Title: This Brilliant Dance
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Author's note: So, I just wanted to make sure that everyone knew that at my previous update last week, I posted two chapters. It occurred to me at some point that people may not realize that both Where My Loyalties Lie and Backtrack were new. This week there is only one chapter, but if you didn't read both chapters from last week, you might want to do that.
Chapter Forty-Nine: Issues of Legality
"Dad's been at the hospital for a few hours," Isabel remarked worriedly, glancing at the clock on the wall. "What do you think is taking so long?"
Max shrugged. "They have a lot to talk about," he reasoned, attempting to disguise his own worry.
"Have you spoken to Tess?" Isabel asked, shifting her gaze to Max.
"Yes, she's coming over now. We'll do the mind-warp and fix Hank's brain as soon as she gets here."
Isabel nodded. She wanted to ask if Max had spoken to Liz since the brunette had left the house a few hours ago, but didn't know how to bring up the subject. Obviously, Max was still upset about the argument, and this was not a good time to make anyone any more upset than they needed to be.
Still, she wondered if he was going to be able to work out that particular relationship before it crumbled.
Tess paused at the end of the park, glancing over her shoulder at the bench halfway down the block. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she stared at the girl sitting their. Even from the distance, she could see that something was wrong; Liz was hunched over, resting her head in her hands, pieces of dark brown hair falling between her fingers.
The blonde alien hesitated for a moment. Part of her wanted to ignore Liz's obvious pain and turn away. She was far enough away at this point that Liz hadn't seen her, didn't even know she was there, so why would she voluntarily go and bring notice to herself? Who care what Liz's problems were anyway?
But the other part of her was arguing against that. As Max had pointed out several times, Liz was in the group, and whatever happened to them would ultimately affect her. So, by the same logic, whatever happened to Liz would ultimately affect them, and Tess really didn't want to be caught unawares by more trouble.
After a brief and bitter debate, she shoved her reluctance away and walked briskly towards Liz.
Liz looked up at the sound of heels echoing on the cement and frowned as Tess appeared in front of her. "What's wrong?" she asked instantly. This was Tess, after all, and the girl would never have approached Liz if something wasn't the matter.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," Tess replied with a raised eyebrow.
Liz gaped. Was Tess actually showing some concern for her?
"Did something happen that would affect the rest of us?" Tess pressed.
Liz sighed and shook her head, berating herself for being stupid enough to think Tess would ever actually care about non-alien related problems.
"I'm fine," Liz replied, her shaking voice betraying the lie.
Tess frowned at Liz, then asked slowly, "Did anyone tell you what happened last night?"
"You mean with Michael?" Liz asked curiously. "Yeah… Maria told me."
Tess folded her arms over her chest as she heard the bitterness in Liz's words. Obviously, the brunette human had hoped to hear from Max. Well, really, Max had a few other things on his mind at the moment, and Liz should have been more understanding of that. It isn't every day that you almost lose your best friend, first to a drunken foster-father and then to the police.
"Max has been busy," Tess said icily. She ran a hand through her hair and bit her lip, before continuing, "We are in a lot of danger right now."
"I know," Liz said wearily.
"No," Tess contradicted her harshly, "you don't know." Liz opened her mouth to argue, but Tess continued quickly, preventing Liz from speaking. "You think you understand what the danger is like, but you don't. You couldn't possibly realize how high the stakes are for us."
"Why do you think that?" Liz demanded. "Why do you always insist that I can't understand what you are going through? How scared you are? How dangerous this is?"
"Because if you truly understood, you wouldn't be sitting here feeling sorry for yourself and angry that Max didn't call you right away," Tess replied firmly. "If you truly understood, you would forgive Max for whatever he's done because you would realize just how much of our lives are going to be determined in the next few hours."
Without another word, Tess turned and walked away.
Liz stared after her for a moment, then shook her head and sighed. In Tess' view of the world, things seemed so much simpler. Whatever was done for the sake of protecting the aliens was the right thing to do, and everything else, including relationships, were only secondary. Unfortunately, nothing was ever that black and white, and while Liz fully understood that Max was under a lot of stress right now, it didn't mean she was willing to automatically forgive him for pushing her away like that.
The sound of knocking caused Maria to get up and walk over to the front door. She opened it, not particularly caring who was there, but then stopped in surprise and blinked at the visitor.
"Sean."
"Hi," Sean replied quietly. "Can I come in?"
Maria sighed and stepped aside, allowing her mother's husband to enter. She really didn't want visitors right now, but she was also too tired to protest his presence.
"Can we talk?" Sean continued, gesturing towards the sofa. Maria complied with the request and took a seat at the far end of the sofa, pulling her knees into her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. Sean sat down across from her and looked around the living room for a moment, before continuing:I wanted to talk about your mother."
"What about her?" Maria asked warily, knowing perfectly well were the conversation was going and not wanting to participate in it.
Sean sighed and looked down at the floor. This was going to be harder than he thought. So far he had managed to stay close to the Royal Four and their human friends without causing any suspicion. Although killing the doctor might have been a bit too bold of a move, it was a necessary one. And soon he might have to add the guidance counselor to the list. Still, despite that, he had managed to stay beneath the radar fairly well.
The next stage in his plan, however, would not be as simple, and he needed to be careful. He needed to know that Maria trusted him, because if he could win her trust, no one else from the group would question him.
"She's upset that you keep avoiding her," Sean said delicately. He watched at a slight flush raced up Maria's face, suffusing her skin. She blinked back tears and looked away, and Sean continued gently, "She loves you very much."
"Did she send you here to tell you that?" Maria asked bitterly. It would be just like her mother to do something like that.
"No," Sean replied. "She didn't. I came on my own."
"You didn't have to do that," Maria said quietly. "I'm not your daughter, you don't owe me anything."
"You always thought I was your father," Sean pointed out quietly. "And when your mother and I first separated, when I thought there was a chance that we could get back together, I always thought of you as my daughter. I know… I know I'm not biologically related to you, and if your mother and I get divorced, I won't even be legally related to you, but… if you want… you can still think of me as your father."
Maria felt a burning sensation grow behind her eyelids. She was not a particularly sentimental person, but the hesitancy and nervousness in Sean's voice, the hopeful look in his eyes, touched her. she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat and asked, "Why didn't you ever divorce my mother? Why did you… why did you hold on to this hope that she would come back to you even after all these years?"
"I loved her," Sean replied wistfully. Internally, he was quite thankful that he had eavesdropped on conversations between Amy and Maria. Otherwise he probably would have had no idea how to answer that question and still remain true to what Amy had told Maria. "That year we were together… we were so… so in love." He gave Maria a soft smile. "Wait until you fall in love for the first time. Wait until you experience what we experienced. Then you'll understand. That kind of love… you don't let of it. Not if you can help it."
Maria thought of Michael, and nodded slowly.
"Your mother is an amazing woman," Sean continued.
"Did you guys stay in touch after you split up?" Maria asked, curiously.
"Some," Sean replied. "Not that first year, she didn't want… she wanted space, and I understood. But after that… Your mother would send me Christmas cards." He leaned back in the chair and thought about all the Christmas cards he had seen adorning the real Sean's study the night he had killed him. He closed his eyes for a moment, picturing those cards, calling up specific memories of each of the cards that had been signed by Amy DeLuca. "One year she sent me a card with reindeer on it, and another time she sent me these singing snowmen." He reflected to himself that it was really quite a good thing that he was able to remember those cards. One of the powers… no, wait, the Royal Four always referred to them as gifts… of being a shape-shifter was a remarkable memory.
"She sent you cards?" Maria asked, surprised and enthralled. Here was a side of her mother she had never known anything about.
Sean nodded. "Yes. We sent e-mails to each other sometimes as well. And letters. We… I guess we were like pen pals." His face hardened slightly, and he continued, "But then, this past year, I haven't heard from her as much."
"She started dating the Sheriff," Maria murmured, and Sean nodded in agreement.
"I guess she finally decided to move on," Sean replied.
"Why? If she still loved you and you still loved her…?"
Sean paused, appearing to contemplate the question. At last, he gave a slight shrug. "Sixteen years is a long time, Maria," he replied with a smile. "We had both changed, and maybe… maybe it was time to move on. Maybe I don't love the person your mother is now, maybe I love the person she was sixteen years ago. Maybe the same is true for her. I don't know why she decided to move on, I just… I think it's just because we've changed."
"You stayed in touch for all those years only to lose her in the end…" Maria whispered thoughtfully, more to herself than to Sean.
"I think I'd already lost her. I think, after your… conception… we were already over then," Sean replied. "It was just hard to let go."
Again, Maria thought of Michael. "How do you know when it is time to let go?" she asked curiously.
"You don't," Sean replied honestly. "At least… at least you don't always know. Sometimes you can't even recognize what the end looks like because you never saw it coming." Sean gave her an unnaturally shrewd look. "Are you thinking about Michael?" he asked with a sly smile.
Maria started. "How do you know about me and Michael?" she demanded.
Sean chuckled lightly. "Maria, anyone who sees the two of you interact knows about you and Michael."
Maria wanted to argue that, but decided against it. Instead, she asked, "Do you think Michael and I… do you think we'd be… good together?"
"I don't know," Sean replied honestly. "You never really can tell. Sometimes you just have to jump in. If you think the risk is worth it, that is."
"Was it with Mom?" Maria questioned. "Was everything you went through these past sixteen years worth it?"
"Yes," Sean replied without hesitation. "Yes, it was."
"But, if I hadn't… I mean, if Mom wasn't… raped… then you two might still be together. And you would have children of your own, and a life of your own, and you would be… happy."
Sean stared at Maria for a long time, then reached out and placed a hand on her knee. "Yes," he said solemnly. "If your mother hadn't been raped, we would still be together. And we would have children of our own."
Maria blinked away the tears, lifting one hand to her eyes to catch the few drops of saltwater that escaped.
"But your mother loves you. She loves you more than anything else in the world. And I know that if she had to chose between a perfect life with me, and this difficult and painful life with you, she would chose you in a heartbeat. I know she would," Sean continued, his voice filled with emotion.
"I wish I believed that," Maria whispered.
Sean smiled. "I know. And I know that nothing I say is going to make it any easier for you to accept." He looked away for a moment, letting his hand drop from her knee. "There are so many things that the two of us screwed up. So many things I would like to do over if I had the chance. But you… you aren't one of those screw-ups. Not to me, and not to your Mom."
"You talk about it like I am your daughter," Maria commented.
"You don't have to be if you don't want to, but… if you want a father… or a father-figure… of just an old man to be friends with… I'd be honored to have you as my daughter," Sean replied. Maria bit her lip and looked down at her knees, and Sean, sensing that she would want to be alone now, stood quickly and said, "I guess I've probably overstayed my welcome. I just wanted to tell you that your mother is worried about you. She loves you and she doesn't want you to feel like you have to avoid her."
"I can't help it," Maria countered. "So much has happened, I can't go back to the way things were before. I can't just pretend like I don't know about my real father."
"No, you can't," Sean agreed. "But you don't have to go back to the way things were. You don't have to go back at all. Your mother will always be your mother, and she will always be a part of your life, no matter how things change. So if you can't go back… maybe you should just focus on going forward."
And then he turned and let himself out of the house.
"So, let's go through this one more time," Mr. Evans said tiredly, rubbing the back of his head absently as he stared at the notes he had jotted down on his legal pad. "You came home from the dance, and Hank was in such a foul mood that you were afraid for your life."
Michael nodded slowly, staring at Mr. Evans as the lawyer recapped their previous conversation. "Yes, that's right," he agreed.
Mr. Evans continued, "He was drunk, and screaming, and he said something about how the Social Services had threatened to take you away from him. He thought you had gone to talk to them."
Michael gave a snort of disgust and replied, "Yeah, that's what he said. Don't know why he thought that, though."
Mr. Evans winced slightly. Of course, he knew exactly why Hank had though that Michael had spoken to Child Protection Services. Mr. Collins had obviously gone to speak to Hank after bringing his complaints to the Sheriff's office. It was an incredibly stupid move on his part, hadn't he realized that it could put Michael in danger? Or perhaps he had just been too focused on trying to remove Michael from the potentially dangerous situation that he was in, that he didn't realize a confrontation with Hank might only make matters worse.
Mr. Evans sighed and pushed away those thoughts. The situation had not been handled well in the past, but here was a chance to remedy that. He needed to focus on the future, on what he could do to best help Michael now.
"So… Mr. Guerin was shouting at you, threatening you… and Max and Isabel?" Mr. Evans pressed, swallowing nervously. His throat was suddenly very dry, and he looked up quickly to meet Michael's eyes.
"Yes," Michael replied. He wasn't looking at Mr. Evans, but instead looking down at the bed he was lying on. An few tubes snaked along the side of the bed, one of them connecting to his finger to measure his heartbeat, the other ending with an IV needle stuck into the crook of his elbow. When he had finally returned to the hospital, the nurses had been more than a little displeased about his sudden disappearance. They had wanted to run more tests, but he had firmly put his foot down on that one, knowing that it would only put him in more danger. They had finally agreed and sent him back to his room after he had promised not to leave again. He wondered idly if they had the room on surveillance now. Was he considered a flight risk?
"Did he say why he wanted to… to hurt Max and Isabel?" Mr. Evans asked. It was hard to say the words, to realize that his children could have been in danger from this man. Part of him knew that Michael had crossed a line when he had injured Hank so badly, but the other part… the other part was sorry that Michael hadn't just flat out killed Hank. No one threatened Mr. Evans children and got away with it.
On the other hand, even as he thought those thoughts, he realized the unfairness of the situation to Michael. Max and Isabel had two parents who would do anything to keep them safe, and Michael had nothing. Here he was, forced to defend himself and his friends, and then being forced to worry about punishment for his actions.
"He knew we were friends," Michael replied. He sighed and leaned back in the bed, finally lifting his eyes towards Mr. Evans. "I guess he thought maybe they had spoken to Child Protection Services as well. I don't know his reasoning. I just… I just knew I didn't want him to hurt them. I knew I needed to stop him from hurting them."
"So he tried to hit you, and you pushed him away from you and into the wall?" Mr. Evans prompted.
Michael nodded. "Yes. He was drunk, so he didn't… he didn't stop. He kept coming at me, but I… I guess I just got… carried away."
"You threw him through a plaster wall," Mr. Evans replied dryly. "Most judges will consider that a little more than carried away."
"He kept saying he'd hurt Max and Isabel," Michael replied with a shrug. "They're the only friends I've got, the only ones I've ever had. They're… like family. I couldn't let them hurt him." He said it simply, as though it was the obvious conclusion. His friends were in danger and he had to protect them, what else would he have done?
"That's the angle we are going to take with the judge," Mr. Evans said at last. "Hank's a lot worse off than you are, and that isn't going to look good, no matter what. Not to mention your record. But if we can argue that you were acting in defense of yourself and your friends, and if we can show that Hank has always had a violent tendency, and his threats are things to take serious, we have a shot at convincing a judge to…"
"To what?" Michael asked bitterly. "To send me to another foster home outside of Roswell? To separate me from everyone?" He shook his head and growled, "I shouldn't have come back."
"You did the right thing," Mr. Evans said slowly.
Michael shrugged noncommittally. "I guess," he replied, his tone clearly betraying his doubt.
"The judge is going to want to know why you left the hospital, and why you came back," Mr. Evans said, changing the subject.
"I left because I wanted to leave town," Michael said.
"And when you left, you ran into Maria?" Mr. Evans replied, glancing down at his notes again. "She was here visiting her mother, and you ran into her in the parking lot."
"Yes."
"And then you talked for a few minutes, before leaving. She tried to stop you, but you didn't listen to her. You went to our house, and…" Mr. Evans stopped, suddenly unsure. He didn't want to bring up what his son had done, but he could tell by the darkening of Michael's eyes that Max's role in all of this was not going to be forgotten any time soon.
"And I talked to you," Michael cut in before the silence grew too awkward. "Isabel convinced me to stay, so I went back to the hospital."
"And you weren't anywhere else at all between the time you left our house and when you returned to the hospital?" Mr. Evans asked. According to the nurses, there was a significant time gap between when Michael had left a sobbing Isabel and when he had shown up at the hospital. Where had he been for that time?
Michael thought about Maria for a moment, then shook his head. "Not really. I wandered around for a bit, but I didn't go anywhere specific."
Mr. Evans frowned slightly. He had spent several years working as a lawyer, he had a good sense for when his client was lying to him. And he was almost positive that Michael was still holding something back. But he didn't know how to press the issue without losing Michael's trust, and he couldn't afford to do that right now.
"So… what's going to happen to me?" Michael asked.
Mr. Evans sighed. "Have you ever considered applying for emancipation?"
Agent Pierce packed up the last of the doctor's belongings and looked around the bedroom. It was a large bedroom, with a bed, two dressers, a vanity, a small bedside table, and an overstuffed armchair. A small, blue porcelain bed lamp rested on the bedside table. The wall opposite the bed held a picture of the doctor and his wife, and two pictures of small, cheerfully smiling girls, sat on either side of the vanity.
Dr. Drake's family.
It was eight in the morning, and Dr. Drake's wife had already left. A few minutes of research into her past and two phone calls to sources at the FBI had determined that she was housewife, and it was a well known habit of hers to go to the gym every morning. Pierce had waited outside her house until she drove away, and then he had easily slipped inside, unnoticed in the early morning.
The two daughters were still asleep. One was eleven, the other thirteen, and apparently their mother had no qualms about leaving them alone in the morning.
Careful not to wake them, Pierce had started systematically packing everything that belonged to Drake, throwing it into suitcases. He took every last article of clothing down to the doctor's underwear and socks, until there was nothing left in the bedroom.
Then he hauled the two suitcases out to his car, threw them into the trunk, and drove away.
Once he had turned the corner at the end of the block, he picked up his phone and dialed a number.
It would only take him a few moments on the internet to have money transferred from the Drake's joint bank account to another, secure location. He would leave a paper trail of motel receipts in Drake's name to make it look as though the doctor had skipped town, and had no intention of coming back. Mrs. Drake would see all this, and would believe that her husband had left her.
It was, of course, illegal, but that didn't bother Pierce. As far as he was concerned, anything done for the sake of protecting the country against these extraterrestrials was perfectly ethical, no matter what laws were broken.
National safety was the number one priority.
Tess took a seat on Max's bed and watched as Isabel flipped through a series of pictures in her photo album. She was looking for a picture of Hank that she could use to dream-walk. Max leaned over her shoulder, staring at all the pictures, a frustrated expression on his face, and Tess knew he was wondering what would happen between him and Michael in the future.
"Here…" Isabel pointed to a picture which showed Michael and Isabel sitting around the table at Hank's trailer. Hank was standing in the background, glaring at the two teenagers. The picture had been taken by Max a few years ago, when they were all in eighth grade.
"So, you'll take Tess and I in, and I'll see if I can repair any damage to Hank's brain, and then keep him alive while Tess mind-warps him?" Max repeated the plan, glancing from the picture to Isabel and then to Tess.
"What exactly am I going to mind-warp him into thinking?" Tess asked. "We don't know what story Michael told your father."
"No, but Michael is smart enough to keep the story as close to the truth as possible," Max pointed out. "Just make sure that Hank doesn't remember that any of us have our extraterrestrial gifts, and erase the part of his memory where Michael attacks him," he instructed.
Tess nodded slowly. What they were attempting was something new, something none of them had ever done before. She wasn't sure if it would work, none of them were. All they could do was pray, because if it didn't work, nothing Mr. Evans did to help Michael would keep them out of danger.
Next Chapter: Independence Day
Due: Sun 11/5
