Title: This Brilliant Dance

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, FFN wouldn't let me upload for the longest time.

I don't really know anything about Hank Guerin or what he did on the show besides the time he hit Michael. I gave him a bit of a background in this story, and a bit of an identity beyond just 'Michael's deadbeat foster-father.' If it conflicts with something that we learned on the show, I apologize, I didn't know.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Father Figures

He didn't even have to look at his foster father to know that Hank was in a bad mood. The moment he pushed the door open and stepped inside, he could feel it in the air. Drawing a breath, he stepped quickly into the room and shot an apprehensive look at Hank before making his way quickly towards his own room.

"Where you been, boy?" Hank growled.

Michael turned and looked at Hank. "At school," he replied simply.

"Where you been after school? Where were you yesterday when them guidance counselor came looking for you?" Hank demanded harshly. He wasn't drunk, but his temper wasn't entirely under control either.

Michael eyed him silently, as though weighing his options, before replying stiffly, "Out." He knew there was no reason to give specifics, Hank didn't actually care that much. He was probably only concerned about any inconvenience Michael might cause him.

And sure enough, "I don't want you takin' no attitude with me. Don't want no problems." Hank rubbed his hands on his pants, smearing grease and oil across the fabric, and Michael wondered if he had actually gone into work today. He held a number of odd jobs around town, one of which was working part time at a mechanic's shop. He rarely showed up for work, and his boss probably should have fired him along time ago, but hadn't. Michael wasn't really sure why, and didn't really care, but it was a surprise to see that his foster father had actually shown up for work.

And then it occurred to Michael that Hank might have been worried about Ms. Topolski's opinion. Since Hank didn't really know why Ms. Topolski was asking questions, he could have possibly thought that she was checking up on him, and not Michael. After all, Michael had missed school quite a bit before in the past, and this was the first authority figure who had ever bothered to come to his home and make sure he was alright.

Which lead Michael to questioned why Ms. Topolski had come at all. He didn't believe for one minute that she was actually worried about him. Especially since Tess had mentioned that she had been asking Trudy questions about the fourth alien. No, she was looking for something else entirely, and Michael paled suddenly as he wondered what exactly Hank had told Ms. Topolski when she came to visit.

"Did you hear me?" Hank asked angrily, and Michael jolted back to the present.

"Yeah, I heard," he sighed. "I'm not causing any trouble."

"Then why did the guidance lady come by?" Hank wanted to know.

Michael shrugged. "Don't know," he answered, and that was partially true. He turned to leave, but Hank's next words stopped him in his tracks.

"You need help gettin' out of some sort of trouble?"

Michael turned and stared at his foster father, silently racking his brain for any other time when his foster father had agreed to help him, let alone actually offer it. He opened his mouth to say something, and then realized he had nothing to say. He had no idea how to respond to that comment.

He shook his head and turned back towards his room. Hank was just offering to help because he was worried that Ms. Topolski would report him as a bad foster father. Or maybe he was just worried that whatever Michael was getting himself into, it would end up affecting him as well, and he wanted to prevent that. Michael nodded, convincing himself that one of those two was probably the case, and opened the door to his room, disappearing inside.

He collapsed into his bed, letting his mind run over the events of the past two days. The conversation with Liz, Alex, and Isabel had not yielded any answers, but at least everyone now knew what was going on. Alex had not seemed as interested in seeing the orb as Liz was, and Max had offered to take her back to his house so that she could look at it. Max currently had the orb in his room, along with the button that Michael had found in Deputy Hannigan's car.

Which then made Michael think of the shape-shifter that Isabel had seen. Was he still around? He hadn't made any moves, but it was possible that he was lurking in the shadows, biding his time. In all the commotion with Amy's accident, the discovery of Atherton's book, Michael's road trip across a few states and the orb, along with suspicions about Topolski and questions about the flashes Liz had seen, they had forgotten about the shape-shifter.

But Michael shook his head. That wasn't right, they hadn't forgotten. Michael was fairly certain that Max had purposely chosen not to deal with that, because he was hoping that if they did nothing to make themselves stand out, the shape-shifter would not realize that they weren't fully human.

Which wasn't a logical proposition, because it was rather likely that the shape-shifter knew exactly who they were and that was why he was here.

But if that was the case, why hadn't he stepped forward at all in the past couple weeks? If not to attack them, than at least too acknowledge his existence. What was he waiting for?

And that unanswered question worried Michael more than anything else.

And as usual, Max wanted to do nothing. Just act normal, and hope that everything resolved itself.

That wouldn't work.

However, although he did not want to admit it, Michael did agree that Max had a point about drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. There was just too much going on right now to take that risk.

Still, sitting around and doing nothing seemed like a bad idea…

Which brought his thoughts back to the orb. What was it? What did it mean? Why was it hidden? Who hid it? Did this mean there were other aliens on Earth? Were they enemies or friends?

And most importantly, what do the four of them do now?

Unbidden, Maria's face floated into his mind, and Michael sighed, changing his previous question.

What do the seven of them do now?

"Sheriff Valenti? My name is Julia Topolski. I'm the guidance counselor at Roswell High School," Ms. Topolski said pleasantly as she took the seat in front of Valenti's desk.

Valenti looked up sharply. His eyes widened ever so slightly, and he asked in instant concern, "Is something wrong? Kyle? Tess?"

"No, no," Ms. Topolski said, waving her hand to signify that his concerns were baseless. "Your son and daughter are fine, Sheriff. I was actually here to ask you a few questions about Michael Guerin."

Valenti raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his seat. He studied the woman in front of him for a moment, before asking curiously, "What about him?"

"I am slightly concerned about his lack of attendance at school," Ms. Topolski explained. "I just wanted to see if you had any background information on him that might help me better understand him." She flashed a smile and folded her hands in her lap, trying her best to appear as though she was merely concerned for one of her students.

Valenti rubbed the back of his head with one hand as he carefully considered his choice of words. "I don't know anything specific about Michael Guerin that I would be able to release without his permission or the permission of his legal guardian."

"Perhaps your general impression, then?" Ms. Topolski questioned. "I'm certainly not asking you to release confidential information to me, but I am concerned. I understand that Michael has not had a great home life, and I was wondering if it showed up at all in his behavior towards… legal issues."

"He hasn't committed any felonies, if that is what you're thinking," Valenti replied. "Far as I know, he's stayed out of big trouble. Certainly nothing to get him mentioned to me." There was something off about that statement, as though for some reason he was interested in Michael, but he just couldn't explain it. Then the feeling passed, and he wondered vaguely whether or not he had imagined it in the first place.

"You said nothing big?" Ms. Topolski pressed. "What about small things?"

"Fights at school, truancy, talking back to teachers," Valenti explained. "Little things that don't get him sent to the Sheriff's office, but still I hear about them." He paused for a moment, then asked cautiously, "You know about Hank Guerin?"

Ms. Topolski nodded grimly. "Yes, I spoke to him yesterday. Unfortunately, he was not… forthcoming… in the conversation." She gave a wry smile and said, "Although that might have been because he was too drunk."

Valenti nodded. "There's never been any real domestic disturbance there, and every time anyone from social services asks him about, Michael says its going fine." His tone left little doubt that he was fairly certain the boy was lying, but there was really nothing he could do about it.

"Does this concern you?" Ms. Topolski asked.

Valenti sighed. "Yes and no. Like I said, he's never shown up at the hospital with signs of physical abuse, so its hard to know what exactly is going on. I don't think Hank is that bad of a foster father, he's just certainly not a good one." He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then said, "I've seen some pretty bad fathers and husbands in the past. People who hit their children and wives, starve them, emotionally torment them. Hank's not doing any of that."

Ms. Topolski nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line. "You seem to know a lot about his situation," she said thoughtfully. "Do you follow all the foster kids this closely?"

Valenti gave a chuckle. "We don't have many in Roswell," he replied by way of an answer. Then he shook his head and said seriously, "Child Protection Services keeps an eye on him some, but I also feel that it is my job, as the Sheriff of this town, to keep an eye on him, and anyone else who might be or get into trouble, as well."

Ms. Topolski nodded as she accepted all the information the Sheriff had given her. It was not exactly what she wanted, and she knew she would have been able to demand Michael's files, and all the 'specifics' she wanted, if she had shown her FBI badge. But that would put the Sheriff on alert, and Ms. Topolski didn't want to do that. Better not risk having anyone suspect her yet. Besides, who knew whether or not he would mention her being an agent to anyone? She couldn't risk that getting back to any of the suspects, and Roswell was a small enough town that a little gossip would go a long way. With Drake, she had been fairly certain that he wouldn't tell anyone, partially because he was a doctor and understood privacy laws, and partially because he wasn't connected to this extraterrestrial web in any way that she knew of. But Valenti was, through Tess and his relationship with Amy DeLuca, and that was of concern.

No, she decided at last, better not to reveal anything yet.

"Thank you for your time, Sheriff Valenti. You have been very helpful," she said, standing. She shook hands with the Sheriff and left the room, still deep in thought. The more details she got, the more detailed her picture of Michael's background became, and the less she liked it. He may have supernatural powers, he may be a threat to society, but he was also a victim as well, and it made it difficult to regard him objectively.

She thought back to what Valenti had said about Hank not being such a bad foster father, and wondered if that was true. Michael may have simply been good at hiding what went on within the walls of his home, and really, who would look so closely? It might be a small town, but her experience was that even small towns had their skeletons.

Roswell more so than some.

In the room behind her, Valenti stared at the closed door and felt the same strange feeling grow within him. For some reason, something was telling him that he had been looking into Michael's past before, that he had been interested in the boy, but he just couldn't remember why.

He pushed the thought away and turned back to his work, but the feeling remained, the questions continuing to linger in his subconscious.

"Maria…" The words were so faint that Maria had to bend over her mother's form to here them. Something inside her did somersaults at the sound of her name, however. Her mother was awake, and, miraculously, also knew who she was. It had been a concern on the part of Dr. Drake and the nurses, whether or not Amy had sustained any serious brain damage.

"You're awake," Maria breathed, and then realized how stupid of a comment that was. Of course Amy knew she was awake, she didn't need anyone to point it out to her.

Amy gave a slight chuckle and murmured, "Yeah… what happened?"

Maria bit her lip, wondering what to say to that, when the door behind her swung open and Drake hurried into the room, a wide smile on his face.

"Ms. DeLuca, you are awake," he said, unknowingly repeating Maria's earlier comment.

"So I hear," Amy quipped.

Drake's smile grew at that. "My name is Justin Drake, and I am the doctor who has been taking care of you," he introduced himself.

"Oh… nice to meet you," Amy murmured quietly.

"Ms. DeLuca," Drake addressed Maria briefly, "I need to examine your mother now that she is awake. Do you mind waiting outside?"

"But…" Maria didn't want to leave the room, not now that her mother was finally conscious.

As though sensing her daughter's thoughts, Amy whispered, "I don't mind… if she… stays." Her words were halting, which seemed to concern Drake for a moment, but then he gave another smile and a nod.

"Alright," he agreed. Leaning over Amy, he asked, "Can you tell me your name?"

"Amy DeLuca," Amy replied.

"Good, good. And do you remember what happened?" Drake asked as he carefully shined a light into one of her eyes and watched as her pupil shrunk. He switched the light to the other eye, and waited for Amy to answer.

"Car ac-accident," Amy said, again stumbling over the words. "A truck, and then flames and… I don't remember after that."

Drake nodded and replied, "That's all I would expect you to remember, you were knocked unconscious fairly quickly. I'm going to check your nerves now, alright? Tell me if you can feel this." He pressed his hand on her shoulder, and she nodded. Moving his hand to her stomach, and then to her hips, and down her legs. She nodded each time he pressed down, and he smiled.

"Well, it would appear that you do not have any nerve damage. And you aren't paralyzed, although you may to go through some physical therapy because of some damage to your muscles," Drake said, pleased. "All in all, Ms. DeLuca, this is very good news."

Amy managed a smile, and turned to look at Maria, who was grinning at her in evident relief.

"Oh, thank God," Maria breathed.

"I would like to run a CT Scan soon, and do a few other tests," Drake continued, "but I am confident that you will not have any permanent injuries. The road to recovery will take some time, and you may be in the hospital for a while, but the outlook is very good." He gave Amy a sincere smile. "You are very lucky, Ms. DeLuca."

"Thank you," Amy replied. "For everything."

Drake gave her a brief nod. "Of course," he rejoined. "Now, I have to take care of a few details before ordering your tests, and I have no doubt that you would like to spend some time along with your daughter, so I will be back in fifteen or twenty minutes. There is a nurse outside, and if you need me, you can have her page me. Do you have any questions before I leave?"

Amy shook her head. "No, I don't."

"Well, if you think up any, I will be more than happy to help you," he said before turning and leaving the room.

"How long…?" Amy asked, turning her head slightly to look at Maria now that Drake was gone.

Maria swallowed. "A little while," she said, not wanting to answer the question. But Amy raised one eyebrow, giving her daughter a look that demanded more specifics, and Maria elaborated hesitantly, "A week."

"Oh, sweetheart," Amy breathed, realizing suddenly that her daughter had been alone for that week.

"I was so scared, Mom," Maria whispered, blinking back the tears that started to form. She drew a shaky breath and continued, "We didn't know if you were going to be okay… and I was so…"

Amy didn't say anything for a moment, trying to comprehend what she had just discovered. The accident seemed like yesterday, had it really been a full week? She had missed an entire week?

"Where you by yo-yourself?" Amy asked finally.

Maria hesitated, unsure whether or not to tell her mother that Sean was here. "No…" she admitted reluctantly. "I… well, the thing is… you see…"

Amy closed her eyes. She didn't need Maria to finish the sentence to know what her daughter was trying to say. Right before she had blacked out, her thoughts had gone to Maria, and what would happen to her daughter if she died. And the last thing she could remember thinking was that, since she hadn't divorced Sean, Maria would probably be sent to him.

And since she hadn't divorced Sean, since he was her next closest of kin, and since Maria was a minor, he would have been called when she ended up in the hospital.

"Your father is here, isn't he?" Amy asked, opening her eyes.

Maria's eyes widened slightly as a surprised expression flickered onto her face, and then she nodded. "Yes," she said simply. "He is."

"So… you know about the divorce?" Amy asked.

"You mean that it never happened?" Maria questioned, and Amy nodded slowly. Maria bit her lip for a moment, then said, "It's not important right now, Mom. You're awake, and that is what matters. We can talk about this later."

"Sean hasn't tol-d you an-ything about us?" Amy asked, her words breaking again.

Maria frowned at her mother's speech problem, but, like Drake, did not comment on it. "No, he didn't," she answered. "I… haven't really talked to him that much," she admitted slowly.

Amy nodded, then winced as the movement caused pain to run through her neck. Making a mental note not to do that again, she said, "We can talk about it whenever you want." She had hidden this truth from Maria for years, convincing herself that it didn't matter. And it really didn't. At least, it wouldn't have if she hadn't been in the car accident. It would have never affected Maria, but fate had a funny way of stepping in and changing things.

"Later," Maria said firmly. "We can talk about it later." She wanted the answers. She wanted to know them so desperately. She had grown up without a father, and she wanted to know why. Why had he left? Why had Amy let him leave, but still stayed in touch with him? Why hadn't they been divorced? Why?

But those questions could wait, and they would have to, because Maria didn't want to think about them right now.

Her mother was awake, and that was all that mattered.

Next Chapter: The Tangled Webs We Weave

Due: Sun 7/2