Chapter Four

De Combat Ou De Fuite

Fight Or Flight

--

"What are you doing here?" I'm slightly relieved that it's not a burglar, but I still can't shake that uneasy feeling I get everytime he's around. Feelings of fear, trepidation and anger that make me feel like I'm not completely in control over the situation, and that scares me. I hate myself a little for being afraid of him, hate him even more for that. The fact that the bruise he gave me when he grabbed me at school during my investigation of Alex' death didn't start to fade until a week after the incident come to my mind. I can feel my back stiffen at the sight of him standing there like he own the place.

Apparently he doesn't notice my unease, because he steps closer to me and smiles a smile that's a little too confident for my liking.

"We need to talk, Liz." He says with puppydog eyes that would've had me caving to his needs not a few months earlier. Now it just pisses me off.

"I have nothing to say to you, Max. We're closed so get out. And if you decide to force the lock again I'll call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering." It's an empty threat. I'd never go that far. The risk of him being found out isn't worth the satisfaction of putting him in his place, but I'm hoping he'll buy it anyway.

No such luck.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. "You know we're going to have to work this out someday, Liz."

Maybe, I think, but not today.

"Get out, Max." My voice sounds much steadier than I'm feeling.

He doesn't move, he just stands there with his arms crossed over his chest and a stubborn expression on his face. "Not until you talk to me."

Okay, he's really pissing me off now. Great timing he has too. Michael just left and my parents aren't here. They're on vacation in Zimbabwe, finally after years of planning. I consider my options. A physically throw him out. No way I'll be able to do that. B call the cops. I'm not that mean. C simply walk away. I'm not really happy with leaving him alone in the diner, but right now it's the best option.

Walking away it is.

I sigh and put the bat down. "Fine." I bite out and walk past him...

...only to be yanked back painfully by the arm.

The anger in his eyes scares me almost as much as the amount of pressure on my arm. I have a feeling that if he squeezes any harder the bones'll snap right in half.

"Max, please let go of me." I'm all but begging.

"Not until you talk to me." He says again. I don't think I've ever been this terrified before in my life. I can't help whimper when he tightens his grip on my arm even more.

"Max, please! You're hurting me." I can feel tears running down my cheeks as I try to break free of his grip. Which I realise is a bad idea, since that only makes him yank me closer.

"When are you going to stop this nonsense, Liz? When are you going to stop being so damn stubborn and come back to me where you belong, huh? This game you've been playing has gone on long enough, you hear me?"

I can't believe that all this is really happening. Somehow I manage to muster up enough courage to try and break myself free with all of my remaining strenght.

"LET GO OF ME!" One of my arms is released and I take the opportunity to hit him in the face as hard as I can.

It doesn't do much good and the next thing I know is a sickening crack! as he throws me into the bar and the pain in my arm. I feel dizzy. A terrifying thought enters my head. He's going to kill me.

Before I can blink there's a bright flash of light and suddenly Max is lying unconscious in one of the booths. Michael's face swims into my vision, worry evident on his face. I want to ask him what he's doing here, but the pain in my arm is getting worse and right now I'm just want it to stop. Besides it doesn't really matter why he came back, I'm just glad he did.

"Lizzie, can you hear me? Where does it hurt?" I try to focus on his face, but everything's getting a bit fuzzy. He looks scared. I must look worse than I thought.

"M- My arm, I think it's broken and I feel diz-" I reach up with my good hand to grab my head to make the room stop spinning only to yank it back when something sticky clings to my fingers...blood.

I'm bleeding from the head...not good.

"Oh God, Liz. Look I'm going to take you to the hospital, I'll call your parents from there, alright?" Before I can answer he's already picked me up and put me in a car. Max's Car, I realise.

"Lizzie, I need you to stay awake alright? You might have a concussion." He says as he gets his cellphone and starts dialing. His voice sounds far away and slower than it's supposed to be. Everything's out of focus and getting darker. I'm brought back to reality by his panicked voice speaking into the phone.

"Valenti, I need you to...Kyle? What are you doing home? Nevermind, look I don't have a lot of time. Call your dad and tell him to arrest Max...He hurt Liz, I'm driving her to the hospital as we speak. Go get Izzie and meet us there alright?"

It's getting harder and harder to stay awake. My world's becoming darker and I find it hard to focus on anything besides my stinging arm and the throbbing in my skull. I have to fight down vomit when I feel blood trickling down my neck. Everything's so blurry.

I feel his hand on my cheek as he turns my head to face him. "Liz, honey, you need to hold on a little longer, okay? We're almost there."

I try to, but everything's getting dark and fuzzy and then...

...and then I can't.

--

When I open my eyes everything is suddenly too bright and I shut them again quickly. Where the hell am I?

"Liz?" Comes an uncertain voice. I open my eyes slightly, still getting adjusted to the bright lights. Michael's face, a worried expression on his face. And that's all it takes for it all to come back to me quite suddenly.

Crashdown. Max. Headwound. Blood. Michael. Car. And now I'm in the hospital. I hate hospitals.

"Hey." I say, my voice sounds croaky. I lift up my arm to wipe the sleep out of my eyes, only to notice it's in a cast. Great, so it's broken, that's going to make serving dishes a lot more complicated.

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

My head is killing me, I'm nauseous, my arm is broken, it hurts to breathe, i feel faint and my parents are thousands of miles away.

"Crappy." I decide to stay instead. He laughs before going off to find the doctor.

And apparently conveiying the news that I'm awake to his sister, because Isabel enters my room a few seconds later, closely followed by both Valenti men and, to my surprise, Maria.

The sheriff speaks up first.

"We called your parents. Unfortunately they can't get a flight out for another nine days. They've given me the authority to sign your hospital consent forms. I've also got Max locked up back at the station under twenty-four hour surveillance to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid. Apparently he's been drinking, when I found him his bloodalcohol levels were twice the legal limit. He'll be sent off to county as soon as you've pressed charges."

"I-I can't do that." I say.

"WHAT?" Kyle exlaims. "Liz, the guy attacked you, put you in the hospital for christ's sake and you want to let him get away with that?!"

"No, Kyle, I don't want to let him get away with it, but I can't send him to prison."

"Why?" The older Valenti asks me. I look at Isabel, who seems to be torn between wanting Max to be punished and the love she has for her brother.

"They take blood sample's in prison." I simply say. I watch as that piece of informatio sinks in. As much as the image of Max being molested in the shower by some giant fat guy named Tiny appeals to me, I can't send him to his death. I know what happened when Pierce had gotten him in that room. Nobody deserves that.

"Just say some stranger came in through the back door, Max unlocked that, and tried to rob the place and I got in the way or something." I suggest.

The sheriff nods. "Alright, on one condition." He says as he looks at everyone in the room, lingering on Izzie. "Max will be dealt with."

"Count on it." I turn my head in the direction of the angy growl and find Michael's face.

"The doctor'll be here in a minute." He says before sitting down beside me.

--

"You'll have to stay for observation for at least another twelve hours. If you're feeling well enough we'll consider letting you go home, if there will be supervision. Headwounds are very tricky things and you took quite a blow, you've lost a significant amount of blood, we had to give you a transfusion. You also have three bruised ribs and a broken arm, movement will remain quite painful for at least a fortnight. I advise you take things slowly for at least a week or two, depending on your recovery. Because of your concussion and the amount of bloodloss I'm afraid you aren't allowed any painkillers, Miss Parker." With a nod the doctor leaves.

"Alright, so who's going to babysit me, 'cause I'm not staying here any longer than I have to." Michael chuckles and shrugs.

"I've got plenty of room, you can stay with me if you want." I can see Maria stiffen up behind him, a cold look in her eyes. I ignore it and smile at him. Happy that I won't have to stay with Kyle, he tends to turn into a mother hen whenever someone's hurt.

"And we'll al help out at the diner, that way you can rest and recover." Isabel pipes up as she grabs my uncasted hand.

It's only now that I notice that the fingers of my casted hand have been tightly curled around Michael's ever since the doctor came in. He doesn't seem to mind, so I decide not to let go.

"And I'll bring you your schoolwork every day and-" I shake my head and interupt her.

"No I'm going to school."

"But you can't, you're hu-"

"I'm a little banged up, Iz. I'm not an invalid."

Isabel is about to protest again as Maria finally says something.

"I'd take it Isabel. Just be glad she's actually letting you make her take time off work." She leaves soon after and I'm glad. I'm touched she came, maybe there's some hope for us yet, but the connection we had has gone and her presence is a painful reminder of happier days that I can't face just yet.

The sheriff's next to leave to free Max, accompanied by Isabel and Kyle who ahev figured that he'll need some supervision tonight. So now it's just me and Michael.

"Thank you for taking me to the hospital." He shrugs off my graditude. "Why'd you come back, anyway?"

He holds up his worn copy of James Joyce's Ulysses. "Left this in the kitchen, I could hear you scream when I parked. Good thing I'd forgotten it too, who knows what would've happened if I hadn't come along." I shiver slightly at that thought and notice him doing the same.

I look at the clock on the taupe hospital wall. Why is it always taupe? It's 3.15 in the morning. I know Michael has the 4-8 shift at Metachem.

"You should go, you've got work soon." I tell him, even though I don't want him to leave.

He snorts. "Yeah right, you really think I'm going to leave you here all alone after you had the magnificent idea to let Max out? You must've hit your head harder than you thought." And with that he puts his feet up on the edge of my bed and opens his book. One of his hands still tightly holding onto mine.

I smile at his sudden overprotectiveness before giving in to the blissful realms of sleep.

--

I drop onto his couch completely exhausted. After another dozen tests the doctor finally allowed me to go. I look around his apartment with interest. It's greatly improved since the last time I've been here. The ratty furniture's still the same, but somehow the room looks more homely. There are cd's scattered everywhere and most of the crummy wallpaper is covered up with posters. It may not be very trendy or neat, but it's very him.

I smile at him as he comes in carrying my bag of clothes. He drops them in the bedroom before coming to sit down next to me.

"You alright?" he asks.

I shrug before wincing, having bruised ribs sucks!

"Tired." I say. "Thanks again for letting me stay here, Michael."

"Yeah, yeah. Enough with the graditude. Oh and you're sleeping in the bed, I'm sleeping on the couch. Don't even try to argue with me, Liz." I just nod. I'm glad I'm sleeping in the bed, these ribs hurt bad enough without having them poked by couchsprings.

He orders us chinese food and tells me to pick a movie. I decide on The Gladiator.

I smile as he hands me my carton of Kung Pao chicken with noodles and a peach Snapple.

I lie back down with a smile and snuggle into the pillows he got me from the bedroom when he noticed that sitting on the couch wasn't very comfortable. So I'm lying on the couch now, one pillow rested a my side aganst the couch, the other under my back, while my head is lying in his lap. I was kind of embaressed to ask him if i could use his leg as a headrest, but now I don't really care, for the first time in hours I'm remotely comfortable. Besides, Michael doesn't seem to think it's a big deal.

Apparently Maria does.