TWENTY-FIVE

"Baby, there's someone here to see you."

My mom was peering into my room through the door which had been left ajar. She seemed pale, an uncertain smile on her face.

I straightened and placed the book I had been reading next to me on the bed. "Who is it?"

"Dr. Evans, honey."

Dr. Evans? I frowned. I wasn't sick.

"And his son." Mom turned her head and looked at someone behind her, hidden behind the semi-closed door, before looking back at me, "And Sean."

Sean? As in Sean Carter? The quarterback?

"What do they want?" I asked, feeling nervous all of the sudden.

"We just want to talk to you," a deep voice said calmly and the owner of that voice towered up behind my mom as he put a hand above my mom's head to push the door open. He turned to my mom with a smile. "We'll take it from here, Nancy."

My mom looked incredibly pale. "Just don't-"

"Shhh…" Sean, who had just come up behind Dr. Evans, hushed with a smirk. Placing his hands on my mother's shoulders, he looked her intently in the eyes and said slowly, "Time for you to leave now."

"Yes," my mom whispered as though in a daze and blinked slowly. "Of course."

Dr. Evans clapped his hands together, attracting my attention with a start, and I felt the pulse throb against my temples as he smiled at me. "Liz. How are you?"

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

And what did you do to my mom?

There was movement behind the middle aged man and I saw Max Evans quietly move into the room, following his father. His eyes were downcast, his shoulders slumped, as he quietly appeared to be studying the carpet of my bedroom.

"It's time for your check-up," Dr. Evans said naturally and goosebumps of cold fear exploded across every inch of my skin.

"My check-up?" I mumbled. I didn't need a check-up.

I caught Sean staring at me, a smug smile growing larger and larger on his face. His eyes were piercing and ice blue.

"No need to worry," Dr. Evans assured me, the smile still plastered on his face.

"So what are they doing here?" I looked pointedly at the two male adolescents who had entered my room. Even if I were to get a check-up, I would certainly not get one in front of my classmates.

"Educational purposes," Dr. Evans replied calmly.

My heart missed a beat and I hated that my voice trembled as I said, "I want you to leave. You have no right to be here."

Dr. Evans looked over at his blond apprentice and said simply, "Sean."

"Will do, sir," Sean replied with an easy smile.

Will do what?

Sean leisurely approached my bed, smiling like the Cheshire cat, and I scooted up against the head of the bed, the pages of the book I had been reading accidentally folding under the weight of my nervous body. That book would never look the same again.

"Jeez," Sean mumbled as he sank down on his knees in the softness of my mattress. "Always the same reaction."

My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt trapped. Like a wild animal having been forced into a corner with no way out. My eyes desperately flickered in Max's direction. He was the only one in here that was not eyeing me like I was his next meal.

But unfortunately, Max wasn't even looking at me. He seemed to want to get out of here just as badly as I did.

"Liz," Sean coaxed and, against my better judgement, I looked over at the quarterback and got entangled in his eyes.

I kept staring at him, seeing Dr. Evans move around my bed out of the corner of my eye and Max step away from the wall he had been leaning against and following behind his father.

But I couldn't move. Couldn't even move my eyes to see what they were doing as they disappeared out of my range of vision. All I saw was blue. Blue eyes reflecting smugness.

"She's getting more difficult," Sean mumbled and my throat was itching from not being able to swallow.

"We'll be quick," Dr. Evans said behind me.

"Or we could just knock her out," Sean mused, but his voice had become strained.

"No."

That was Max. A strong and authoritative one-worded objection.

Sean shrugged. "It would be much easier, man."

"I can't examine her if she's unconscious," Dr. Evans said lowly behind me.

"Right," Sean grumbled, the smug slowly fading from his face.

Someone was touching my left arm, skimming his fingers around my elbow and up to my shoulder, and my body reacted by creating goosebumps of aversion.

"No glow," Dr. Evans stated.

"I don't mean to be rude, sir," Sean whispered and through my drying eyes I could see a droplet of sweat travel down his forehead while his cheeks flustered with effort, "but could you hurry up? She's fighting me."

"This can't be rushed, Sean," Dr. Evans said impatiently. "It's your task to find a solution to your problem. That's why you're here. To learn."

"Why isn't Max doing anything?" Sean's voice was annoyed and my body struggled to react to the hand that was suddenly placed against my forehead. I felt a small tremble run through me, which gave me hope that my mind was regaining control over my body. I desperately hung onto that feeling, hoping that it would lead me out of my stagnant state.

"That is not his task," Dr. Evans answered, his voice distracted. "Don't insult your own intelligence." He sighed, his breath fanning out over my cheek and nausea built in my throat. "Now. I need her eyes."

If I'd been able to react, I probably would have rolled off the bed and run screaming out of the room. Considering that they seemed to be able to control my body and slow down my thinking, they probably wouldn't have any problems removing my eyes.

"Careful," Dr. Evans warned, just before Sean blinked, breath flowing into my lungs, before my head was ripped to the side by a rough touch to my chin and my eyes connected with the brown eyes of Dr. Evans.

I felt something flutter against my forehead, like some insect was trying to go through my skull. So, naturally, I pushed back.

I registered the complete surprise on Dr. Evans' face before I realized that I was free.

The scream came tumbling up my dry throat and as a result ended in a pitiful croak. "Noooo!"

Strong hands grabbed my arms as I struggled backwards, searching for my voice to scream for help. The back of my head collided with the wall with a loud thump, but the sound was drowned out by the angry cries from Sean and Dr. Evans as they fought to restrain my struggling body.

"Let her be!"

Max's voice cut through the commotion, but I didn't dare to listen to it, as the hands left my body on Max's command and I tried to organize my limbs enough to find a way off the bed, out of the corner into which they had pushed me.

"Well?" Dr. Evans drawled, sounding out of breath.

My curiosity made me grow momentarily still and look up. To see what was happening. To see who Dr. Evans was addressing.

My eyes were so dry from not blinking that my vision was blurry, reducing my ridiculous odds at escaping even further, but I could see his face through the blur.

"Hey," he said quietly, taking a cautious step towards me, treating me like the wild animal I felt like. He held his hands out in front of him and added in a gentle whisper, "It's okay."

"Stay away," I whispered back, the words scratching against my dry throat.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he pleaded and I thought I saw sadness in his eyes. Regret.

"Stay away," I repeated, whipping my head towards the door, trying to assess how to get out of here. But Sean was on my right side and Dr. Evans on my left. And in front of me was Max.

There was no way out.

I looked at Max, considered that he seemed like a reluctant participant from the start, but immediately questioned if this was some kind of 'Good Cop/Bad Cop'-routine and that he was only playing a part. I couldn't trust him, I couldn't-

"Oh, fuck this," Sean sighed and before I had time to react he had grabbed me and pressed my back into the mattress.

I heard Max's cry of protest in the background, but all I saw was Sean's eyes, one inch from mine, as I once again lost the right to my own will power. My arm was painfully extended and I felt something sharp prick the inside of my elbow.

Max's voice was sharp behind Sean, "Get off her!", but this time, no one paid him any attention.

"This has always been your weakness," Dr. Evans mumbled. "You care too much, son. She'll be fine. Can't you see that she's fine? She won't remember any of this."

"It doesn't matter. You don't have to treat her like that. I could have asked her, talked to her."

"We don't have all night," Sean said, a drop of saliva falling on my lips as he enunciated the 't' in 'night'. And my stomach wanted to turn inside out. But it couldn't.

"It will all be over soon," Dr. Evans mumbled vaguely.

I bolted upright, my heart hammering in my chest, my fingers cramping around the duvet.

"Another nightmare?"

If my breath hadn't already been halted in my throat, I would have screamed. Blind fear shot through me as I snapped my head towards the voice, my eyes landing on a still figure standing in the darkest corner of my room.

I gasped, instinctively pushing back up against the wall.

No! No more experiments! No more tests!

But then he leaned forward, slowly bringing himself out of the darkness, and the soft white light of the moon fell on the side of his face, illuminating his familiar features.

"Oh my God," I sobbed, my feelings snapping and breaking all around me.

His presence from my dream was still too prevalent, too fresh in my mind. It had seemed so real. Too real. Making me wonder if it had been a memory. Another one of the type of visit that I had seen from Max's memory when he had healed me.

"Sorry," he grumbled, his solemn eyes large and dark in the night. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"What are you doing here?" My breath caught and stumbled on another sob.

God, I was a wreck.

Max reflected back how I must look. There was uncertainty in the way he held his body and insecure fear in the thinness of his lips.

He didn't move from his corner, though, standing tall and awkward in the shadows, his eyes bright in their search of my face. His inactivity ripped through me, laboring the sobs, worsening the trembles, and desolately, I wrapped my arms around my middle, pressing against the bandage applied by Mr. Evans.

"You wanted to talk," he whispered, his voice distant as he reminded me of the obvious.

Not just his voice was distant, he was distant. I had grown accustomed to him frequently touching me, leaning in close, whispering suggestions into my ears… This was new. This was cold. Lonely.

"Yeah," I sniffled, brushing back my damp hair from my face.

I was momentarily distracted by my own appearance. I was only wearing a T-shirt, my whole body was covered in sweat, my eyes were probably red from crying and I really really needed to blow my nose.

And over in the corner of my bedroom was Max - tall, collected, dark and beautiful.

I shrunk back into myself, pulling the duvet up to my chin.

He watched my quietly, which brought my emotions to confusing levels, before he pushed off the wall on which he had been leaning and crossed the room, moving towards the door.

Panic seized me - out of nowhere - and my arm stretched out in the empty air.

"Don't leave," I pleaded tearfully, on the brink of emotional collapse.

He halted, paused for a second, before turning his head to look straight at me. Warmth brushed the lining of my heart and some part of me immediately relaxed. His arm closed the distance between our hands, his much larger hand squeezing my warm one gently, causing goosebumps to spread up my arm, and he gave me a crooked soft smile.

"I'll be right back."

I bit my bottom lip to prevent myself from crying even more than I already was and nodded my wordless understanding.

As soon as he exited the room, I rolled out of bed, quickly pulled out the drawer on my nightstand and found a box of Kleenex. I blew my nose, wiped my whole face dry of tears and sweat, and hurried back in bed so that Max wouldn't see my bare legs.

He was quiet as a mouse as he pushed the door opened just a minute later. I probably didn't have to worry that he might alert my dad to his unannounced visit, he was too quiet and fluid in his movements.

Like a professional burglar…

He had brought me a glass of water. I felt my fears at his distance immediately calm as he offered the cold glass to me. "Here. Drink."

"Thanks," I mumbled, taking the glass and rather greedily gulping the water down.

He was standing over me, his body about a feet from my bed, and I could hear every breath he took as I finished the tall glass of water.

"More?" he asked and to my relief there was humor in his eyes as I looked up at him.

I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm fine." I had been thirsty, okay?

He offered to take the glass away and I gave it to him, while licking the last droplets of water off my lips. His eyes were on my face, straying to my mouth, making me stop my movements. There was a stretch of time between us, before he took a deep breath, separated our gazes and turned to place the empty glass on the desk behind him.

"So," he mumbled, turning back again. He raked nervous hands through his hair and leaned back against the desk - putting space between us again. "What do you want to know?"

I supplied him with an incredulously raised eyebrow. What didn't I want to know?

His lips twitched in a tempted smile, as he seemed to understand my unspoken question. "Right. Fire away, Ms. Parker."

Where should I start? I had so many questions. And looking at Max now, although he was obviously nervous and apprehensive, he seemed to mean it this time. He was actually going to answer my questions.

The most natural place to start, though, seemed to be, "Why is my mom dead?"