Chapter Three: Rude Awakening
The telephone refused to quit ringing.
He'd been successful in ignoring it, clinging to unconsciousness through the first disturbing set of tones, but the damned thing persevered and tormented him by ringing again. And again. Whoever was calling this early in the morning deserved to die.
Clutching stubbornly at the last vestiges of sleep, he yanked the receiver off the cradle without opening his eyes and growled angrily into the tiny speaker. "What?"
He was met by silence on the other end and, just as he was about to throw the handset down in disgust, Max's voice drifted tremulously over the line, "M-Michael?"
"Obviously," he snarled, dangerously unhappy with his brother for interrupting his only day to sleep in. "What do you want, Maxwell?"
"What are you doing answering Liz's phone at six thirty in the morning?" Max snarled back at him, and Michael froze.
Liz's phone?
He peaked his eyes open and last night's events rolled over him in a wave. Liz had been attacked. He was on the Parker's couch. But all Max knew was that he hadn't come home last night and he was answering Liz's phone. "Oh, shit," he muttered as he tried to raise a hand to rub his eyes, only to find his arm trapped by the sleepy warmth of the young woman in question. He looked down and drank in the unimaginable sight of Liz Parker curled against him. She lay sprawled across his body like a blanket, the damp heat of her breath tickling his neck from where her face was tucked into his shoulder as she dozed.
"Fuck me," he whispered quietly to himself as Max began to rant in his ear.
"Where's Liz? Is she with you? Why didn't you come home? Maria saw your bike knocked on its side when she was opening the Crashdown this morning and got worried so she called me. What the hell are you doing there?! What-"
"You gonna stop to breathe at some point there, Maxwell?" he drawled sarcastically into the phone, annoyed at being interrogated before he was even fully awake.
"We were worried about you," his brother stated stiffly. "You'd never abandon your bike and no one's seen you since yesterday after school. What the hell were we supposed to think?!"
He grimaced, Max's guilt trip quickly succeeding in making him feel like an asshole. "I'm fine, okay? Look-"
"Yeah," Max sneered through the line. "You're fine. Great. Thanks for the heads up. You in bed with my girlfriend too? Is that why you didn't come home, Michael?"
"You and Liz aren't together anymore," the irritated young man spat out without thinking.
"So you're just gonna jump right in and go after her? How could you?!! You know what she means to me, what she's always meant to me! How can you-"
Michael didn't have a chance to react before Liz tore the phone away from his ear and out of his grasp. Through the link, the sharp bite of her frustration with the man on the other side of the phone made him very happy not to be Max Evans.
"Max, stop," she growled firmly into the receiver. "You're being ridiculous. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not having sex with Michael." Max tried to say something angry in response, but she cut him off abruptly. "Look, just meet us at the Crashdown in 10 minutes and we'll explain everything. Goodbye."
She slammed the phone down and deliberately reburied her uninjured cheek against Michael's shoulder. She could feel his entertainment at her words reverberating through the bond as his hand subconsciously rubbed her back to sooth her. Everything seemed to come in so much clearer when they were this close.
"What?" she snarled mentally, puzzled by what about their current situation was striking him as so damn funny.
Michael replied in kind, his amusement ringing clearly in her head, "Notice you didn't say you weren't sleeping with me."
She groaned and leveled herself off him. Resisting the urge to hit him with a sofa cushion, she stood and stretched.
"What?" he said with a smirk as he sat up. "It's an important distinction."
"Shut up, Michael," Liz rolled her eyes at him as she refolded the throw they'd used for a blanket and laid it over the back of the couch. "You always wind him up. Like he wasn't already yelling enough, I can just imagine how he'd take THAT. Now, give me two minutes to get dressed so we can head downstairs before he calls Maria and the gale force winds of Hurricane Deluca start banging down the door."
Her sleepy friend grinned unrepentantly up at her as she moved to circle the couch. Suddenly, the smile dropped from his face and he jumped to catch her arm, forcing her to turn back towards him. She looked at him in confusion as he raised her chin and frowned down at her.
"Michael?" she asked uncertainly as he examined her in silence.
"We should've put some ice on that," he finally said as he gently tilted her jaw to study the dark bruising that covered half her face. He scowled at the thought of the dozens of pictures the police had taken to document the damage, effectively preventing him from healing it for her without raising suspicion.
She covered his hand with hers in understanding. Michael never could stand to see his friends hurt. "S'okay," she joked with a smile. "I'm battered, not broken." She squeezed his fingers reassuringly before letting go. "I'll take some Advil before we go down. Though," she said with a yawn, "I seriously could have used some more sleep before having to face the firing squad."
He nodded in agreement and released his loose grip on her wrist. "I'll make us some coffee," he offered as he nudged her back towards her room for fresh clothes. She beamed at him gratefully as she retreated. He watched her slight form disappear down the hallway, noting the finger shaped bruises on her arms. Gritting his teeth, he imagined the myriad forms of punishment he'd like to inflict upon her attacker and growled low in his throat, "Bastard better hope they lock him up tight; legal system fails on this one and he's mine."
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Coffee in hand, Liz carefully navigated the stairs to the Crashdown with Michael trailing behind. Through the pickup window she could see Max leaning over the counter to speak with Maria, gesticulating wildly. She sighed unhappily at the pinched expression on her best friend's face, visible even in profile. Feeling her discomfiture, Michael placed a reassuring hand at the small of her back. As he reached over her head to push the door to the dining area open, she smiled up at him gratefully, thankful for his support.
Abruptly, the pair at the counter stopped talking and simultaneously swung their heads in their direction. "Oh my god!" Maria exclaimed as she scrambled toward her friend. Her hand stretched towards the dark haired girl's battered cheek only to pause an inch away, hovering indecisively before settling safely on the side of her head. "Liz, what happened to you?!" The blonde turned fierce eyes to the smaller girl's hovering shadow. "What the hell did you do to her, Spaceboy?!"
Michael scowled angrily at her accusation. "Right Maria," he drawled condescendingly as he rolled his eyes, "because Liz'd be cool with me hangin' around if I was the one that banged her up."
Shaking off her concerned friend's hand, Liz stationed herself at the gruff boy's side protectively. "Michael didn't hurt me," she said decisively, placing herself firmly between the arguing pair before Maria could fire back. "In fact-" she began, but Max cut her off.
"Then who did?" he demanded. Turning to Michael, he commanded furiously, "Tell me that you took care of who ever did this."
"He's handled," the taller teen confirmed simply.
"What Michael means," Liz jabbed his ribs promptingly when it became obvious he had no intention of elaborating, "is that the police have him in custody."
Max and Maria began to talk over each other in their haste to get details, but Liz waved them to silence as she took a seat at the counter. Taking a long sip of her coffee to buy herself time, she shot Michael a mental wave of gratitude when he plopped down in the seat between her and Max, offering her some much appreciated distance. Taking a deep breath, she set down her coffee and explained the previous night's events as quickly and succinctly as possible.
"Jose had to leave early last night, so I was closing up by myself. There was only one customer left and once I was alone he attacked me. Michael was coming by to get his check and pulled him off me. We called the police and they took him away. I was still shaken up afterwards and since my folks weren't supposed to be home until tonight, Michael offered to stay so I wouldn't have to be alone."
Michael watched her intently as she explained, more concerned with the effect replaying the story, even in such a truncated form, might have on her than their companions' reactions. Her dry recitation of the facts did nothing to portray the emotional impact of what she'd endured, and he knew without even looking that there was no way the pair to his right had any real appreciation of what she'd gone through. His hunch was born out by the absurd nature of Max's next question.
"So that's why Michael was in your bed this morning?" the dark haired young man demanded eagerly.
Liz rolled her eyes at him before replying, "Not that it's any of your business, but Michael wasn't in my bed. We were watching TV in the living room to wind down and we fell asleep on the couch." Taking a deep breath to curb her frustration with Max, she turned her attention to Maria. "I'm so sorry, Ria. I should have remembered you were opening this morning," she said as she shook her head with a rueful smile. "No wonder you panicked; we all know how protective Michael is of that bike! God forbid it ever gets so much as a scratch," she teased, tossing a smile Michael's way over the rim of her coffee cup.
"Exactly!" Maria chimed in with a grin when she saw Michael's glare at Liz for her verbal poking, "He won't let anyone breathe on the damn thing and I come in this morning to find it lying on its side in the alley!" Throwing her hands up in the air in fake exasperation, she exclaimed, "Obviously the world was about to end!"
"Very true," Liz intoned sagely. "It is one of the first signs of the apocalypse."
The two girls' eyes met before glancing back at Michael. They only lasted a couple seconds before breaking into laughter at the disgruntled look on his face. Michael tried to frown at them, but their happy smiles were too much to resist, especially when he remembered the ashen expression Liz had worn as he'd pulled that man off of her. The contrast was startling and he found himself grinning back at her unrepentantly.
Max watched their easy camaraderie with an oddly queasy feeling. There was something about the way Michael and Liz grinned at one another that sent alarm bells pealing throughout his brain. He took some consolation in the fact that Michael was smiling at Maria too, but he couldn't help notice that his pseudo-brother's eyes lacked the warmth they contained when pointed toward the darker haired girl.
"Ha, ha," Michael groused finally with a smirk as he got up and refilled his and Liz's coffee cups. "Very funny. You two done yet?" He asked as he watched the girls' giggles start to taper off. This set them off again, and the pair clung to each other helplessly as they laughed. He and Max shared a small grin and shook their heads at pair's silliness.
The sound of the employee entrance opening dragged Michael's attention away the trio at the counter, and he turned to see Jose coming in from the back to start up the grill.
"About time," he said as he watched the other man slip on his work apron. "Weren't you s'posed to be here ten minutes ago?"
Jose looked at him sourly and muttered something derogatory in Spanish as he fired up the grill. "You that worried about 'bout me bein' late, you coulda started the grill up for me."
"S'my day off. We haven't had any customers yet," Michael shrugged as he watched the morning preparations. Approaching the pick up window, he set his mug down on the formica and stood there, waiting, until Jose looked up at him.
The angry expression on his face was one his fellow cook had never seen before. At least, not to that extent. "What?" Jose snapped, irritated by the way the Michael had been on his case since he walked in the door.
"New rule," Michael growled as he leaned menacingly into the window. Behind him, the other teens went silent at the seriousness of his tone. "From now on, nobody closes alone. You gotta leave, you call someone to cover for you or you don't go anywhere."
Jose slammed down his spatula, "Mr. Parker wants to make that policy, fine. But last I heard, you weren't a manager." Glaring angrily, he demanded, "Why're you being such a pissy bitch today?"
Liz felt the white hot burn of his rage and was out of her chair like a shot, practically materializing at Michael's side before he could even open his mouth to tear into the other man. "Michael, stop," she begged, tugging futilely on his arm in an attempt to turn him towards her. "I told him to go last night, it's not his fault. There's no way he could have known…"
Reluctantly, Michael dragged his eyes away from Jose's fuming gaze and down into Liz's pleading brown orbs. The gentle touch of her hands against the skin of his arm sent warm pulses of her concern flowing into him, making it hard to maintain his ire with the other man. The stony wall of his countenance visibly softened as he covered her small hand with his and nodded, surrendering willingly to the pleading that reflected in her eyes and echoed in their bond. By the counter, Max and Maria could only gape in shock at the unprecedented sight of Michael Guerin yielding to someone else's will without conflict.
On the other side of the pickup window, Jose was feeling hung over and frustrated. Somebody needed to finish the damn sentence for him right now. "What the hell was I supposed to have known?" He snapped when it became obvious no one felt like elaborating.
He was almost sorry he'd opened his mouth when Michael swung around to face him again. The warmth that had filled the other man's face while communing with Liz had evaporated, leaving a frighteningly blank expression that did nothing to balance out the raging fury blazing in his eyes. The cook took an involuntary step back as the cold fire of that gaze burned into him. Michael noted Jose's unconscious move with grim satisfaction as he hurled his accusation, "Liz was attacked last night by the customer you left her alone with."
Michael's barb found its mark as Jose noticed the harsh discoloration of Liz's bruises for the first time. "Dios mio," he whispered weakly, reverting to Spanish in his shock as he hurriedly left the kitchen to examine the damage up close. "Querida, lo siento…" he murmured in dismay as he took in the extent of the bruising. Liz squirmed uncomfortably as he tilted her chin to get a better look at the damage.
"I'm okay," she said finally, unable to take Jose's horrified staring and mumbled apologies anymore. "It looks worse than it is." Slipping free of his grasp, she began heading back towards her coffee on the counter as the phone began to ring. Seeing her opportunity for a break from everyone's scrutiny, Liz dove gratefully for the telephone. "Crashdown Café! How may I help you?"
Jose turned toward Michael as Liz hurried to the phone, only to find the other man watching him with dark eyes. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he began hesitatingly, "I would never…I mean, man, you've got to believe me – I never would've left her alone if I thought for a second–"
"Enough." Michael cut him off with an abrupt wave of his hand. He stepped closer and continued fiercely, "The cops think the asshole who attacked her is the White Sands Stalker." The color drained from Jose's face at his pronouncement and Maria and Max broke off their quiet conversation to stare at him in shock. Michael ignored them all as he glared at Jose, reaching up to grab handfuls of the man's shirt to yank him forward threateningly. "If she had died,"he snarled in the cook's face, "if he had raped her…" His growl trailed off, giving Jose a moment to let the gravity of the situation set in before he released his grip on the cook's shirt with a jerk. Taking a step back to lean against the counter, he pinned the man with a dark look and continued in an ominously calm, almost conversational tone. "Let's just say that being sorry wouldn't have saved you."
Their eyes locked, and the force of Michael's condemnation bore into him. An icy chill shivered up his spine as Jose absorbed how serious the threat was. It was obvious that as far as the dirty blonde man in front of him was concerned, Liz's safety was worth his life. The bleak rage burning behind Michael's eyes whispered to him how lucky he was that she was alright and how painful the retribution would have been if her attacker had gotten any further. Jose paled further at the realization and nodded in shaky understanding.
Satisfied that he had made his point, Michael nodded back slowly. "Get back to the grill," he stated firmly. "And remember: No one works alone." This time, Jose didn't question his right to give orders as he slunk back to the kitchen.
"The White Sands Stalker!!!" Maria's shrill squeal dragged his attention away from Jose's retreat. Flicking a concerned glance at Liz, he was relieved to note she was still on the phone. A quick check of the bond revealed that she was talking to her parents. Turning his attention to the irate blonde tugging on his sleeve, Michael allowed himself to be hauled around to the other side of the counter to deal with their friends.
"You didn't tell us she was attacked by the White Sands Stalker!" Maria whispered furiously with a worried look darted in Liz's direction to ensure she didn't hear them.
Max didn't seem nearly as concerned about not drawing Liz's attention. "Jesus, Michael!" he yelled angrily at his fellow alien. "How could you leave that monster's marks on her?! You can heal the small stuff, those bruises should be gone!"
Glaring at the irate boy, Michael was relieved to note that Jose had gone into the freezer to get supplies and had missed Max's tirade. "Use your head, Maxwell," he snarled back, more than a little upset that he couldn't heal her and pissed at Max for not thinking it through. "The police took pictures of her injuries. They need them for evidence to put that psycho away; don't you think it'd look a little suspicious if she showed up at the station today magically healed?"
Conceding his point, Max had the grace to flush in embarrassment at his oversight. "You still could have sped it up a little," he grumbled, unwilling to completely give up the argument.
Setting his jaw angrily at the admission, Michael ground out, "My control's not that good."
"Then you should have called me!" Max snapped back. "You should have called me anyway! I'm the one who should have fallen asleep with her on the couch!"
Michael gaped at the other man's fixation and Maria descended on him like a storm. Max opened his mouth to continue, but Maria smacked the back of his head to silence him. "Leave it alone, Max," she snarled at the dark haired boy as he turned to glare at her. Planting her hands on her hips, she glared back at him, "How can you even be focusing on that?! Liz was attacked last night! Don't you think that rates higher on the important scale than your petty relationship issues?" Michael watched quietly from his post at the counter, grateful to have the blonde dynamo on his and Liz's side. Dealing with a jealous Max and a pissed off Maria would be too much to inflict on anyone after the night they'd had.
Liz had rejoined them in time to see Maria whack Max at the beginning of her outburst. Leaning on the counter next to Michael, she watched as Max absorbed her best friend's rant and slumped contritely in his chair.
Darting his eyes towards the battered form of his ex-girlfriend, he sighed. "Sorry, Liz," he said remorsefully. "Maria's right; the important thing is that you're okay." He turned to glare at the little blonde, but all her attention was on her best friend. Off to the side, Michael smirked. It was nice to see the "perfect" Max Evans on the receiving end of some patented Deluca ire instead of him for a change.
Liz watched the other girl's approach warily after her show of pique. "We really didn't mean to worry you guys," she repeated as she ruefully shook her head. "We should've left a note or something."
Maria carefully eased her into a hug. "S'okay," she murmured into Liz's dark tresses. "It's not like you didn't have enough on your mind. I'm just glad you're alright." Pulling back, she smoothed some hair away from the uninjured side of her friend's face. "Just, call me next time okay?"
"Promise," Liz pledged solemnly, and pulled the little blonde into another hug.
Clearing his throat, Michael asked, "Who was on the phone?"
Raising her head from Maria's shoulder, Liz shot him an ironic look at the question, knowing full well he'd already used the bond to find out the answer. "My parents," she said aloud as she pulled out of Maria's arms. "Their flight out of Vegas was cancelled because of a technical problem with the engines." Pressing a tired hand to her forehead, she continued, "They got another flight, but it's not till later. Unfortunately that means they missed the shuttle they had booked from the airport to bring them home, and with the Balloon Festival going on in Albuquerque all the rest of the shuttles and car rentals are booked solid. I'm supposed to drive up and get them."
"What time does their flight get in?" Michael asked as he checked the wall clock.
"11:55," Liz replied distantly, thinking longingly of the nap she'd intended to have after finishing this conversation with Max and Maria.
Knocking back the remainder of his coffee, Michael set the cup down resolutely. "We'd better get going then. It's more than a three hour drive to the airport in Albuquerque." There was a moment of silence, and then it seemed to him that everyone started protesting at the same time.
Maria: "Michael, don't you have work–"
Max: "I'll take her–"
Liz: "You don't have to–"
He silenced them all with a hard look. Addressing their concerns one by one, he started with Maria. "Today's my day off. Max, you're due at the UFO Center in half an hour." Turning to face Liz, he said simply, "And I want to." Liz smiled up at him and the edges of the bond tingled with the warmth of her regard. Aware suddenly of how strong the desire was to bask in that warmth like a cat under a ray of sunshine, he smirked at her, "Didn't go to all that trouble saving you only to have you kill yourself fallin' asleep at the wheel."
"You didn't get any more sleep than she did!" Max sputtered in protest.
Michael shrugged dismissively, "I'm used to it. She's not."
Swiveling his stool toward Liz, Max said pleadingly, "I can take the day off, it's no problem."
"Max, it's a three hour car ride back. My dad hates you." Liz shook her head negatively, "I'm too tired to deal with the extra drama." She smiled at her ex to soften the blow, but it was obviously forced. Twisting toward Michael, she didn't realize how noticeable it was that her plastic grin melted into a real smile once aimed his way. She may not have seen how her entire demeanor softened when she looked up at her unlikely hero, but her audience did. Max and Maria shared a bemused glance at her behavior.
Oblivious to the undercurrents swirling around her, Liz placed a questioning hand on Michael's forearm. "Are you sure it's alright?" She asked tenuously. "I hate to see you waste your only day off like this…"
Ignoring her question, Michael nudged her toward her family's apartment. "Get your purse and a pillow, Parker. You can sleep on the drive up." For one bright, blinding moment, the link between them opened and her gratitude flowed over him like a wave. Dazed by the unexpected outpouring, he watched numbly as she said her goodbyes to Max, Jose, and Maria, promising repeatedly to stay safe and be careful. He'd never been exposed to much positive emotion from other people in his life, and having such an intimate conduit into Liz's heart was seriously starting to get to him. The girl felt everything at such a roaring decibel it left his ears ringing. And the way she felt about the people she cared for, about him, was positively addicting. It was rapidly reaching the point where he had to fight to keep the bond at first level the majority of the time. The desire to wrap himself continuously in the heady blanket of her affections that second level offered was almost overwhelming.
He shook off his daze in time to hear Liz assert to Max in exasperation, "I'll be fine! Michael takes good care of me." He didn't want to examine why the wide smile she graced him with following that proclamation made his heart ache.
"C'mon, Parker," he said gruffly as he scrubbed a tired hand through his hair. "Let's get this show on the road." Nodding to everyone else, he couldn't help giving a relieved sigh once he managed to shepherd Liz upstairs. He slumped against the door as he closed it behind him and was surprised when, rather that get her things, Liz sagged wearily against his side.
"And you said I was exhausting," she murmured into the fabric of his jacket.
He gave a sharp bark of astonished laughter at her statement and wrapped an arm around her waist in a half hug. "You are exhausting. They just have the added bonus of being annoying too." Liz chuckled weakly, and he surprised himself by pressing a kiss against the crown of her head as she slipped an arm around him. The heat of her body seeped through his clothes, relaxing knotted muscles he hadn't realized he'd tensed during their little showdown in the café. Recognizing that if they didn't start moving he was going to fall asleep standing up, he pushed them away from the door and steered Liz back towards her room.
Releasing the brunette with a squeeze, he nabbed a pillow from her bed as she grabbed her purse and a jacket. He caught the longing gaze she threw at the bed, and snorted in amusement. "Don't even think it, Parker," he smirked as he launched the pillow at her. "You so much as sit on that thing and you're out. I'll be damned if I'm carryin' your ass to the car."
Narrowly managing to stop the projectile cushion from tagging her in the head, she gave the bed a final yearning look as she tromped towards the door. "Mean people suck, Michael," she told him as she passed. "Don't make me hit you with my pillow."
"Oh yeah, I'm worried." Shaking his head, he laughed as he followed her out to the car and teased, "News flash, Parker: You're about as scary as a wet kitten."
Jerking the passenger side door of her mom's car open in a huff, she stuck her tongue out at him. "Screw you, Michael. Most things that are small and furry have sharp claws, you know."
Sliding into the driver's side with a grin, Michael plucked the keys out her hand. Twisting the key in the ignition, he peeked at her out the corner of his eye before facing her and saying with a straight face, "Meow."
She blinked at him for a moment before dissolving into giggles. She knew she must be exhausted if such a little thing was striking her as so hilarious, but she couldn't help meowing back at him as she reclined the seat and snuggled into her pillow. Michael could be so unexpectedly funny at times.
Meow, indeed.
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Three and a half hours later found them huddled together on an uncomfortably hard plastic bench waiting for her parents' flight to disembark. The airport was packed and Michael had wrapped an arm around her to secure her to his side after some guy tried to wedge his way onto the bench between them. Unconsciously cuddling his shoulder, she sighed in satisfaction when she felt him rest his chin on the top of her head. Their connection echoed with his fatigue and she was inordinately glad to feel his body relaxing against hers. He had let her sleep the entire drive, waking her up only when they'd parked in the airport garage. The extra three hours rest had done wonders for her and she was hoping he'd have the same opportunity on the ride back. Though, knowing her parents, questions about her attack would probably take at least half the trip home.
Sighing regretfully, she wondered if there was anyway she could convince mom and dad to hold off on the interrogation until after they made it back.
"You're thinking too loud." She jumped at the sound of Michael's voice ringing in her head.
"Sorry," she returned sheepishly as she chewed on her lower lip. "Just trying to figure out a way to shield you from my parents."
"I don't need shielded, Elizabeth," he thought with firm tenderness in her direction. The complicated swirl of emotion that surrounded the full version of her name left her gaping up at him. He ignored her slack jawed expression and continued, "Your parents love you and they worry. That's not a bad thing."
She closed her eyes at the longing and envy that colored his statement. Knowing that he wouldn't welcome her acknowledging his desire and that he would view anything she said as pity, the only thing she could think to do was hug him. Her alien bodyguard stiffened in her arms for a long minute before returning the embrace, pressing his face into the dark silk of her hair to breathe in the comfort she was offering. That was how Jeff and Nancy found them a few minutes later; clinging desperately to one another on an empty bench.
"Lizzie?" At the sound of her mother's voice, Liz opened her eyes and pulled slightly away from Michael.
"Mom?" Busy disentangling herself from her friend, she missed her mom's gasp of dismay at the sight of her bruises.
Nancy stamped down on her shock and dragged her baby girl into her arms. "Oh honey, look at you!" she chided as she took stock of her child's injuries.
Embarrassed at being caught practically groping their daughter, Michael had released Liz and stood to face her father. "Mr. Parker…" he began, hoping to avoid any confrontation in front of Liz. He was surprised when the older man yanked him into a fierce hug.
"Thank you for saving my little girl," Jeff Parker's voice sounded raw in his ears as he clutched him tightly. Pulling back from the puzzled young man, Jeff gripped the back of his neck and pressed their foreheads together. "You're family, Michael. Understand me? If you ever need anything, anything, you just call." Stepping back from the stunned teenager, he gripped the boy's hand in a solid shake before spinning to wrap his arms around his wife and daughter.
Watching the tearful reunion in front of him, Michael had never been more aware of what he missed out on by growing up with Hank. For the first time in his life, he found himself consciously considering the future. Imagining what it would be like to have people that loved him unconditionally, to have a real family of his own. The hunger he felt must've leaked through their bond, because Liz reached out and hauled him into their group hug. Jeff and Nancy accepted his presence unquestioningly, and for one brief moment Michael Guerin knew what it meant to belong.
.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.1.Nancy chuckled weakly as she watched Jeff's eyes float back to the rearview mirror for the fourth time in the last five minutes. "Eyes on the road, dear," she murmured as he surveyed the teenagers behind them instead of the highway. Swinging his gaze back to the road, Jeff shot her a sheepish grin. Nancy shook her head, but couldn't really blame him. The sight in the backseat kept drawing her attention too.
After a slightly more detailed explanation of last night's events, she and Jeff had taken pity on the obviously exhausted teens and told them a more in depth accounting could wait for later. The pair in front had watched, bemused, as Michael tried to force Liz to take the pillow, only to have their daughter tell him unequivocally that since she intended to use his shoulder anyway, if he didn't take the pillow it was just ending up on the floorboards.
Nancy smiled at the memory. She didn't know who was more flabbergasted by Liz's statement, Michael or her husband. The boy had put up a pretty fair resistance, but the instant she had heard the tone of her daughter's voice, she knew it was a lost cause. Stubborn was a trait Liz had inherited from both of her parents and when she sounded like that, you were better off just letting her have her way because nothing was going to stop her. A fact that Michael had finally acceded to reluctantly, hence the scene in the backseat of her Ford Focus.
Michael was a big boy, so the vision of him scrunched down onto the rear seat of her car would have been funny all by itself. But the sight of Liz curled contentedly up on his chest lent the picture a particularly surreal air. She'd seen how these two were when they worked together, normally you couldn't get a word in edgewise between their back and forth quips. To see them lying there so peacefully, Liz swathed in Michael's jacket and his fingers tangled in her hair as he cradled her against him, was just …incongruously fitting. It was like seeing a kitten curled up with a German Shepherd. Were it not for the dark bruises staining her daughter's fragile skin, she'd love to have a picture of this for the mantel.
"We should drop the kids off before we head to the station," she said gently as she watched the Welcome to Roswell sign pass by outside the car and her husband nodded in silent agreement.
A short time afterward, they pulled to a stop in the lot behind the Crashdown. Nancy turned to rouse the two in the back, only to find Michael blinking drowsily up at her, awakened by the vehicle's stop. "We're home," she whispered softly. "Michael, you've been so great about all of this, I hate to ask, but…Would you mind staying with Liz until Jeff and I get back from the police station?"
"Don't worry about it," The tall boy whispered back, unconsciously stroking the back of her daughter's head with his thumb as he held her. "I'll take care of her."
He was too preoccupied after that with carefully waking Liz to notice the strange look Nancy shot his way, or to hear her quiet reply. "I'm sure you will, Michael…I'm sure you will."
Neither parent was particularly surprised when they came home two hours later to find the sleeping pair entwined on the living room couch beneath an old crocheted blanket.
Author's Notes & Sources
1.) Jose translations:
Dios mio! – My god!
Querida, lo siento… – Sweetheart, I'm sorry…
2.) Okay, so the Albuquerque Balloon Festival happens in October, not November. Sue me, I needed the plot device.
3.) Sorry this took so long. I swear, I must've re-wrote this damn thing ten times before I was even marginally happy with it.
