CHAPTER 9
Alex and Max looked at each other for a moment, and then Alex gestured for his friend to start talking. He wasn't sure he'd be able to hold on to his temper if he didn't concentrate on it, and to lose it twice in one night...Besides, he didn't want to have to make good on his threat of physical violence against the infuriatingly calm, yet incredibly strong, alien. For all his anger, he knew who would come out the worst in that battle.
Max swallowed and said, "Look, Michael, you have to know we've been worried about you. We wanted to find out what your problem was, and you haven't been exactly forthcoming, so tonight Isabel dreamwalked you."
There was no response from the alien on the couch.
"Anyway, we hoped that Maria would be able to help sort things out, so Isabel took her into the dream with her."
Still no response.
"And they found you, but we pulled them out of your dream before they could figure out what was going on. So they went in again, and this time, Maria..." his voice trailed off as he searched for a way to say what he had to.
Enough was enough. Tired of waiting for the axe to fall, Alex spoke up. "Maria disappeared. Literally. Vanished. Poof! Gone."
The still figure on the couch became even more motionless, if that was possible.
"So we need your help, Michael," said Max, hoping his friend would snap out of it and be the rash, impulsive, alive Michael he knew. "We've got to find out what happened to her and get her back."
When it came, the voice was barely loud enough to be heard. "I can't help you."
"You have to help!" Alex shouted. "This is Maria! You know, the girl who loves you? The girl you're in love with, for Pete's sake! Get over whatever problem it is you think you're having and give us some help. We cannot do this alone." He actually growled in exasperation before pulling Max over to the corner of the kitchen and whispering urgently, "Look, I don't think talking is going to convince him. Can you use your powers and show him what happened?"
Max shook his head. "To do that--to purposely force an image into his head without permission--it's no better than some of what Pierce did to me."
"Max, I'm begging you. What if it were Liz?" Max tensed and then nodded slowly.
"All right. But be on your toes. I'm not sure how he'll react."
"As long as he reacts somehow, I'll be happy," Alex murmured under his breath before following Max back over to the couch.
"Your five minutes are up, Max. Leave now," commanded the figure still sitting there.
"I'm sorry," said Max, apologizing in advance as he grabbed Michael's arm and attempted to make a connection. Alex watched with bated breath as Max struggled to get into Michael's head. Work, dammit. It has to work. Too much is at stake here.
Suddenly, Michael stiffened. After an interminable-seeming moment, he pulled away from Max, who let out a deep breath. Another long moment passed as Michael stared blankly at his friend. Then his face became alive--actually more animated than Alex had ever seen it--and he yelped, "Oh my god. Oh my god! Why did you show me that?" Almost catapulting himself from the couch, he blurted, "That was like, way too freaky. Oh my god. Oh my god," he kept repeating in a panic, stumbling across the room to the kitchen area. Digging in the pocket of the denim jacket that was tossed on the counter, he pulled out a small vial. Alex and Max watched, flabbergasted, as Michael pulled out the stopper of the tiny bottle of cedar oil and inhaled.
Alex swallowed. That was really not the reaction he had in mind...
Michael sat quietly, idly stroking Maria's hand. In her sleep, she'd snuggled up even closer to him. He was amazed that she could feel so relaxed near to him, after all the times he'd hurt her. Hell, the last had only been an hour or so ago. And yet, here she was, tucked into his arms like she was safe at home. He didn't get it.
Of course, that was only one of a lot of things he didn't get. He wasn't stupid, but somehow he had never seemed able to get to the deep-down answers about the way things worked, about why people were the way they were. Not that he didn't have questions--those he had plenty of. Half the time he was silent, it was because too many thoughts were rushing through his head for him to be able to articulate at once, so instead he would stand and gape like an idiot.
But of all the questions he had about the universe and his place in it, Maria was the biggest puzzle. He understood why he cared about her. Why he needed her. Why she was so precious that he couldn't let anything hurt her anymore, not even him. But he thought he would never, not in a million lifetimes or on a million worlds, understand why she would--how she could possibly--care for him. The fuckup. The alien. But she did. And for that, he would be eternally grateful. Even when he had to walk away from her.
Looking down at the girl asleep in his arms, he planted a soft kiss on the crown of her head. At least they could have this time together. Where she was safe, from him and from the problems caused by the very fact that he was who--and what--he was. He gave a little half smile, thankful that no one was there to see him in all his wussy splendor. He didn't like to show his well-hidden softer side to anyone. Not Max and Isabel. Not even Maria, although she'd somehow bored her way into his heart. Hey, he didn't even like to see it himself. It made him uncomfortable. But no one was there to see him right now, and Maria was asleep, so he allowed himself the all-too-human luxury of sitting for one brief moment at peace with a blond pixie in his arms.
She mumbled slightly in her sleep, and began to move restlessly. Was she having a nightmare? "Shhhh," he whispered softly. "It's okay. You're safe here." He stroked her hair, but she continued her restive movements. Beginning to get a little concerned, he studied her face carefully. It seemed paler than it had earlier, with little color in her cheeks and lips, and her brow was furrowed. Whatever was happening in her dream, it wasn't letting her get any much-needed rest. "Maria," he said a little more loudly, "Wake up. You're having a nightmare." She didn't rouse from her uneasy slumber. "Maria!" he repeated, shaking her gently. Still no response. What the hell was going on?
Isabel picked at the remnants of nail polish on her left thumb. She'd already scraped the polish from the rest of that hand, bit by bit. No matter what it was doing to her manicure. It was all she could do not to scream with impatience. When would Max and Alex get back? Or at least call? She looked over at Liz, who was sitting sideways on the desk chair that Alex had vacated so long ago. Liz's folded arms were draped across the chair's tall back, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on them. She seemed lost in thought, but looked up after a moment and gave Isabel a worried smile.
"It's been too long," complained Isabel. "They should have been back by now."
"It hasn't even been an hour," Liz pointed out, trying to keep calm in the face of the other girl's nervousness.
"I know," Isabel admitted. "I just can't stand this waiting. We should be doing something instead of just sitting here! Something. Anything!"
"Max and Alex will call or get back as soon as they can get through to Michael," said Liz calmly, inwardly hoping that she was right. Isabel settled back down on the floor, where she'd been leaning against her dresser. Neither one had wanted to sit on the bed. It was where they'd last seen Maria. The alien shivered a little, and then moved on to methodically destroying the manicure of her right hand.
She looked up as Liz hissed, "Isabel! Look!" Following Liz's gaze to the bed, Isabel blinked her eyes rapidly in disbelief. No. It wasn't possible. But it was. She could see Maria, lying in the same place she had been during their ill-fated dreamwalk. It was Maria. But she was only faintly there. Isabel could still see the pattern of her comforter right through the girl's form. The image flickered a few times, and then disappeared.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, somehow, Isabel found her voice and asked shakily, "Liz? Did you..."
"Yeah," Liz answered, in a voice just as shaky as Isabel's. "It was Maria. She was almost there for a moment, and then she disappeared. Again."
"Look, I...I could see right through her. Do you think she was a--" Isabel could barely bring herself to say the word. "Ghost?"
"No. I don't believe in ghosts," Liz said firmly, trying to convince herself. "Wherever Maria is, she's not dead. Believe that." Isabel nodded. "Do you think it could have been Tess?" Liz went on, hesitantly. "Making us see things that aren't there?"
"No. We've kept her out of everything that's happened. She doesn't know what's going on."
Liz looked again at the bed. It somehow seemed even emptier than it had a few minutes ago. "Did she look...different to you?" she asked hesitantly.
"Different?" questioned Isabel. "From the little I could see, she looked...well, kind of tired. Worn out."
"I think it's more than that. She looked sick, Isabel."
Looking Liz in the eye, Isabel commanded, "Call them. Now."
Until the phone rang, Alex felt frozen to the floor. This was getting weird. Weird upon weird. He knew Michael hadn't been acting like himself for the last few weeks, but he wasn't diametrically different from the Michael Alex thought he knew. He was just more closed off than ever. Not like now, when he was acting more like...Well, like...Alex didn't want to even think the thought. The ringing of Isabel's cell phone snapped him out of his reverie.
Michael was still standing in the kitchen with his cedar oil, babbling animatedly away, as Alex turned the phone on and said, "Hello?"
"It's Liz," he heard. "You guys need to get back here right now. Things are getting stranger and stranger."
"Tell me about it," he responded. "Okay. We'll be there in fifteen minutes. And we're bringing Michael."
"Michael? You talked to him? He agreed to help?"
Alex eyed the alien, who was waving his arms around as he talked to Max. "Well, he's...he...ummm, yeah. You know, you wouldn't believe it if I told you. We'll be there soon."
Alex sighed as he and Max approached Max's bedroom window, Michael in tow. They'd been able to pull the frantically jabbering alien out of his apartment with no trouble, and had made good time on their way back to the Evanses' house. He had been relieved when Michael had abruptly stopped talking, a set look coming over his face. He was back to being Stony Michael, but he still allowed himself to be towed along in their wake. At least he was quiet. There was no sound in the early morning except the slap of their sneakers and Michael's boots hitting the pavement as they ran swiftly across town.
Putting up a hand in caution, Max used his powers to open the window and then climbed stealthily into his room. Alex looked at Michael and, when the alien made no move toward the window, took him by the shoulders and pushed him over to the open casement. Michael paused for a moment, and then climbed deliberately in, as he'd done a million times before. Alex followed, less gracefully.
In the dark, Max crept to the door and slowly opened it, peering into the dim hallway. No sign of parental life; the coast was clear. He led the others to Isabel's door, opened it and gestured for them to precede him into his sister's room. Startled at their entrance, the two girls jerked around in mid-conversation before Isabel rushed agitatedly towards her brother. From the chair, Liz looked worriedly at Alex. Michael stood, silent, by the doorway.
Shutting the door, Max took Isabel by the shoulders. "What is it, Izzy?" he asked gently, concerned at the look of shock and confusion in her eyes. Liz didn't look much better. "What happened?"
"Maria," Isabel responded. "She came back. She was here, and then she wasn't again. We could see right through her."
"What?" asked Alex sharply.
Liz nodded in confirmation, and added, "She appeared on the bed, but she was transparent. She was only there for a moment, and then she disappeared again, before we had a chance to do anything. She looked sick. There's something very wrong here. Other than invisible friends disappearing and appearing."
Alex didn't know what to say. How could things keep getting more bizarre? He felt as if all six of them had fallen down the rabbit hole, only there were no magic 'Drink Me' potions or Cheshire cats to lead them through this mess. Wordlessly, he looked from Liz to Max, and then over to Michael, who stood motionlessly staring at the floor, not seeming to hear the discussion going on around him. Ah, yes. That Michael was definitely back. For a moment, Alex actually felt relieved, until he suddenly noticed how tightly the alien's fist was clenched, white-knuckled.
Liz, following Alex's gaze, walked slowly to Michael and quietly said his name. She took his hand and gently uncurled his stiffened fingers, and found within them the small item he'd been clutching so tightly. It was a vial of cedar oil. Maria's favorite. Her heart suddenly ached for the taciturn alien, and she gently wrapped his fingers back around the small bottle. "Thank you for coming, Michael," she said, squeezing his hand. "It means a lot. And it will mean a lot to Maria."
He looked up at the sound of that name, and, pulling his hand from hers, cradled the tiny vial in his hands. She stared, disbelieving, as the stony set of his face began to crack. His jaw clenched and his muscles convulsed, and for a moment she could have sworn his eyes actually began to lighten in color. His chin lifted, and he began to whisper, "Oh my god. Oh my god, Lizzy." His face crumpled as he stood there, overwrought. The hair rose on the back of Liz's neck.
Alex flinched. Okay, they were going back to Hysterical Michael. Christ, he needed a scoreboard to keep track. He looked over at Isabel, who was numb with shock, then over to Max, who had a determined look on his face.
"Michael," the dark-haired alien said, stepping towards his distraught friend.
Said friend darted around Liz, placing her squarely in front of him. "Oh, no. No. N..no," he stammered, "You are so not going to do that again." He shivered apprehensively, but managed to hold his ground. Barely. Alex was suddenly reminded of a rat in a cage full of vipers.
"God, Max, what did you do to him?" exclaimed Isabel.
Max flushed, and admitted, "I connected with him and made him see what happened to Maria. He went...crazy, just like that."
"You made him? Max--"
"I know, Iz, but he had to see. We need his help if we're going to figure out how to get Maria back."
Liz looked sympathetically at Max before turning to the upset male behind her. Michael first, then Maria. "Michael, it's okay. I won't let him do it again. You'll be all right," she soothed as he fumbled with the cap of the cedar oil. "Let me help you with that, okay?"
He nodded and stood passively as she opened the oil without removing it from his hand; then he took a shuddering breath of it and began to calm down. She watched in concern as the animation slowly faded from his face. Unemotional once more, he gazed, mildly perplexed, at the cedar oil in his hand, then looked at Liz. She took it from him and replaced the lid, then offered it back to him. He raised one eyebrow at her, but accepted the oil and tucked it securely in his jacket pocket before turning and staring fixedly at the wall across from him.
"What on earth is going on?" asked Isabel, who couldn't tear her eyes away from Michael and his deranged behavior. She swallowed convulsively. "One minute he's totally impassive, and the next he's acting like...Like..."
"Like Maria on speed?" Alex piped up. The others, except Michael, eyed him oddly. "Not that she's ever done...Aromatherapy oils, yes, but..." he stumbled before dropping the lame joke and moving on. "I don't know what's going on. He keeps switching back and forth from ice-cold, emotionless Michael to hysterical, panicky Michael."
"And this all started when--"
"When I forced the vision on him," Max said in remorse.
"Hey, it was my idea," Alex put in stoutly. "Don't blame yourself. Let's just concentrate on what to do next." Isabel nodded.
Liz spoke up. "I think we should ask Michael. Instead of just talking about him." Three pairs of eyes jumped to hers. The fourth remained focused on the wall across the room. "Michael?" she asked. "Do you know what just happened to you?"
"What?" There was no curiosity in his voice.
"You just got really upset. Do you know why?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You were kind of freaking out, and sniffing some of Maria's oil calmed you down." He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Michael, I promise you it's true. Believe me. Please believe me. We need your help. Maria is missing, please help us find her."
His voice was low. "What do you want me to do?"
"You've always been the best at seeing visions of things." Did she imagine an involuntary flinch before his face became passive once more? No, she couldn't worry about that now. "Will you see if you can get a vision of Maria? Where she is? Anything that will help us find her?"
Michael looked at her for a moment, and then nodded once, curtly. "Where?"
Isabel made a move to speak but cut off as Liz shook her head. Gazing steadily at Michael, she led him to the bed, saying, "This is where we saw her last, before she...before she went into your dream."
He continued to watch her with dull eyes, as if to avoid looking at the bed; then an expression of resignation came over his face and he turned towards it. The four watchers held their breath as he slowly put out one hand to touch the comforter. For a moment, nothing happened, and then without warning Michael arched backwards, his face contorted in a rictus of pain, before falling heavily to the floor. As Liz began to move towards him, he curled up in a tight ball and wrapped his arms around his head. In a toneless voice, he began to whisper, "get her out of my head get her out of my head get her out of my head..."
In the harsh light of the round room, Michael sat upright as an agonizing pain cut sharply through his skull, making him gasp in surprise. His arm involuntarily tightened around Maria, but the feeling quickly dissipated and he forced himself to relax. Gently laying Maria down, he crawled a few steps away from her. What the hell had that been?
He shook his head dizzily. He'd been sitting, anxiously watching her as she slept uneasily. Although he had kept trying, he hadn't been able to wake her, and so had been forced to sit and watch her suffer. He felt helpless. And now--
The pain attacked again, so intensely that he almost blacked out before it passed. Breathing heavily, he forced himself to his feet and took a few steps, but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped. And he felt the walls closing in as it struck for the third time, knocking him off his feet. Maria. He had to get to Maria. Maria...
TBC...