CHAPTER 29
Several moments that seemed like hours passed before Maria was able to pull herself together enough to speak. "We need to get this looked at," she said steadily, holding in the rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. "I don't know what to do for it. I mean, basic first aid isn't quite going to cut it here." She could practically feel herself start to babble, and she closed her mouth resolutely.
Looking at Michael once more, she saw that he was sitting very still, his eyes closed, breathing shallowly. He looked tired and in pain, and her heart could hardly stand it. "Michael?" she said, touching his cheek gently when he didn't respond, "I'm taking you home, okay? We'll get Max to come fix you up and you'll be as good as new." His mouth twisted and he wouldn't meet her eyes.
She looked around, hesitant to restore his makeshift bandages to his arm, and finally picked up one of Terri's clean towels and wrapped it carefully around his forearm, securing it with a few bobby pins from the makeup designer's case. He slid off the counter when she was done, and picked up his jacket, sliding it carefully on over the protective towel. "Come with me," Maria told him, leading him from the bathroom and into the hall towards the auditorium.
Once inside, she pointed him to a seat in the last row and rushed down to find Ms. Bedinger. "I thought you were taking your makeup off," the teacher commented.
"I'm sorry, but something's come up. An emergency. I have to go," Maria told her with haste.
The teacher frowned. "We still have several scenes to run," she reminded the girl.
"I know, but I can't. This is more important."
A raised eyebrow let her know that, according to Ms. Bedinger, nothing else was more important than the show. "And just what is the nature of this emergency?"
"It's a family emergency," Maria answered firmly. "I'm really sorry, but I have to go now." Without waiting for a response from the disconcerted teacher, she turned and started back up the aisle, only to be stopped by a concerned Alex.
"What's going on?" he asked quietly.
She responded in a low voice. "Michael's hurt. I need to get him out of here so Max can help him."
Instantly, Alex moved into action, calling down to the guitar player. "Hey Dwight, put my bass and amp away for me, will you?" He received a nod and turned back to Maria. "Let's go, then."
Together they headed back up the aisle, ignoring the curious looks from the cast on stage. When they reached Michael, they found him sitting stoically, eyes fixed ahead. It took several whispers of his name from Maria before he seemed to realize they were there, but he finally rose and followed the girl out of the auditorium, down the hall and into the parking lot. All without saying one word.
Maria situated the distracted alien in the front passenger seat and then tossed her bookbag to Alex, who'd climbed into the back. "My cell phone's in the bag. Call Max and Isabel and tell them to pick up Liz and get over to my place, fast."
Noting the seriousness of her tone, Alex did as she asked without quibbling. A short while later, the Jetta pulled up to the DeLuca's house, and Maria crossed her fingers that her mother had already left for the evening.
Michael was once again staring at nothing, and Maria had to repeat his name several times before he turned and looked at her, staring numbly at her face without moving. Sighing, she reached up and unbuckled his seatbelt, saying, "Come on, Michael, let's get you inside."
She barely had the back door unlocked and open, calling questioningly, "Mom? I'm home," when Amy appeared in the kitchen, fastening an earring as she entered.
"Hi, honey. You're home early."
With great aplomb, Maria answered, "Oh yeah. Rehearsal got out early, so we came on over."
"So I see. Hello, Alex. Michael," her mother added coolly.
Alex returned her casual greeting, but Maria was surprised when Michael managed one as well, saying in a gravely voice, "Hello, Mrs. DeLuca."
Exchanging a questioning glance with Alex, Maria told her mother, "We're just going into the living room, Mom."
"I'd like to speak with you for a minute first, Maria."
Alex looked at first one and then the other of the DeLuca women, and cleared his throat. "We'll just head on into the other room. Come on, Michael." The two left the kitchen.
"What is it, mom?" asked Maria, setting down her bookbag.
Amy steeled herself, then straightened and said, "I'm sorry, Maria, but on second thought I don't feel comfortable having that boy in the house."
Maria immediately knew she wasn't talking about Alex. Giving her mother a challenging look, she responded with one word. "Why?"
Amy looked uncomfortable, but managed, "He's not good for you. He gets into too much trouble--how many times has he been arrested now, anyway? He's not a good influence." Her voice trailed off as Maria let her know with a glance that she wasn't buying it. Amy paused, then spoke honestly. "I just don't like seeing you get hurt."
"What? What are you talking about? What?" Maria blustered with bravado.
"Oh come on, honey. I know how you felt about him last year. I'm your mother, remember? I also know how much you've been hurting all summer. And now things are finally going well for you again, and I don't want to see you blow it by getting mixed up with him."
"Getting mixed up?" Maria squawked, her voice cracking. "Look, Mom, you need to understand something. Whatever else he may or may not be, Michael is and always will be my friend. Nothing you can say is ever going to change that. He's been through a lot, but he's a good guy. And he's important to me."
Reaching out, Amy pushed the hair out of her daughter's face and studied her eyes. "You think you love him, don't you?"
"No. I know I love him," answered Maria honestly. Amy sighed, a distressed look washing across her face. "It's all right, Mom. Everything's going to be fine."
"I wish I could believe that."
"Yeah, me too," said Maria under her breath, before changing the subject. "So you all set for a good time tonight?"
"Yes, I am. Janet will be here to pick me up in a few minutes. I'll be back by 10:00, okay?"
"Yeah, Mom. Have a good time," her daughter returned with an over-bright smile. Amy gave her an odd look, but shook her head.
Maria was at the kitchen door when Amy said, "You know, it's a good thing Alex is over here. I'm not sure I'd let you and Michael stay here alone."
"Moooom!" protested Maria. "Michael is not going to do anything to me."
"It's not Michael I'm worried about," her mother answered. "It's you." At the girl's dumbfounded look, Amy went on, "I was young and in love once myself. And look where it got me."
"Yeah, take a look," responded Maria. "You're an attractive, independent woman who runs her own business. Really tough there, Ms. DeLuca. Besides," she added lightly, "you have the perfect daughter. What more could you ask for?"
Amy raised one eyebrow quizzically. "The perfect daughter, hmmm?"
"You betcha."
Amy smiled widely at said daughter. "Maria?"
"Yeah?"
"My very perfect daughter might want to take off her stage makeup before dinner."
Maria's hands flew to her face. She'd been so caught up with Michael that she hadn't even realized.
"There's Janet," Amy said as a car horn honked outside. "Have a good time tonight, honey. But don't do anything I wouldn't do." She paused, then added wryly, "In fact, don't do anything I did do, all right?"
"All right," laughed Maria, putting up her hands in mock submission. "See you later, Mom."
As soon as Amy had left the kitchen, the smile disappeared from Maria's face. She headed into the living room, and found Alex sitting on the couch while Michael stood by the window, gazing out at something in the distance.
"What was that all about?" Alex asked curiously.
"Oh, just Mom being Mom. Worrying about nothing," Maria tossed out. "Alex, keep an eye out for the others and let them in, will you? I'm going to get this gunk off my face."
"I was wondering if you were going to adopt that as a permanent look," joked the teen.
"Hardly. I prefer the unbruised version of me," she responded lightly. "I'll be back in a few minutes."
A short while later, she rinsed her face off and patted it dry. Looking in the mirror, she stared at her own reflection. It seemed unfamiliar, as if someone had slightly rearranged the elements into someone different. She shook her head. No time for flights of fancy now. Quickly combing out her hair, she pushed it back with a tortoiseshell band and headed downstairs. She wasn't going to bother to put any more makeup on. They could just take her the way she was.
Alex was still on the couch, watching Michael, who hadn't moved from the window. "They aren't here yet?" asked Maria. Alex shook his head.
Sitting on the other end of the couch, Maria fidgeted nervously for a minute. Should she confront Michael about his being whole, or wait until Max could fix him up? She could tell he must be in a lot of pain, and he kept doing that weird distancing thing, where he'd stare off into space. Maybe she should wait. But she needed something, anything, to keep her busy until the others arrived. "Anybody want something to drink?" she offered.
"No thanks," Alex responded, and went back to studying Michael. Michael didn't pay any attention to Maria's question or to Alex's scrutiny.
A few more moments went by. "I wish they'd get here," complained Maria. She turned to Michael. "Sit down, Michael, would you? You're making me nervous. And believe me, you do so not want to see me nervous." That seemed to capture his attention; he actually turned around and looked at her. Pointing to a nearby chair, she commanded, "Sit."
His mouth tightened, and he spoke. "I'd rather not."
"But you should rest. You're hurt."
"I'm fi--"
"Fine," she finished for him, her voice overlapping his. "I know, you're always fine, aren't you? God, Michael, you could be lying in little tiny pieces somewhere, about to die, and you'd still tell me you're fine. I know you've got a wider vocabulary than that--why don't you use it?"
"Why? I don't have anything to say."
So he had nothing to say, did he? Her lips tightened. "You don't?" she demanded sarcastically. "Why not? Were you just going to go on forever without telling me that you're back, that you're one hundred percent Michael again, that the damn dreamwalk we did actually worked?"
His face whitened, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Alex's start of surprise, but she blustered on, "Oh, yes, I know, Michael. I thought something was up yesterday, but I knew for sure today. I saw your arm while I was stuck in your head, remember? I can put two and two together--I'm not stupid."
Alex piped up, "Arm? What about his arm?" Neither one paid any attention. In fact, Maria rose from the couch and took a few angry steps towards Michael.
"So were you going to tell me? Tell Max, Isabel? Any of us?"
He bit out a one-word reply. "No."
"Well, why the hell not?" she yelled.
He shook his head and muttered, "It doesn't matter."
"Yes it does, it matters a lot," she insisted.
"That's not my problem."
Maria moved closer until she was staring directly up at him. "Well, what is your problem then, Michael? Enlighten me already!"
He didn't back away. "Keeping you out of trouble and then helping Max win his damn war so I can get the hell out of here, that's my problem! Satisfied?"
She blanched. She'd always known it would come one day. "You...you want to go back to your planet, don't you." It was a statement of fact, not a question. "To find your home."
"I don't care where I go. It doesn't matter where I go, don't you see that?" There was a hint of desperation in his voice.
"No, I don't see that, Michael. I don't get you. Why don't you care where you are? What's going on with you? Why can't you tell me what's happening, what you're feeling? Why do you keep trying to rebuild that damn stone wall?"
"You want to know what I'm feeling?" he choked out. "You want to understand me? Fine." Reaching out, he grabbed Maria, holding her face between his hands. For a moment she stared into his tortured eyes, and then everything she saw was swept away.
FLASH
Michael, trapped in the round room, beating helplessly on the walls, powerless to do anything but rage against whoever or whatever had put him there.
FLASH
An upraised fist, thundering down again and again as a small boy cowers away.
FLASH
A desert lying empty under a cloudless sky. No people, no life. Nothing.
The flashes were coming faster now, and with them came sound and pain and emotion. Michael's emotion.
FLASH
Helplessness as Hank beats him, screaming at him over and over, "You worthless sack of shit! You're nothing, do you hear me? You're nothing!"
FLASH
A mixture of relief, fear and nausea as Pierce's body flies away from them and lands with a sickening thud.
FLASH
Anger, rising up so thickly it almost chokes him.
FLASH
Max's voice, saying he is tired of cleaning up Michael's messes.
FLASH
A sick awareness that he is different. Not just alien, but different from Max as well. That he is wrong, bad, an imperfect copy...some perversion of what he should be.
FLASH
Fear, rising up to overwhelm
FLASH
Horror at what he'd
FLASH
Guilt that
FLASH
Terror
FLASH
Pain
FLASH
Killer
With a strangled cry, Maria jerked back away from his hands. Her knees began to buckle, and strong hands caught her from behind. She vaguely heard voices, talking miles away, but all she could see was him. Michael. She stared into his tormented eyes, as if she could see all the way to the innermost chambers of his soul. Opening her mouth, she whispered, almost soundlessly.
"Oh my god."
TBC...