CHAPTER 22

Surprisingly, the group began to follow Maria's commands. Well, except for Michael. Reaching out an arm, he snagged Max, who was on his way to the family room to turn off the TV.

"Wait a minute," he said in a low tone, "I need to talk to you."

Maria eyed him suspiciously, then tossed her head and said, "Fine. You two boys talk. I'll just go remind Isabel to put plenty of Tabasco in the warm milk." With a flounce, she left Isabel's room to the two aliens.

"What is it, Michael?" Max asked.

"Two things," Michael said, his face impassive though his voice was strained. "You gotta promise me you'll keep an eye on Maria when I'm out. Alex can help, but he won't be much use when they're dreamwalking."

Max looked at him speculatively. "Maria wasn't kidding about you stalking her, was she? What's going on?"

"I don't have time for explanations. She'll be back in a minute. Get her through this safely and we'll talk."

Studying the carefully controlled face in front of him, Max was troubled to observe a hint of desperation in the dark eyes. Michael, who had always shied away from asking help from anyone, was asking for his. He couldn't refuse. "I'll watch out for her. But when this is over we are due for a serious talk." Michael ducked his head once in acquiescence. Max went on, "What was the other thing?"

Michael swallowed. "I'm not sure I can do this, and I have to. Do you...do you think you could use your powers to put me under?"

"I don't know," Max answered. "I've never tried anything like that before. But if I can make the right kind of connection, who knows? It just might work."

"It better work," said Michael gloomily, "because otherwise you really are gonna have to deck me. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

Max hid his chuckle with a fake cough and looked away, pretending he had to consider Michael's request. When he had regained his composure, he looked back and said calmly, "I can try."

"Then let's do it," Michael said, moving decisively out the door and down the hall to Max's room. Liz was inside, performing her Maria-assigned duty and plumping Max's pillow to its fullest extent. She moved back in surprise as Michael unceremoniously grabbed the pillow from her hands and tossed it on the bed, throwing himself down after it with a plop. "Do it," he said.

Max looked at Liz, who was standing curiously by the dresser. "Liz, could you give us a minute?" he began.

Michael interrupted impatiently. "She doesn't bother me. Let's get on with it."

"What are you going to do, Max?" asked Liz in concern.

"Put him to sleep," he answered. "If I can. I've never tried it before."

"Is it safe?" she countered.

From the bed, Michael spoke up. "It's a lot safer than whatever Maria's got in mind. So hurry it up, before she gets back."

Max stepped closer to the bed and bent to place his hand on Michael's forehead. Closing his eyes, he focused on the being in front of him. It was Michael and it wasn't; Max could sense that some part of him wasn't there. For a moment he deeply missed his rash, unpredictable friend; then he pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on the matter at hand.

Through the connection, he could feel Michael's bone-weariness and the determination with which his body fought it off, and was astounded at what Michael was purposely putting himself through. He didn't understand why he had deprived himself of necessary sleep, but he knew the reason had to be extremely important to the intractable alien. Sensing that Michael was almost to the last reserves of his strength, Max became even more determined to give him some much-needed rest. Even if the dreamwalk didn't work, at least he would get a respite from whatever was driving him. Concentrating, Max tried to send a sense of peace and well-being through the connection, to convince Michael that it was okay to let go for the time being. To relax. To rest peacefully, just for a little while...

A sound from the doorway behind him pulled him out of his trance, and he looked down to see Michael lying still and breathing deeply. Success. Liz smiled warmly at him before turning to the trio who stood watching from the doorway. Signaling them to be quiet, Max motioned for them to precede him into Isabel's room.

Maria held back a few steps, waiting until they'd stepped inside, then moved soundlessly into Max's room. She smiled as she took in Michael's sleeping form. His face looked unfamiliar for a moment before she realized that in repose he had lost the icy look he'd been wearing for weeks. Picking up the discarded quilt, she once more covered him with it. "Told you I'd tuck you back in," she whispered. He didn't so much as move.

Heading into Isabel's room, she held her head high, unashamed of her lapse into sentimentality. Isabel smiled, but didn't comment. Max, however, had a worried look on his face.

"What?" she said.

"He asked me if I'd put him under," Max said, uncertain of her response. "He wasn't really ready for the DeLuca method."

"So?" She looked at him for a moment, puzzled, then realized. "God, Max," she said with a ladylike snort. "I'm not mad at you or anything. I don't care how he fell asleep. I'm just glad he did." She looked around at the four friends surrounding her and unknowingly echoed Michael's words. "Let's get on with it."

Moving around the bed, Isabel patted the spot next to her. "Come on, Maria. All aboard the Dreamwalker Express, destination Michael's dream desert and points west, no stops."

Maria grinned and joined her. With Max in position by Isabel's side, they were ready. Isabel had taken Maria's hand and was beginning to focus on Michael's picture when Maria sat bolt upright. "What is it?" Isabel asked sharply.

"Nothing," the other girl said. "Well, nothing much, anyway. It's just..." Her voice trailed off and she looked at her best friend. "Liz?" she asked. "Would you mind...sitting with him?" She ignored Liz's understanding look and tried to justify the request. "It's been a hard day, and we're all in this together, and I...I just don't want him to be alone," she admitted softly.

"He won't be," Liz answered. With a sincere "Good luck," she left the room.

"Okay, now I'm ready." Maria lay back down, and the dreamwalking process began. A few moments, some confusing flashes and an intensely brilliant white light later, she opened her eyes to find herself standing with Isabel in a familiar-looking desert.

Looking up at the cloudless sky, Isabel spoke in caution. "We have to get this right. If it doesn't work, there's no way Michael will let us try it again."

"I know," Maria answered. "But it shouldn't be so hard this time. I mean, we've already been here, so we know what to expect. And there's still a hole in the wall, so all we have to do is reach in and pull Michael out. Then when he wakes up, he should be himself again, right?"

Isabel nodded hopefully. "So let's find him. Which direction?"

Maria slowly turned in a circle, trying to get a feel for Michael's location. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "What happened to my footprints, anyway?"

"It got a little breezy the last time I was in here," Isabel answered. "They must have been covered over with sand."

"Great," Maria complained. "Well, this way is as good as any." With that she headed across the sand, her hands outstretched. She wasn't going to run headfirst into anything this time, that was for sure.

Together, the girls walked for what seemed like hours, exchanging the occasional comment or complaint. After a while, Maria stopped and turned to look at the trail of footprints in the sand behind her. "We're not getting anywhere," she complained. "Did it take this long last time?"

"I don't think so. Maybe we're going in the wrong direction." Isabel pushed a few strands of hair off her hot face.

"I can feel him in every direction, so how can there be a wrong one?"

"Don't ask me. I'm just the transport on this little jaunt. You're the navigator."

Maria grumbled, "Where's Rand McNally when you need them? I'm working without a map here." She took another look around and continued, "Well, let's keep going. We're not going to accomplish anything standing still."

*****

Alex perched on Isabel's desk chair, watching Isabel and Maria as they lay unmoving, with Max kneeling nearby, maintaining the connection between them. At least they were doing something about the situation. All he could do was sit. And watch. And wait. And barring something going wrong, that's all he would be doing. He fervently hoped Liz wasn't feeling as useless as he was right now.

In the next room, Liz wasn't feeling at all useless. She was too busy feeling worried. Thoughts of the ongoing dreamwalk had filled her mind and kept her distracted for a while, but then a restless movement from Michael caught her attention. Was he awake? Was it over? She moved closer. His hands were moving fitfully across the fabric of the quilt, and his brows were drawn together in a grimace, but he was still asleep.

Kneeling by the side of the bed, Liz watched him uneasily. Max had said Michael was prone to nightmares. Somehow she was certain that she didn't want to know what he was dreaming about, that it would be darker and more disturbing than she could handle. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill, and remained by the side of the bed, afraid of trying to soothe him for fear of waking him. The others were taking action and all she could do was sit and watch, powerless to help.

*****

"How long have we been in here?" asked Maria, kicking at the sand in frustration.

"A few hours, maybe," replied the taller girl. "It's hard to tell."

"It isn't working!"

"Give it some time. Alex won't pull us out unless something looks like it's going wrong. Be patient."

"How can I be patient?" Maria cried out. "I'm no good at it. You want patience, talk to Liz. Wackiness is more my strong suit. Well, that and putting up with pigheaded, contrary aliens who would drive a sane person crazy! Arrgh! This is hopeless!"

"Maria, don't give up now. We can--"

"Give up?" Maria said, aghast. "I have absolutely no intention of giving up here, Isabel. Geesh, there was no reason to spoil a perfectly good rant."

Isabel smiled. "All right. Rant on."

"Well, now I'm not in the mood," Maria said sheepishly. They walked on for a few more steps, and she asked, "So how does this whole dreamwalking thing work, anyway? I mean, if one part of Michael is asleep and we're in his dream, can he see us?" Stopping in her tracks, she looked up at the empty sky and shouted, "Okay, Michael. You agreed to this dreamwalk. So help us out here already! It's your dream--give us a sign or something."

Isabel snickered. "What are you waiting for, a burning bush? He's Michael, not God."

"Oh, believe me, I am not confusing the two," Maria riposted. "I just think that since it's his problem we're working on, he could give us a little help!" Her voice rising shrilly, she called, "Got that, Michael Guerin? Get off your lazy dreaming butt and do something!"

There was no response. But then again, Maria wasn't really expecting one, so she wasn't surprised. With a sigh, she started trekking across the sand once more.

Behind her, Isabel could hear her muttering under her breath, but couldn't make out any of the words, for which she was grateful. She looked around for something else to focus on, and found it. Putting a hand out, she latched onto Maria's sleeve.

"What?"

"Did you just ask for something to happen?" Maria nodded. "Well, look."

Following her pointing finger, Maria took one look and felt her heart take up residence in her throat. "Oops."

TBC...