Please note: I do not own any of these characters or stories. This is a fan piece written solely for fan enjoyment and not for monetary purposes.

This is a continuation of the story told in the episode A Roswell Christmas Carol, which focuses on the whumpy goodness of the Max hospital scene. I found this scene to be entirely too short lived, so here are the juicy details as I imagine them.

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Pounding on the door. The sound came as if from miles away, barely registering beneath the sound of his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Max felt like shit. Healing one person usually took a lot out of him, but healing so many in rapid succession…it was no wonder he was fading. His muscles ached, his limbs felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, and his head…the throbbing seemed in time with the wavering dark static edging it's way across his vision. The pounding again, and a voice "Max!" That must be Michael. We've been caught. Need to go. But how could he go? He had healed three children, but more still remained sick, slowly dying as cancer ravaged their bodies…and he could fix them. why was I given this power if I can't save them? The pounding again, sounding frantic. No, he wasn't leaving just yet. Blinking exhaustion from his eyes, Max forced himself up on feeble legs, practically throwing himself at the next bed. Somehow, his hands found the next child, sleeping peacefully. Find the pain, draw it out. Pain in his chest, head spinning. Not…finished…yet He stumbled to the next bed, repeating the process and ignoring his screaming head. More…I can do more...

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Michael was panicking, all semblance of his cool, 'i'm a nurse and i definitely belong here' act fading as a nurse approached with two security guards. Ready or not, Max, we're out of time! He slipped inside the room, palming over the lock on the door and covering the small window with a child's drawing that was hanging nearby. He turned just in time to see Max stumble away from a bed. Unable to keep his feet, Max grabbed for a nearby curtain, but the weak fabric was not enough to stop his fall. All strength seemed to leave him at once as he collapsed in a heap on the linoleum.

"Max, shit!" Michael was by his side in a heartbeat, which was the same amount of time it took for the door to begin shuddering under the fist of the security guards. Shit shit shit. "Max…" Hands gently tapped Max's cheek, attempting to rouse him, but the man's head just rolled limply. He was completely out. Michael took deep breaths to steady his racing heart. This was an issue. "If there is a God, please help us." Desperate words from a non-believer, but Michael was willing to risk being wrong about God if it would help him get out of this mess.

The door rocked on it's hinges, as if someone was slamming their whole body against it, and the lock seemed seconds from failing. Michael's eyes darted from the rapidly weakening door to the window on the far side of the room. Thanks for nothing, heavenly father. No God was coming to help, no one was going to get them out of this; he would have to do it himself. Drawing on energy reserves he hadn't known he had possessed, Michael lifted his friend in his arms. Max's dead weight felt lighter than he had expected…and then he was on the roof, and seconds later, he was sprinting full-speed across the parking lot, Max's head thudding against his shoulder with each step he took. By the time Michael had reached the car, his arms and legs were aching under the strain of Max's weight. It seemed his hidden power was fading. He glanced furtively around the parking lot, hoping against hope that no one had seen his mad escape with an unconscious man in tow. All seemed quiet, but Michael was not about to wait around for anyone to notice him. It's ok, we'll be out of here in no time.

Michael had never maneuvered a limp body into a car before, but he quickly found it to be quite a difficult process. Somehow he managed to get the car door open, and he eased Max gently into the passengers seat, taking a moment to place slack limbs in what he hoped was at least a semi-comfortable position. Max didn't stir once throughout this awkward process, not even when Michael accidentally hit Max's head against the door frame. Sorry buddy…try not being so…floppy next time. Part of him was relieved that Max wouldn't be able to hold that over his head later, but mostly he was freaked out, because he had never seen Max so still and helpless before. He looked like he was dead…just to be sure, Michael felt for a pulse in Max's neck, and shuddered a sigh of relief when he found one. It was strong and steady, but Max's face was pale and shining with sweat. Max…you really burned yourself out this time.

He closed the passenger door and crossed to the drivers side. His hands shook as he turned the key in the ignition. Taking a deep breath, Michael tried to calm himself. Yeah, they had snuck into a medical facility, and yeah, his best friend was currently dead-to-the-world unconscious after using more of his power than any of them had ever used before…but they would be okay…they would figure this all out. Isabel will know what to do…she'll fix this...if she doesn't kill me first... Swallowing the lump in his throat, Michael backed out of the parking lot and began the long drive home.

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Michael probably should have been paying more attention to the world outside his windshield during the drive home. Luckily for everyone it was well past midnight, which in this small town meant he was one of only a handful of people on the highway. His attention was split between watching the road and glancing worriedly at his friend. Max was slumped in his seat, head resting against the window. His slow breaths fogging the glass were the only sign that he still lived. It had been 15 minutes since they left the hospital. Shouldn't he be waking up by now? Usually Michael was the first to tell Max to shut up, but now he would give anything to hear that relentless, condescending voice berating him. Every second of silence increased his anxiety tenfold, and he thought he would explode before he got off the highway.

It was ten more minutes of torturous silence before Max began to stir. Michael had just turned off at their exit and was driving down a dark, winding backroad when he heard the low barely audible moan from his friend. He practically slammed on the breaks, stopping the middle of the road and causing Max to moan again at the jarring motion. Michael opened his door, running around to the passenger side to get a closer look at his friend. Max's head fell to the side as Michael opened the card door; he would have fallen out of the car completely if he hadn't been buckled in. He might have been waking up, but he certainly didn't seem very with it. Michael lifted his friend's head in his hands, getting a closer look at his face. Max's eyes were still closed, though his brows were creased in what looked like a grimace of pain. "Max…hey buddy…you there?" Tapping Max's cheek, Michael tried to rouse his friend. "Come on, Max, you've slept long enough…I need you to wake up and...and yell at me or something!" There was an edge of desperation in Michael's voice that he would later deny.

It seemed like ages before brown irises appeared behind fluttering lashes. Max was having a hard time focusing, let alone keeping his eyes open. "There you are, hey…stay with me Max, come on. Just let me know that you're okay!" Micheal squeezed his shoulder lightly, hoping the pressure would anchor his friend. "mmm k..." was the heavily slurred response he got. It seemed like Max was trying to hold his head up, trying to move his arms, but apart from twitching his fingers, and blinking lazily, he was failing to do so. This was not good. Max might be awake, but he was certainly not fully coherent, nor was he fully in control of his body. "Jeeeeezus Max, You're freaking me out here dude…". Brown irises peeked out behind thick lashes, and this time they seemed slightly more focused as they searched for, and then found Michael's face. "mmmsorry…dude." Was the labored, but still snarky response. Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Well if you can make fun of my speech you can't be that bad off". Michael helped Max lean back so he wasn't slumped to one side, setting his head back against the car seat. Then he crossed back over to the drivers seat, getting in and closing the door. "What…what happened?" Max seemed to be more coherent, eyes tiredly roaming around his surroundings. "Well, you healed like a million children, bud, COMPLETELY ignoring my warning about not going overboard, by the way" Michael started driving again. "And I had to carry your sorry ass out a freakin' window before the nurse from hell and her security guard sidekicks put us both in jail." Max seemed to be taking this all in, because he didn't say anything for a few minutes. Michael had to keep looking over to be sure he hadn't lapsed back into unconsciousness. He seemed to be hanging on, but just barely. He kept blinking those long blinks, and his eyes once more seemed focused on something far off. "Thanks, Michael." Was the weak response he finally gave. "Yeah, man, any time…you know I wouldn't just leave you there to be locked up and experimented on like some lab rat! But Max, you really scared me, and you look like crap, how are you feeling?" "Like…crap" Was the feeble response Michael received. "Well yeah, no shit, but what's wrong?" There was a long pause. "Hurts…everything…" Max raised a shaking hand to his brow. "My head…m'dizzy…tired." The hand fell heavily to his side once more, as if he hadn't the strength to hold it up any more. "Shit, you really did a number on yourself in there. You can't do that, Max! One of these days, you're gonna push yourself too far, and then even Super Michael won't be able to save you!" Micheal chuckled, but there was no response to this witty remark from the passengers seat. Michael glanced over to find Max's eye closed, head fallen forward. He was out once more. "Shit." Michael drove faster.

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Ten minutes after Max had lost consciousness again, their old ratty Jeep pulled up in front of Michael's apartment. Isabel came storming out of the house as he turned the car off. "Michael! Where the hell have you…oh my god, Max!" She ran over to stand beside Michael, who was busy unbuckling Max and gathering the limp form into his arms. "Michael, what the hell happened!?" Max didn't stir as he was lifted from the seat, his head lolling uselessly. "We…he…he healed all these children, Iz, he used too much power." Isabel seemed to have trouble wrapping her head around this. "Wait, you LET him do this? You know how upset he's been lately…how could you-" "Isabel!" Michael interrupted. "You can lecture me later, right now, can you help me get your brother inside before we wake the neighbors!?" Isabel's expression darkened, but she nodded. Together, Isabel and Michael got Max inside the apartment. Michael lay him on the couch as Isabel ran to grab blankets off the bed. She returned as Michael was struggling to remove Max's shirt. With her help, they lifted Max and got his shirt off. Isabel supported him from behind, leaning his weight against her chest. She felt his forehead as it lay back against her shoulder. "He's warm, Michael, and clammy…what the hell is wrong with him?" Michael shook his head, balling up the sweat-soaked shirt and throwing it into the corner of the room. "He woke up for a bit in the car...seemed to be kinda out of it, but he was talking, making sense for a while…and then he just konked out again." Isabel paled, holding on to her brother. "Did he mention what was wrong? What...what if he's dying Michael?!"Michael shook his head. "He said that everything hurt, and that he was dizzy and tired. I don't know, Iz, but it sounds kinda like that time you spent too much time infiltrating dreams." "I was still conscious by the end of that, Michael." Isabel replied, clearly irritated. "I know, I know." Michael said quickly. "But you were dizzy and achey, and you felt better after a good night's rest, right? That's all he needs, Iz, a good nights rest and Max will be back to his normal, serious, buzz-kill self." Isabel sighed, gently setting Max down on the couch again, taking a moment to stroke his damp hair out of his eyes. "I hope you're right."

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Isabel and Michael settled Max on the couch. After trying desperately to rouse her brother once more, and failing, Isabel agreed to let him rest. So began a restless night of camping out of the floor next to the couch. Despite Michael's protests, Isabel had insisted on them both keeping watch over Max, to ensure that her brother was just sleeping, and still breathing. The room was still and quiet, the silence broken only by occasional snores from Michael, who was propped awkwardly against the edge of the couch, head slung back and mouth wide open as he slept. Isabel had woken from fitful sleep an hour back, and had been unable to fall back asleep.

Isabel was no stranger to the dead of night. A mind like hers, always working, always worrying, was prone to running late into the night. She found the silence comforting; the dull light from the streetlamp was an old friend from countless sleepless nights. It was only in times like these, when the world was still, that she could truly think and process all that had happened that day. Tonight, her thoughts were preoccupied by her brother. Max would often join her on late nights like this, appearing outside her door just at the right time, as if he knew just when she needed company. Sometime they would talk; Max knew how to listen when she needed to get something off her chest. Other times they would just sit in silence together, lost in their own thoughts, drawing comfort from each others presence. Some nights, Max would appear just as Isabel was waking from fitful dreams; Call it sibling intuition, he always knew when she was having a nightmare. On those nights, he would lie on the bed next to her, stroking her shoulder until she fell back asleep. She never had to say a word, and he would never ask her to explain her dreams, he would just be there to offer her comfort and keep her safe. Her brother was her closest companion, the only one who truly knew what she was going through.

Tears of frustration and anxiety fell from her eyes as she thought about what she would do without him. Without her curmudgeon of a brother, she might just truly be alone. No, I will not lose him tonight. Sighing and shaking her head to clear negative thoughts away, she turned to check on Max again. The soft light from the streetlamp fell on Max's face as he slept, illuminating the features of his face and the slow rise and fall of his chest. Isabel lay her head upon his chest, hearing his heart beating steadily and drawing comfort from the sound.

It was at this moment that she heard Max's breath hitch in his chest for a moment. She was instantly up and leaning over to get a good look at his face. His brow creased slightly, and Isabel felt her heart flip in her chest. She reached out to take his head in her hands. "Max…" she whispered so as not to wake Michael, just in case this was a false alarm. Max's lashes fluttered. "That's it Max, come back to me." She gently urged. Those wonderfully familiar eyes opened at last, and after a moment of glassy blankness, they found her face. He smiled feebly. "Iz…hey." Isabel nearly broke down right there, all the pent up stress and fear of losing her brother finally washing over her. "Thank God, Max, I've been so worried!" Closing her eyes, she felt tears on her cheeks before she could stop them, and then, fingers gently touching her face. "I'm okay, Iz, please don't cry" She opened her eyes again, shaking away tears. This wasn't the time to get sentimental, she had to be sure that her brother was really okay. She looked into Max's eyes. "How do you feel?" Max sat up with only slight difficulty, but it looked like the effort had really tired him. Pulling his legs to his chest, he hugged them close. "I feel alright…I'm kinda sore, I guess, tired, I…I don't remember getting here…" He looked around, seemingly to realize where he was for the first time. "I remember Michael, the hospital…I think I was in the Jeep…" He rubbed his head, scrunching up his eyes as if trying to remember more. Then his eyes opened wide. "The children" He gasped. "…they were dying...I couldn't save them all, Iz, I-" "Max, stop this." Isabel cut him off, moving closer and taking his hands in hers. "You did something incredibly brave, not to mention incredibly stupid." Max smiled at her gentle admonishment. "You saved lives tonight, Max, and for all we know, you almost died doing it! Cut yourself a little slack here." Max smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks, sis."

A particularly loud snore cut through the sweet moment between siblings. Max looked over at Michael for the first time since waking. "He got me out." He said, nodding at Michael. "The last thing I remember is him locking the door to the hospital room, and then…the Jeep…" He shook his head again, struggling to remember just what had happened. "I don't know how he did it, but he got me out of there." Isabel nodded. "He carried you out a window, across the roof, to the car, and drove you here." She smiled wryly "It was all apparently very heroic, you might never hear the end of it." Max chuckled softly. "Well, I think he's earned a few bragging rights. I really owe him for this." Isabel huffed, looking exasperated. "Iz, don't be to hard on him. This was my idea. I wouldn't let him say no." "Yeah, I suppose you wouldn't." She sighed. "But shit, Max, don't ever scare me like that again…I…I don't know what I would do if I lost you." Max scooted closer to her, resting his head against her shoulder as they both leaned back on the couch. "You don't have to worry about that, Iz, not tonight at least". Silence fell between them as they sat there, listening to Michael's absurd snoring. Isabel smiled to herself. For a moment, things were just as they should be; two siblings, together with their thoughts, soaking in the peace of the night. Before too long, she felt her brother's hand relax from where it was clasped around hers. He had fallen asleep, but this time, that fact didn't send Isabel into a panic; she knew, she could feel that this sleep was a healing one, and that when he awoke in the morning, Max would be back to his normal self once more.

She stroked his face gently, smiling to herself as she thought of all the times Max has done this for her, when she was upset from a bad dream. Now it was her turn to comfort her brother, and she was grateful for the chance to do so. She closed her eyes, feeling the exhaustion of worry wash off of her, leaving only contentment and peace in its wake.

When the light of morning finally came, Michael awoke to find two siblings asleep in each others arms. He knew with a sigh of relief, that all would be well once more.

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Thanks for reading! Leave a review and let me know what you think about my first ever fic. Your thoughts and comments are appreciated!