that Isabel and I weren't alone in the world, Liz.
That there are others like us. I would have died, but he saved me."

Her eyes were filling with tears. "He forgave you."

Suddenly he realized she'd seen the whole memory, not just the censored version.
"I think so."

"He knew it wasn't your fault," Liz said, her eyes blank. "I'm so glad."

"What? Liz..."

She smiled at him. "I don't deserve your help either. I killed him, you know.
He died because of me. And you almost did, too..."

"Liz, stop this!" He was almost shouting at her. "Stop pitying yourself. You
didn't kill Alex, the goddamned Germans did. You didn't kill me either. I'm
here, I'm fine. If you let me heal you, you'll be fine too. Nothing can
bring Alex back, but you need to move on. You need to start dancing again."

She looked up at him, her eyes still glassy. "Okay."


"Do it, if you can. Heal me."

His heart thudded violently in his chest. "Are you sure?"

Liz nodded.

"Ah, okay. Roll over onto your side." She did with his help, and then she
titled her head to look up at him. He put one hand on each side of her spine.
"Okay," he said, drawing a breath. His mind probed for the broken bones first.
They were still only partially healed. He moved the leftover fragments back in
and healed them in place. He looked at Liz's eyes. They were wide, watching

"Don't move," he murmured. "This might hurt."

Max probed past the healed vertabrae to the thin cord they protected. Almost
absently, he re-formed the cushions between each vertebra. He could sense
the spinal cord itself, severed through in two different spots. There he
hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Then it came to him, and he wound the
tiny nerve fibers back together, restoring them to their original state.
He heard Liz moan. "It hurts," she said.

"I bet," he said grimly, and took one last look at his handiwork. Everything
seemed normal. He stepped back. "Stand up, Liz."


"Just what I said."

She hesitated, and then, with agonizing slowness, began to move her legs. "They
feel funny," she whispered.

Max said nothing.

Liz swung her legs over the edge of the bed, her eyes still wide. She stood up,
her legs shaky. Then she took a step forward and almost keeled over. Max rushed
forward to catch her. "My legs don't work," she muttered.

He laughed. "Yes, they do, Liz. Your muscles are atrophied. You haven't used
them in months."

"Oh," she said with a groan, leaning her weight on him. "Can't you fix that, too?"

"Nope, that's up to you." He could have rebuilt some of the muscle tissue, but he
wanted her up and around, building it on her own.

"Well...can I at least have those goddamned pancakes?"

Author's Note: The feedback on this one has been worse than dismal lately, so if you don't want me to continue, let me know, okay?

"We are feedback junkies. It's like crack, only harder to get." --EKM 6/11/01

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.

[ edited 2 time(s), last at 7-Nov-2001 7:30:04 PM ]

posted on 20-Sep-2001 10:13:20 PM by jezebel617
Wow was so nice to see this pop up to the front page just as I'm working on the next chapter...thanks for the fb y'all!

"We are feedback junkies. It's like crack, only harder to get." --EKM 6/11/01

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.

posted on 21-Sep-2001 1:21:27 AM by jezebel617
Part 16

Liz finished her pancakes with a slurp and eyed Max's hungrily. He laughed
and pulled his plate closer. "Uh uh. I don't think so."

She pouted, and Max noticed how thin her face had become. "Oh, okay." He
pushed the plate in her direction. She smiled and speared a piece of sugar-
coated pancake with her fork. Max relished the light in her eyes when she
did that.

He lifted the wrist of her left hand off the table, trying to guage how much
weight she'd lost since their graduation over a year ago. "What are you
doing?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied, dropping her hand back on the table. Skin and bones.
She was 5'4" tall, and she couldn't have weighed any more than ninety-five
pounds. Not deathly thin, but definitely unhealthy for her frame. A
twenty pound loss in a year. Not much for someone like him, but for her,
that meant nearly twenty percent of her total body weight.

She could have as many pancakes as she liked.

Liz frowned. "Why are you staring at me?"

"I was just thinking how cute you look eating all those pancakes."

Instead of having the effect he'd hoped, his words seem to cause the light
in her eyes to falter. She stared at her plate and Max cursed himself.
What had he said now? "Why are you doing this? Why are you so good to
me? I don't deserve this, Max. I had what I deserved. I'm a terrible
person, and I've done terrible things."

"Liz, just stop. Stop it. I don't care what you think you did. I love
you, okay? I always have, and like the idiot I am, I never realized it.
But I know it now, and I know you, and I know that you're not capable of
doing *anything* as bad as you seem to think you have."

Her face crumpled. "I can't love you, I can't!"

"Ssshhhh," he whispered, leaving his chair and crossing to her side of
the table. He took her face in his hands, thick brown hair falling over
his fingers. "What did you do that was so terrible?"

Her pale skin turned ashen. "You know the day we left for Italy?"

Max nodded. He remembered only too well.

"I told him that I didn't love him and that I'd fucked you for fun," she


Max had backed away about a foot and then frozen, his hands in the air.
Liz looked at him, her eyes so dull, so dead. "Did I ever tell you how
Alex and I met?"

Max shook his head silently.

"We were in kindergarten together. The elementary had that big swingset
on the playground, you must remember it. Anyway, some of the other boys
had talked me into swinging, higher and higher and higher, until I could
barely breathe, I was so afraid. I could hardly even hear what was going
on around me, just the boys, taunting me, higher and higher, my skirt was
flying up in the wind, but I couldn't stop swinging. Then all the boys
were gone, and Alex was there instead. He scared them off, and just
stood there below the swingset, just outside the arc of my feet. And I
watched him, and he watched me. Our eyes met, and I slowed down, and got
off the swing." She hesitated. "We were inseparable from that moment on."

She said dully, "I can't live with myself anymore. I knew that he could
be killed, at any moment, and I still broke his heart. And I was cold, Max,
I was so cold to him. I told him I didn't love him, Max, and I do, I always
did. I didn't know what to do, or what to say. I couldn't marry him, but I
wanted to. So I broke his heart, and I did it on purpose. I even used you to
do it. And the next month--the next month--" she choked on her own words.

Max's face was green. He looked as though he might be sick at any moment.

Liz looked at him, and then out the window. "When I got the letter telling
me he was dead, suddenly it all made sense. That's why our plane was shot
down. It was for me. It was retribution for what I did, and for that I had
to spend the rest of my life in that goddamned chair. But when you showed me
that--that vision, I was so happy. He forgave you. I used you to hurt him,
but in the end he forgave you. And I thought, maybe I could be forgiven too.
Maybe that's why you were here, to help me. But Max...I don't deserve this,
any of it. I don't deserve these fucking pancakes. I killed a man. I might
as well have shot him in the heart, because I saw his face when I told him
I never loved him. It was horrible, Max. And then he walked right into enemy
fire, on that beach in France. He died in pain, didn't he, Max? And if he'd
still been with you, he would have been fine, because you could have healed

Max sat on the table behind him heavily. The plates clinked and he jumped
back up. "Why-why did you do this? Why? Why would you say something like
that to Alex?"

She closed her eyes. "The night before you two left, Alex and I...we made
love for the first time. I know you thought we were together before that,
but we never were. was nice, I guess. It hurt more than I thought
it would. But there was something wrong. I didn't feel anything. Not
physically, but emotionally. We had just taken the final step in our
relationship. He'd even asked me to marry him. And I felt *nothing*.
He was still my friend. But I knew I should have felt something more, and
I told him that. I told him that I still wanted to marry him. But I know
he was really hurt, because he never wrote me. And what was I supposed to
say to you, when you asked me why?"

Max moaned slightly. He was leaning his weight against the wall, trying to
keep his knees from going out from under him. He could have done something
this entire time, but he'd done nothing. This was his fault, as much as

Liz was watching him again. "I know what you're wondering," she said softly.
"You're wondering why I seduced you."

A smile almost flitted across his face. "According to everyone at camp, I
seduced *you*."

"That's the funniest part, isn't it? When it came down to it, I couldn't tell
Alex that we needed break up, I guess. I just couldn't. When I first
saw him, after you two came from the bombing, he just smiled at me and he
grabbed me and hugged me, and he said, 'I missed you so bad, Liz. I can't live
without you.' And after that, I couldn't say it. Whenever I tried, I just
choked up. I kept seeing that dream I had when I was six years old, of me and
Alex getting married in a huge old church. And I couldn't break it all by
myself. And I'd seen you, before I saw Alex...wait, that was how you survived
the bombing, wasn't it? healed yourself, or something."

Max nodded.

She laughed a little shakily. "Well, I guess that just throws a new spin on
things, doesn't it?"

He looked at the floor. "I should have told you years ago. You're taking it
pretty damn well."

Liz snorted. "I'm not taking it well. I'm still in shock. You're--I don't
know what you are. *You* don't even know what you are, but you're...oh God,
I can't even get into this right now."

"You still haven't told me...why..."

"Oh...I had always wanted you. Always, and it seemed so wrong. But that day,
it occurred to me how I could hurt you both without...hurting you. Because I
couldn't have you both. I could just sleep with you, and the rumors would go
around, and I wouldn't even have to break up with Alex. But when he confronted
me, I knew it would take more, and like the sick bitch I am, I broke his fucking
heart." Her lower lip was trembling, but Max didn't notice. He was still stuck
on one sentence.

"You...wanted me?"

"Of course, Max...I love you. I always have. But I'm supposed to love Alex,
because that's the way the fairy tale goes."

"You really did want me," he whispered.

"I was just using you."

"You love me," he said, his face slowly widening into a smile.

She shook her head. "You shouldn't love me back."

"But I do," he said firmly. "Listen, Liz. What you did was a mistake. But...
you can't spend the rest of your existence believing that you're going to be
punished for it. You need to move on."

"I can't," she choked. "I still love you, and that's what's keeping me here,
instead of running away from everything."

He had left his spot on the wall and was approaching her. As she looked up,
he leaned down, cupped her chin with his hand, and kissed her firmly. She
broke the kiss and pulled away. "Don't," she said.

She didn't protest, however, as he slid one hand under her weakened legs and
another under her torso and lifted her out of the chair. He strode toward
the bedroom, his thoughts whirling, not knowing if it was the right thing to
do, but knowing that he had to do it, for both their sakes.

She began to protest a little as he set her down on the unmade bed. "Max...
we're making a mistake, you know we are."

He pushed her back on the bed and she stopped struggling. She leaned forward,
her stomach muscles trembling, and kissed him so hard that breathing was not
an option. He opened his mouth and let her explore with her tongue as her
hands began moving towards the button of his pants.

Max reached for her little hands and smoothed them away. She moaned in
frustration. "Sshhhh," he said, kissing her forehead. "We don't have to
go so fast, now. Nobody's going to barge in on us."

Liz didn't respond, watching as he pulled her skirt over her hips and down
her newly sensitized legs. The skin there had been numb for so long, and
now it ached for his touch. He granted her that, tracing his fingers over
her thighs, opening them gently. The muscles in her legs were still weak
from disuse. She had some difficulty moving them, still.

"I'm going to fix this for you, Liz," he whispered into her belly, his
fingers memorizing the way her soft skin felt beneath them. "I can't do
anything else, but I can make this right again. I *can* make you dance
again, Liz."

She watched, her eyes wide as he bent each of her legs at the knee. A
tingling sensation followed his hands as they moved from her ankles
toward her knees, repairing the scar tissue left from the crash. She
watched in awe as the ugly, purple scars vanished, replaced by creamy
smooth skin.

Max completed the job, and laid a kiss on each knee. She trembled. "I
feel like I should thank you."

"Don't," he whispered. "Just love me."

Author's Note: Quite honestly, I have no clue if this makes sense. Erg. Oh, and Anne...I've changed the ending. I'm going for the less angsty version. No death threats, ok people?

Oh, the next part is also might be the last part.

"We are feedback junkies. It's like crack, only harder to get." --EKM 6/11/01

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.

posted on 22-Sep-2001 4:50:50 PM by jezebel617
Just to remind everybody...I always intended this fic to be a two-parter, with the second part taking place in 1947. (I.e., Roswell crash. heheheheheheh.) *wink*

"We are feedback junkies. It's like crack, only harder to get." --EKM 6/11/01

When in danger or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout.

posted on 19-Oct-2001 5:10:47 AM by jezebel617
Just bumping this fic so that I can hopefully find it tomorrow and post part's hoping, anyhoo. *happy*

posted on 7-Nov-2001 7:29:33 PM by jezebel617
Part 17

Her lip trembled and she leaned forward, kissing him so forcefully his arms nearly gave out. "I love you," she whispered.

He kissed her forehead. "I've always loved you."

A tear spilled from under her closed eyelid. "No more tears," he said softly, and kissed it away. He tugged at the hem of her shirt, and she leaned forward to allow him to pull it away. Max kissed each of her breasts lightly, feeling the nipples crinkle under his touch. His head dipped forward onto her chest briefly, his breathing heavy.

"I never thought this would happen," he said.

Liz said nothing, her hands urging him to remove his own shirt. She tugged lightly on his belt, pulling him up to her level. "I only dreamed that it would."

Together they removed the rest of his clothing. He stretched fully over her
as she eased one leg over his back, urging him closer to her entrance. Then he kissed her again, this time purposefully conveying to her the flashes of their youth. How he'd fallen in love with her, without ever realizing it. And he realized, suddenly, looking at the memories in his own mind, that she had shown him her love too. They had both been too young, too naive, to realize what was going on in their own hearts and minds. "I wish I could have saved you your pain, Liz," he said, breaking the kiss.

She looked up at him, her deep brown eyes searching his face. "Don't you see, Max? You have."

He smiled faintly at that, his fingers briefly searching to see if she was ready, though the connection through the flashes had shown him how aroused she had become. Sure enough, she was, and without further hesitation, he thrust fully inside her. She moaned, her back arching. Suddenly he realized how tactile this really was for her -- this was some of the first sensation she'd had, at all, in months. He pulled back out slowly, gently. Her other leg wrapped itself around his waist, and he could feel her toes clenching against his back.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Better than all right," she said breathlessly. "You're inside me, and this time *it's real*."

He groaned and sank back into her, burying his face in her neck. As they began to move together, her hands found his hair and stroked through it, her whole body moving in time with his. She laid a kiss on his forehead,
her lips gentle in contrast to the jarring rocking of their bodies. Max sucked hard on her neck, knowing he'd leave a mark. She was finally his, and he wanted the world to know. She whimpered and her fingers trembled.

"Are you so close already?" he murmured, kissing lightly down her neck.

She nodded, so imperceptibly that if he hadn't been so close to her, so connected to her in body and soul, that he wouldn't have been able to tell. Suddenly she drew in a breath. Her mouth was so close to his ear that he could hear the tiny whistling sound. Her head flew back,
the top of her head buried in the pillow, and he felt her inner muscles start to contract.

He slowed his thrusts and Liz let out an incoherent sound. Max watched her, feeling almost absurdly pleased with himself as her hand moved with a jerking motion down his spine. He planted a kiss on the column of her throat. He could sense that she was holding herself back, and he leaned down and sucked lightly on her nipple, his tongue swirling around the areola. She let out a high-pitched groan, and her fingernails dug into
his back.

"Max...oh my God..." she said, barely audible.

Max was losing control fast now. Liz, finally back on Earth, wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. His thrusts grew erratic and finally he let go, losing himself inside of her.

Liz smiled as he came to rest on top of her, and pushed his bangs off his forehead lightly.

"What are you smiling at?" he whispered in her ear.

"I think we know who the screamer in *this* relationship is," she said with a grin.

Max glared at her, then laughed and rolled over, pulling her with him, unwilling to let her go.


The next morning, Max awoke with a start, feeling that something was wrong. He looked around and sniffed the air. There didn't seem to be anything. He was puzzled; what had awakened him? He could still feel it; just a general bad feeling that almost seemed to be floating in
the air.

He was tempted to get up and check the rest of the apartment, but looking down at the woman who was fast asleep on his chest, he knew he couldn't bring himself to disturb her.

With one hand, he stroked her silky soft hair, tangling his fingers in it. That was one thing that hadn't been damaged by her poor health these past few months, anyway. His fingers brushed her scalp and she stirred,
and sat up. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it's nothing," Max said. "Go back to sleep."

She frowned. "Too late now, Max. You woke me up. Now you've got to think of something to do to entertain me."

"Hmmm...I wonder what *that* might be?" he asked dryly.

Liz giggled and leaned down, planting a kiss on one of his nipples. "I'm sure we can think of something."


Max was making breakfast again. Liz smiled to herself as she stole a glance at him through the open door to her bedroom. She was walking better this morning, without leaning on furniture or on Max. At first she'd been worried she would need a cane temporarily. *Like Max*, she thought to herself. Though technically, Max kept that cane by choice -- or was it out of fear? Her eyebrows knitted at that thought.

She returned to the mirror, absorbed in putting on a little bit of makeup. She didn't even notice when Max snuck up behind her.

"Breakfast is ready," he said from behind her.

Liz yelped. "Do you really need to sneak up on me?"

"No," he shook his head. "But it's still fun." She reached toward him, smacking him playfully. He frowned a little, leaning forward.

"Look," Max said, pulling her hair away from her neck and wrapping an arm around her midsection.

Liz looked up and her mouth dropped open. "What is that?" she asked, a little fearfully, raising a hand to her neck.

"I gave you a hickey," he admitted.

"They don't normally glow, Max."

He looked sheepish. "I didn't know it would."

She probed the bruise gently. "It doesn't hurt."

Max leaned over and kissed it lightly, then covered it with his hand. When he moved away, it was gone. Liz smiled faintly and turned around to face him.

"Where do we go from here, Max Evans?"

"I don't know," he said, but he smiled.


Max was more than a little pleased with the way that Liz devoured the sugary oatmeal he'd made her for breakfast. He was almost surprised at his own urge to nurse her back to health. He'd certainly never thought of himself as, well, the matronly type.

There was a loud pounding. Liz jumped a little, her heart thudding in her chest. Max looked at her. "I'll get it," she said, putting her spoon down regretfully.

Briefly, her mind wandered over the possibilities of just who might be at her door. Who even knew she was here? It must be her next door neighbor again. Well, he'd certainly be surprised to see her up and walking about.

Max watched her go and got up to follow her closely, resting his hands on her hips as she unlocked and opened the door.

A tall, thin man with longish hair stood in the doorway. "Hello?" Liz said doubtfully. "Do you need something?"

The man looked past her. "Max. Thank God you're here. Grab your things. We need to go now. They know you're here."

"Michael?" Max asked in surprise.


The two men sat across from each other at Liz's kitchen table. Liz sat between them, her legs pulled up in front of her chest, her eyes darting back and forth.

Michael looked at her. "Is this her?"

Max knew he meant the girl that had gotten him into so much trouble with the men in Britain, and he scowled. "Listen, Michael. Quit beating around the bush and just tell me why you show up someplace you really
shouldn't know where I am, early in the morning, interrupt a perfectly good breakfast, and start yelling at me that someone's after me. Why would someone be after me?"

Michael glared at him. "I shouldn't even be here. I just thought it might be a nice gesture to try and save your ass. I guess I was wrong."

Max gritted his teeth. "How do you even know what I am?"

The taller man shrugged. "Does it matter? We need to get out of here, Evans, and fast. I don't know how long I lost them for."

Max glared at him in disbelief. "You mean they're following *you*, and you came here? Why the hell didn't you just leave me alone?"

"Because they're looking for you too. And they would have found you as soon as you went back to New Mexico." Michael was starting to look more and more frantic all the time, his foot tapping an irregular rhythm
on the kitchen tile. "Listen, can we just cut all this bullshit? I can explain later. Right now we need to leave."

"No!" Max shouted. He looked at Liz. "You can't just walk into my life and tell me that I have to run from something, and not even tell me what that something is! I don't even know you, Guerin! I don't know how you know who I am, or how you know that someone is supposedly after the both of us."

"I don't have time for this! For Christ's sake! I'm leaving, all right? You can come, or you can stay. And God only knows what'll happen to you if you stay. I thought it was nice to come get you, seeing as we're old-time buddies and all."

Max shook his head. "No. I won't go."

Michael rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Is it the girl? Bring her with you, let's just get out of here!"

"No," Liz said. "I can't leave. But Max...maybe he's right. Maybe you should go. What if someone saw you on the beach?"

Max turned to stare at her in disbelief. "Liz..."

"She's right," Michael interrupted. "Someone did see you on the beach, Evans. It was a German soldier. He saw me too, saw what I did. Then he was captured, and instead of telling Uncle Sam what the Jerries were
up to next, he told them all about us. And now they're after us. They want to find out what makes us what we are. And you know, I don't know how they would do that, and I really don't want to find out."

"How do you know all this?"

"My sergeant. The same one who told me about the invasion. He told me about this and told me to get the hell out before they found me. He knew it was me, too, I don't know how. I thought I hid it better than that,
but I guess not."

Max just shook his head. "I can't leave. Not now."

All three of them jumped as a loud pounding came at the door. "Open up, this is the FBI!" shouted a gruff baritone.

"Holy fucking shit!" Michael groaned. "Goddamn you, Max, now we're both fucked!"

Liz held a hand to her lips, shushing him. She gestured for both of them to follow her. She led them into the bathroom, climbed up onto the edge of the bathtub, and opened the window. "It leads to the fire escape,"
she said softly. "Go, now. I'll hold them."

Michael took her advice, squeezing his large body through the window and disappearing. Max, on the other hand, looked at her in shock. She looked
back at him. "Go!" she said.

"I can't go without you."

"Max, you have to! You have to! I can't go with you, I'll just slow you down. And I need to go tell those FBI agents that I haven't seen you since Britain. Go! Go follow him."

"Liz!" he groaned desperately. "I can't leave you, not after everything, not after all of this. I love you. If I go, you have to come with me!"

Choking back a sob, Liz grabbed him and held him close, leaning up to lay kisses on his face. "I love you too. So much it hurts. But you can't stay, and I can't go. Somehow, we'll have to meet again. And we will,
I know it. But now you have to go!"

Max stood firm, looking at her. "I can't," he said brokenly.

Her lower lip trembled as she held back tears. "Max, please. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you. I don't want them to take you away. I can' saw what happened when Alex died...I can't
take that again, Max. Please, go!"

"No," he moaned, knowing she was right.

"Ssshhh," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes and kissing him firmly on the mouth. To his surprise, the connection opened, and he saw how true her love for him really was, how it was so much a part of her that
it would kill her to take it away. Her fingers trembled on his arm as the pounding on the door began again.

"Miss Parker!" the voice called. "Open up this door! This is the federal government!"

"Go," Liz said firmly as she broke the kiss. "Follow Michael. And when this has all died down...come back to me. I'll be waiting."

His whole body shaking in pain and fear, he turned away, looking at the window. He looked back at her and the ache in his eyes almost killed her. "Go," she said, one last time.

"I'll come back for you," Max promised, and with that, he slipped out the window and was gone.

Liz sighed, the tears she'd been holding back finally slipping down her cheeks. She wiped them away hurriedly as she tightened the sash on her robe and grabbed her wheelchair on the way to the door. "I'm coming!" she called, not knowing what awaited her, but comforted in the knowledge that Max was safe.

She knew it was all she could ask for.

Author's Note:

OK. Evidently, no one really wants a sequel, as I've gotten 6 or so reviews for about 600 hits, so whatever. But I did forget to do my end of story thing, where I post the song that inspired the fic -- which ya, I know, I haven't done a lot, but that's only because I haven't finished very many fics! (innocent smile) *angel*

Enigma - Return to Innocence

That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence
Love - Devotion
Feeling - Emotion
Love - Devotion
Feeling - Emotion
Don't be afraid to be weak
Don't be too proud to be strong
Just look into your heart my friend
That will be the return to yourself
The return to innocence
If you want, then start to laugh
If you must, then start to cry
Be yourself don't hide
Just believe in destiny
Don't care what people say
Just follow your own way
Don't give up and use the chance
To return to innocence
That's not the beginning of the end
That's the return to yourself
The return to innocence
Don't care what people say
Follow just your own way Follow just your own way
Don't give up, don't give up
To return, to return to innocence.
If you want then laugh
If you must then cry
Be yourself don't hide
Just believe in destiny.

[ edited 1 time(s), last at 12-Nov-2001 9:53:13 PM ]