Disclaimer – I own zip, nada nothing. Though I wish I owned Michael…..but that's a whole different story.
Author's notes – Sorry this chapter took so long! Major writers block -- again! --. I don't do this often so I have trouble turning thoughts into words. Anyway, on to this chapter! Sorry if it isn't that good but I have loads of assignments and exams this week and next so sorry again! R&R please…comments and CC always appreciated!
Ignorance Is Innocent
Chapter Two: Instinct
He had semi-worked out his plan in his head during his journey back into Roswell. He didn't realise how tired he really was until he stopped to catch his breath just outside the outskirts of Roswell. He could feel his lungs burning from the strain and hear his own haggard breathing blaring in his ears. Absolutely exhausted by the tortures walk, he had intended to go straight back "home" but decided against it since Hank was probably out somewhere getting pissed out of his mind, depleting the limited amount of brain cells he had remaining in the process. He sure as hell didn't want to be there when Hank came stumbling back into the sorry excuse for the home, so he decided to head over to Max's and crash.
He walked slowly, still feeling the effects from his long walk back. He tuned out his surroundings since he knew the way route by heart, having walked the familiar streets all too often. He let his mind wonder back to his plan. He decided to give her space after what he said, knowing full well that Maria wouldn't come anywhere near him for awhile anyway. Give her space for how long though? That part he hadn't worked out yet, which was part of the reason he was headed for Max's. He needed help to figure out how to actually put the plan into action.
Michael's head snapped up when he heard a low growling coming from one of the houses. I don't remember his neighbours having any dogs…wait a minute… He took a moment to inspect his surroundings. Where am I? He spun around on his heel, looking for a street sign to point out where he was. Not being able to spot one, he took a look along the line of houses and stopped when his eyes rested on a familiar red Jetta.
"Maria," he breathed. His breath caught in his throat and before he could object, his feet took on a life of its own, walking him all the way to her window. He could see her, bundled up under her sheets, chest rising and falling unevenly. She's asleep. He thought, pressing his palm up against the cool surface of her window. He then noticed it was slightly open. She must have forgotten to lock it. Count on Maria to leave her damn window open for anyone to invade her room. He thought and started to slide it open but stopped when he realised the stupidity of the act. After sliding it close, he shoved his hands deep in his pockets to prevent acting out his stupid impulse again. He took one last glace at her and begun to walk away.
Straight to Max's Michael. Don't screw this up even more by letting her find you here. He coached himself. But then, he heard it. A sound so soft, so sad that he could hardly believe it came from Maria. He refused to believe it. She was always bouncy, bubbly and talking everyone's ears of with such excitement in every word. Spinning on his heels, he walked briskly back to her window and pressed his ear against it. Sure enough, there she was tossing and turning in her sleep, whimpering, her face contoured in fear. Her whimpers turned quickly into sobs, which turned into high pitched shrieks. Now tossing and turning in her sleep, Maria looked and sounded the farthest thing from peaceful. SHIT! Michael, scared out of his mind and worried sick about his angel, he acted according to his first instinct…