Um…Warning: Violence. Character Death. Foul Language. This is not a happy drabble!

Pain

"MARIA!!!" The ragged scream tore itself from her throat as she watched the woman she considered her sister fall. "No!" she sobbed uselessly, struggling against her husband's grip from behind the relative safety of his flickering shield. "Let me go, let me GO!"

He tightened his hold and dragged her, kicking and screaming, away from the broken form of her dearest friend. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep the wall up forever. Already he was staggering with the impact of every bullet against the weakened sheen of his force field, the sharp percussion of the hits pounding like a sledgehammer inside his skull. The salty tang of blood leaked onto his tongue, and he realized distantly that his nose was bleeding.

He grabbed his wife by the shoulders and shook her, frantic to make her understand that there was nothing they could do now but run. Consequently, he was the only witness to the final jump of Maria's body as one of the snipers finally scored a headshot. Bile rose in his throat at the sight of all that was left of her pretty face.

Liz watched as the horror turned his skin pale and clammy, and spun to see what was happening. Desperately, he seized her chin and forced her eyes back to his. "Sleep," he told her firmly, using everything he'd ever seen of Tess's mindwarping abilities to put her under. She slumped bonelessly and he barely had the presence of mind to catch her before she fell. The squeal of tires behind him pelted them both with gravel, and he twisted to see Michael piloting a black SUV.

"Get in." The other man commanded, and he threw Liz over his shoulder as he leapt toward the door. "Where's Maria?" Michael demanded gruffly as he loaded his precious cargo into the vehicle. It took more restraint than he knew he possessed to keep his eyes from darting over to her ruined remains.

"She didn't make it," he barked as he yanked the door shut. "DRIVE!"

Michael clenched his jaw painfully, but complied. The green haze of Max's shield obscuring the windshield caused his eyes to water as they sped away.

At least, that's what he told himself.

In the back, Max carefully propped Liz up against his side and concentrated on keeping the shield in place. "Kyle and Isabel?" he asked wearily as he leaned his head back against the seat.

"They ditched the VW in Jacksonville and caught a red-eye to Vegas." The bedraggled man swiped a hand across his eyes. "They land in an hour, but there's no sign they were followed."

"Good," Max noted feebly. "The other agents?"

"Disabled their transportation," Michael replied tiredly, his white knuckle grip on the steering wheel betraying how close to the edge he really was. "Should buy us enough time to make it to Wilmington and switch vehicles."

Max sank into the cushions in relief at the realization that they just might make it. He jumped in surprise as Michael angrily slammed his fist against the wheel.

"How the FUCK did they find us?!!!" The shaggy haired driver snarled furiously. "According to Liz's vision we should've had another three days! What the hell happened?!"

In the back, Max bowed his head and swallowed painfully. Michael caught his motion in the rear view mirror and scowled.

"Maxwell," he, growled menacingly at the man behind him. "What. Did. You. Do."

The dark head raised and Max met his glare with liquid, tear-filled eyes. "I called work and told them due to a family situation I wouldn't be coming back in."

All emotion dissolved from Michael's face and he turned his eyes back to the road as he struggled to come to terms with this new information. Max had been working for a pediatric physical therapist, and he knew that his brother had felt awful about leaving the woman in a lurch, but they had all agreed to leave their respective jobs without giving notice. "So let me get this straight," he asked conversationally, his easy tone belying the ice of his expression. "The woman I love is dead…because you made a phone call?"

Max flinched at his assessment, "We don't know that for sure."

"You bastard." The quiet venom in his wife's voice sent a chill up his spine. He turned to find Liz awake beside him, eyes wide with grief and revulsion.

He reached for her entreatingly. "Li-" The sharp crack of her palm against his cheek cut him off mid-word. He gaped at her in shock as she undid the seatbelt he'd fastened around her and scooted away from him.

"Don't touch me," she hissed as she scrambled over the seat into the front with Michael. Yanking the backpack she'd been carrying off her back and into her lap, she dug through its meager contents in agitation. Finally, she yanked a map out of the pack and spread it across the dashboard. "Where are we?" she asked Michael as she straightened the sheet, turning her attention to the business of staying alive in order to keep her mind off Maria and how much she hated her husband right now.

"17 South, 'bout twenty miles out from Wilmington," he answered flatly.

"Route C?" She queried, referring to their pre-determined escape plans. He nodded once and the pair began quietly discussing modifications to the plan, resolutely ignoring the man behind them.

Unable to stand being excluded, Max leaned forward over the seat. "I'm so sorry, Liz." he said during a pause in their planning. "I never meant…"

The tiny brunette straightened her spine, but steadfastly refused to face him. "You're sorry, Max?" she asked in a laughing voice tinged with madness. "You're sorry. Isn't that great, Michael?" she stated bitterly to her driving companion. "He's sorry." The sandy haired man at her side wordlessly reached out and gripped her hand in mutual anguish. Max tried to break in, but she ignored him easily and continued, "The question is, what exactly is he sorry about? Is he sorry for risking all our lives so Dr. Johnson would know she needed someone else to make the coffee?" Liz tapped her finger thoughtfully against her lip, "No, that can't be it. Is he sorry for yanking me away from Maria after the first shot hit wall behind us?" She paused thoughtfully, "No…I'm guessing that's not it either. Maybe he's sorry for allowing Maria to be shot because he left her unshielded beside us? What do you think, Michael?" Her voice rose feverishly higher with every furious syllable as she clutched his hand like a lifeline. "Do you think he's sorry he left Maria to die?!"

Michael gritted his teeth painfully and Max paled at the look on his face. "I-I didn't…You've got to understand!" he protested. "Everything happened so fast, I reacted on instinct! Once the shield came up, I couldn't risk dropping it!"

There was no sympathy in his brother's eyes as he glared at him through the rear view. "Funny that you can shield an entire Ford Explorer now, but you couldn't fit Maria in with you and Liz." His voice trembled on Maria's name. Liz slid across the seat and buried herself against Michael's side, her shoulders shaking as the tears began to flow for the first time since she'd awakened. His arm came up to cradle her comfortingly against him as he pulled his eyes away from Max's and turned his attention back to the road. "Just – shut up, okay? I can't stand to hear the sound of your voice anymore."

Max opened his mouth, and then closed it with a snap. The SUV filled with the painful sound of his wife's sobs. Slumping back against the seat, he stared miserably out the window at the passing North Carolina scenery. Later when he closed his eyes, all he could see was the pleading expression on Maria's face as the shield snapped into place between them.