Through The Silvered Glass

Chapter 1: Behind the Green

Maria's POV

Maria smiled to herself as she listened to Liz give her "my grandma photographed an alien" spiel to the two tourists at one of the center tables. She couldn't count how many times she and the other waitresses were asked that question. Liz figured it one summer. Something like a 1.2 ratio per eight-hour shift. Lovable nerd. Granted, the lovable nerd raked in the tips.

Glancing over at the two guys arguing over at one of her window tables, she sighed. It would take more than a photo of a melted plastic baby doll to get a tip out of those two.

As she walked over to check on the two arguing men, the bell over the door chimed a two younger guys walked in. Maria had to bite back a grin a she saw who had walked in. From what she could make out, Max Evans had been in love with Liz for, oh, only about forever. And despite the fact that he dragged in his grumpy friend (Mark? Michael?) at least three times a week since he was old enough to drive, Liz remained oblivious. She watched as they made their way to a booth where Max would have a clear view of Liz. Too Cute. And when it came to cute, his friend (she was pretty sure it was Michael. Michael Guerin?) wasn't too bad looking either. Ignoring his clothes, of course, and his hair, and his attitude…..

Well, time to face the music. She finished walking over to the two men by the windows. As she walked up she caught part of their argument "supposed to pick the money up today" one man was saying in an angry undertone to the other.

"Can I get you any…?" Was all she managed to say before the other guy practically yelled -

"We're FINE"

"OOOkay" she said. They were really starting to make her nervous. Deciding to focus on more enjoyable things she made her way over to where Liz was behind the counter filling napkin holders. Sliding in next to Liz, he gave her best friend a cheeky grin.

"Someone's totally staring at you again, chica" she teased, giggling when Liz flushed.

"Nuh-huh" Liz denied, a grin breaking out over face,

"Should I tell Kyle he has some competition?" Maria offered, watching as Liz's eyes get wider and she shook her head negatively.

At that moment the argument between the two men at the window table escalated sharply in volume. Both men were standing up and leaning into each other, and it looked like any minute now one would start swinging. Shit. The two girls looked at each other with worried eyes. Liz's dad was out to pick up a part for the washer, and Jose, the cook today, was, to quote "a lover, not a fighter", which, from what Maria could tell, meant "total coward".

She met Liz's wide eyes. Liz was brave, if she needed to, she'd go over there, but Maria was a good three inches taller, and looked the older of the two. And it was her table, after all.

"Maria" Liz started.

"Nah, I got it. But go grab the phone, just… in case." Liz nodded. She put the napkin holder she was filling down, and started to walk down the counter to where the phone was at the far end.

Maria took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and turned towards the men's table.

Michael's POV

Little blonde must have a death wish, Michael thought to himself as he watched her start towards the two guys getting ready to have a fight in the middle of the restaurant. Growing up in the trailer park had taught Michael how to recognize trouble like that far enough away to avoid it. Idly, Michael tried to figure out just what the girl thought she was gonna be able to do. Of the two waitresses working, she was the taller, but he doubted she weighed a buck ten soaking wet. Why didn't she get the loser cooking behind the counter to deal with it? With his luck St. Max would feel like he needed to come to the rescue. But Max was oblivious to the unfolding drama as he continued to watch Liz from across the room. Following Max's eyes, he saw the brunette girl walking towards the phone.

"We gotta leave, man" he leaned towards Max.

Max looked at him, surprised. "What? Why?"

"Blondie told your lady love to call the cops on the two guys by the window. You know the rule- cops in, Michael out."

What are you…?" Max trailed off, his eyes going wide. Feeling his gut clench, Michael turned to look at the two men as the one facing the counter pulled out a gun and started to wave it around.

He heard the blonde cream out "LIZ!" but even as she did Michael heard the shot ring out as the blonde dropped to the ground.

Michael was half out of his seat before he even realized it. Making his way across the room, he saw the two men make a run for the door. Two tourists were standing between him and the girl on the floor. A few seconds later he reached her. Looking around he realized there wasn't any blood on the floor. Looking at her face, though, he could tell something was really wrong. She had gotten to her knees, and he could hear her gasp, a strangled half cry. With a sinking feeling, he looked up to see Max kneeling over a small form lying in a growing pool of blood.

"Max, what are you…"

He and the girl lunged for the couple at the same time. Michael was afraid he was already too late to stop Max, though, and his thoughts switched over to damage control. Catching the blond girl around her waist, he stopped her from going any closer. He didn't want her to see what his idiot friend was doing. He could feel her shaking.

"Call 911" he snapped.

Her eyes flew to his, and Michael caught a fleeting impression of frightened green before she nodded sharply then whirled and ran for the phone. He could hear her in the back ground, panic in her voice as she told the operation the situation. He leaned over Max, hissing "What are you doing?"

But Michael knew what he was doing, of course. Max had already ripped open Liz's turquoise waitress outfit. Blood had pooled on the girls stomach, dripping down her sides to puddle around her body. Max had started his healing from the inside out, so the bullet hole was still visible, thought the flow of blood had slowed. He stood quickly, turning to see two alien crazed tourists leaning in.

"Oh my god!" The women exclaimed.

"Hey, get back" he yelled with his best "I'm bad news voice". What the hell was Max doing? He was gonna expose all of them. It was Max who instated the rules in the first place. Rules like, don't blow a cover that has been working perfectly well for ten years by using your secret powers to heal your crush of a life-threatening gunshot wound in a crowded alien themed diner full of people. People who had come to Roswell JUST TO LOOK FOR ALIENS!

Even he had managed not to do something that crazy. And crazy was his specialty. Max was cool, logical, follow the rules and everything will be fine Max. Michael thought they had worked out the dynamics of their friendship a long time ago. Michael decided to do crazy things, and Max stopped him. He couldn't be the crazy best friend of a crazy person.

Mentally he walked through the steps Max would be taking-dissolve the bullet, stop the bleeding, and close the wound. HurryHurryHurry-The words were screaming through his brain.

Focus Mickey! He thought to himself, damage control. His eyes alighted on a bottle of ketchup on the counter. Frantically he grabbed it, just as he heard sirens in the distance.

Turning back to Max, he yelled "Keys, NOW!"

As Max handed them over, he shoved the bottle into Max's hand. He met Max's wide eyes before turning to run out the door.

Directly in front of him was Blondie, her green eyes wide in her pale face. Her face showed fear and confusion, and strangely enough, something like…resolution? It was such an unexpected combination that for a bare second, he stopped.

And then she looked right at him. Actually looked at him, a direct, wide, piecing stare he was not expecting.

Michael could count on one hand just how many people in this shit town had ever actually looked at him. People around Roswell thought he was just dumb, worthless, unwanted trailer trash. He wasn't dumb, though. He just didn't care about a world that had never cared about him. And he sure as hell didn't give a damn about Roswell, New Mexico. It wasn't like this place was his home.

Max and Isabelle were his only friends. But Isabelle was a girl, so when it came to just hanging out, Max was his best (ok, only) bet. And due to Max's obsession with Liz Parker, he ate a lot of meals at the Crashdown. Since staring at the same girl as Max would have been creepy, (not to mention pathetic) he had watched the other diners, as well as the other waitresses. So he had seen the lively blonde repeatedly at the diner. She usually worked the same shift as Liz. He had watched her take orders, laughing, chatting up the customers. He had seen her carrying trays loaded with food, dodging other waitresses and patrons. He had heard her loud, dramatic voice as she joked and teased the people around her. He had seen the way she moved at times, as if she was almost dancing as she worked to a song only she was hearing in her head. She was lively, melodramatic and mouthy. In other words, she was nothing special. A dime-a-dozen blonde with a pixie hair cut and a loud mouth. Standard-issue teenage girl.

So he was completely surprised by the look in her eyes. It was as if someone else was living inside her, hidden behind the green. Someone who saw as much as he did. And realizing he had never noticed that before scared the shit outta him. If he had failed to notice that, what else hadn't he noticed? Stuff like that was what got you a one way ticket to a Michael-sized tank of formaldehyde.

From behind him he heard Max reassuring Liz. Then he heard the sound of breaking glass.

If possible, Blondie's eyes got even wider as she heard Max instruct Liz to tell the others it was nothing but spilled ketchup. Their eyes remained locked though, as they stood, squared off, she determined to protect her friend, he, his.

Finally breaking eye contact, he called over his shoulder to Max.

"Now, Max". Pushing past Blondie he drug Max out of the diner, bodily throwing Max into the passenger seat before flinging himself into the driver's seat. They pealed out of the parking lot as the ambulance pulled in. He turned onto the highway, forcing himself to obey the speed limit, forcing himself not to act guilty, not to attract attention.

After all, Max had done enough of that today for all of them.

Maria. Blondie's name was Maria.

Maria's POV

Max's Voice "You broke a bottle when you fell, spilled ketchup on yourself. Don't say anything, please!"

Liz's wide eyed stare as she stood, clutching her dress closed.

Her seeming confusion as Maria had rushed up to her. When Maria had cried "Omigod, Liz! Liz, are you okay?"

And then Liz had started lying. Lying to Maria, to her father, to the police. And because Liz was her best friend, Maria had stood there, going along with it. Even as she watched Liz re-tie her apron to cover the bullet hole in her uniform.

Maria groaned out loud. It was no use. She lay on her back in her darkened room, a few aromatherapy candles lit. The scenes from the diner just kept cycling through her brain like a skipping DVD.

Think, Deluca! She ordered herself to calm down. Now…what would Liz do?

Liz would…, would what? Crap. Liz would call Maria.

She forced herself to breathe in and out, calming herself down. She desperately wanted to call Alex, but it was three in the morning. Besides, she had to put her thoughts through the "Maria Filter" as Alex jokingly called it, or she wouldn't make any sense.

Ok. She closed her eyes, and once again allowed her mental video to play through that afternoon in her mind.

She had been walking towards the arguing men. She had reacted to the gun almost before she even knew what it was. She had turned to scream at Liz, to warn Liz, even as she dropped to the ground. The shot was so loud, it was the loudest thing Maria had ever heard, perhaps would ever hear.

Dimly she was aware of a shadow of someone standing over her, not the gunmen; they had run out of the diner even as the echo of the gunshot faded.

Without even looking up she had turned her body, angling her head to search out Liz, to reassure herself that Liz was also ok. But she had known, deep down, even before she saw the blood, she had felt it, something was wrong, something was bad, something was broken. Liz. Liz was broken and time for Maria had become excruciatingly slow. And the gunshot was still echoing in her head, or was it her heartbeat? Maria couldn't tell and the adrenaline coursing through her body had no effect on the slow motion horror movie her life had just become. She had lunged towards Liz, only to be caught in a pair of strong arms-

And suddenly time had returned to normal, like a rubber band snapping into place, and it was too much, too fast. And Liz was still lying there, and this boy, this boy was stopping her from going to Liz. And another boy was leaning over Liz, and her uniform was open, maybe he was trying to stop the bleeding?

"Call 911" The boy holding her had snapped, his voice sounding angry. Why was his voice angry? It was her best friend lying there, bleeding to death. But she had already started to follow the command in his voice, taking only the briefest glance upwards before running to the counter where her cell phone sat tucked under the hutch. She had called 911, practically screaming the address into the phone, but it was already too late, she knew it, in her gut she knew it and before she had even finished speaking to the operator she had dropped her cell phone and started back to Liz.

And then the angry boy was in front of her, blocking her view of Liz, and he didn't understand, why he wouldn't MOVE, didn't he understand that LIZ WAS DYING, Maria knew it, could feel it in her bones, because nothing short of Liz dying could make her feel the way she did now, deep down inside, like she was begging for god to take it back, to take the moment back, to make it better, to do it another way, any other way. But he wouldn't. She knew better. She had learned that long ago.

And so nothing mattered but getting to Liz, because Maria knew what it was to be alone when you really, really needed someone who loved you to be there. But the boy was still in her way and so she finally looked at him, really looked at him.

Michael Guerin was looking back at her, and he WAS furious, but that wasn't what stopped her.

Michael Guerin was scared. He was so scared. She didn't know of what. But she knew the look. He was the only person she had ever seen who looked as scared as she felt inside, all the time. He was furious and frightened and seemed like he had decided it was her fault.

But her best friend was hurt, and she was just as angry, just as scared. And she wasn't backing down either.

And then the sound of breaking glass. She had listened in disbelief as Max had begged Liz to trust him, to explain to everyone that it was just spilled ketchup. He had told her she was alright now. His voice had sounded shaky, but not as shaky as Liz's voice when she had started to reply. Then the two boys had run past Maria, nearly knocking her off her feet.

And she was staring at Liz, and Liz was staring back at her, wide eyed. And Maria was running to her, crying out, and asking if she was okay. She could smell the strong tomato scent of ketchup, not quite covering up the other scent, the salty, tacky, metallic scent of blood drying.

And then the paramedics were there, and Liz was lying to them, telling them she was fine, that she had broken the bottle when the gun went off. But was it lying? Because Liz was fine, talking, standing, bright eyed.

And then the Native American deputy was asking her to describe the gun men, and Maria rambled off the first thing that came to mind, likening them to the Beavis and Butthead cartoon she had been watching last night. And it was true; when the men had first come in she had noted the resemblance. She had even made a joke about it to Liz. Then Liz's father had come in, running to Liz, asking Liz if she were alright.

Maria had watched, feeling that small pang she always felt when he saw Liz and her father. Her father wouldn't have had a clue if SHE had been shot down at work. And Liz had started in again, her fairytale story of broken ketchup bottles, and Maria was so confused. She knew what she saw ten minutes ago. And she knew what she saw now. And she knew it wasn't possible.

But Maria had agreed with Liz's story, nodding along at all the right places. When the alien obsessed tourists had started sticking their noses into things, telling the sheriff Liz had known the two boys at the far booth, Liz had lied again. And then Liz had looked to Maria to back her up. And because it was Liz, who Maria loved more than anything, Liz, who had just died, who was begging her with her eyes to help her, she did. Because it was Liz.

"But she lied." She spoke aloud to the ceiling of her room.

And again in her mind Maria saw Liz retying her apron over the bullet hole in her uniform.