Enemy on the Inside
by
Disclaimer: Not mine. Jason Katims. The WB. UPN. All not me, so I guess they're not mine.
Author's Note: This is cliche. I admit it. Hurt/comfort stories are really done much too often. But a good H/C story is the only thing that can make me cry, and I like to write them, as well. Please give it a chance.
Setting: AU-post 'Departure'. Alex is alive, Tess is gone, there is no kid. Michael and Maria as they were, Max and Liz together again, Alex and Isabel, too. Isabel and Kyle's (platonic!) relationship occurred as it did on the show.
Summary: Max's life is threatened by an illness that no one thought would claim the health of the King. What can a helpless group of teenagers do against an enemy that strikes from the inside?
Rating: By chapter
CHAPTER FOUR-PG-13
Liz awoke in Max's arms, the sheets rumpled and tossed haphazardly over them. They hadn't actually taken their make-out sessions all the way, yet, but they were pretty close. Maria's cries from the other side of the wall had helped them along last night, too.
Max was still asleep, his arms curled around her slight frame, his head tossing and turning. He was obviously dreaming, but he didn't seem to be particularly unhappy, so Liz slipped out of his arms, pulled on her robe, and headed into the main living area of the hotel suite. No one else was there, though next door, she could hear someone, probably Kyle, or else one of the others, alone, taking a shower.
The shower switched off as she was listening, and she looked at the clock. It had been five minutes. It was definitely someone by themself. Michael and Maria in the shower could be there for hours, literally, Liz had learned from experience during this trip. She'd been too tired and worried about Max to tease Maria yet, but she wouldn't be able to resist, she knew, now that Max was better.
Isabel wandered, bleary-eyed, out of the room she shared with Alex, and headed toward the refrigerator in the corner of the room in search of orange juice. When she found it, she poured herself a glass, and started to stretch on the arm of the couch. Liz noticed that she was wearing her jogging gear, and asked about it. "Are you going running?" She questioned.
Isabel nodded. "Is Max okay?" She asked, concern shining in her eyes.
Liz nodded, and smiled. "He seems to be. He isn't up yet, though."
Isabel smiled at Liz, giving the human girl a rare view of a happy alien. "Good," She said, more to herself than Liz. She handed Liz the carton of orange juice. "I'll be back in an hour or so. Then, after Max is awake, we'll have to get going, I guess."
Liz nodded, and poured herself a glass of juice. "I'll start packing our stuff, so that he can sleep as long as he wants," She told Isabel. The alien girl nodded back, and shoved the orange juice back in the mini-refrigerator that the hotel had provided. The blonde girl pushed open the door, closed it behind her with a click, and was gone. Liz headed back to the room she shared with Max.
Max had quieted, and seemed to be sleeping more peacefully. Liz bushed his bangs out of his face, and smiled, just watching him sleep. She knew how close she had come to losing him, and the thought caused her so much pain she wasn't sure she would live through it, if he ever really did die.
Pulling herself reluctantly away from her sleeping boyfriend, Liz started hunting around the room, packing up first her own things, then Max's. The dark-haired alien slept soundly through all of this, which didn't surprise Liz. Max hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a week or more, besides the nights he'd been passed out from the pain medication. Before that, he hadn't exactly slept comfortably, either.
Isabel returned in the promised hour, and slipped into the shower. Alex arose, and packed his things, and Michael, Alex and Kyle started loading the van with their things. Maria looked around, made sure everyone had their tickets, and their IDs, and knew their false names, were totally packed up, and just generally ready to go. When Isabel emerged from the shower and went down to the front desk to check them out, Liz returned to her bedroom to awaken Max.
Putting a hand on his shoulder, Liz shook him gently. "Wake up," She murmured. Max mumbled something, and threw his head back and forth, but didn't actually awaken. Liz smiled, and shook him a little harder. "Max," She said. "We have to go."
Max opened his eyes sleepily, and looked up at her. "Liz?"
Liz nodded.
"It's time to go?"
Liz nodded again.
Max stretched his arms over his head, and Liz heard joints pop. Max grimaced in the pleasure-pain of the sensation, and flopped his limbs back down on the bed, looking up at her. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
Liz shrugged. "You needed your sleep. You're going to have to pretend that you're fine when you get home, and I figured you could use your rest now." She smiled down at him.
Max smiled back, and Liz felt like she was drowning in his eyes. They were brown, probably the most common color in the world, but there was something special about Max's eyes. Maybe because she knew what was behind them. Maybe because every time she looked into his eyes, she imagined she could see into his head.
After all, she had before.
Pushing himself off the bed abruptly, Max swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing at his clothes. Changing his mind suddenly, he grabbed Liz instead. She almost cried out, but managed to keep silent as he settled her on his lap, and pulled her close. She relaxed into his familiar embrace without hesitation, knowing that they both realized how close they'd come to never seeing each other again.
Moments passed, and eventually, reluctantly, Liz pulled herself from her boyfriend's arms, dropping the clothes she'd left out for him on his lap. "Get dressed," She told him, "and then meet us at the car." She handed him a key to the room, and he nodded, looking around the room.
"I packed your stuff," Liz told him, recognizing that he was looking for his things.
Max looked up at her with mild surprise on his face. "Thanks."
Liz smiled, and nodded. "Just get dressed," She replied, stepping out of the room.
Fifteen minutes later, the troop was squashed into the back of the minivan, and on their way to the airport. Between their things and themselves, there wasn't a square inch of room left in the vehicle, but the group was much happier this time, then they'd been on the previous trip cramped this way.
The flight was uneventful, and Max slept through most of it. Their tickets and IDs were accepted without question, and the ride was smooth, without any complications. They got into Roswell around three in the afternoon, and headed for their cars in long-term parking.
Piling into the Jeep and Jetta, the seven teenagers headed back into their hometown, driving a rather convoluted route so that it would appear to their parents as if they'd come from the opposite direction of the one they actually had.
Dropping off first Alex, and then Liz, Max and Isabel headed home, where they were greeted by their mother, who told them that they were never allowed to be gone that long again, because she'd missed them too much. Max and Isabel smiled, exchanged glances, and joined their parents in the living room to talk about their 'trip'.
The next week passed uneventfully. Liz worried that Max wasn't gaining strength, but he wasn't losing it, either, so she refused to allow herself to worry too much. Max insisted that he was just still wiped out, which Liz knew could certainly be the case, so she attempted to start treating him as though he were healthy.
Max visited Liz at the Crashdown, and took her out on dates, but they grew apart from each other, both getting back to their separate lives as a result of Max's illness clearing up. They were still very much together, but no longer did Liz spend every waking moment at Max's side.
When two weeks had passed, and Max still seemed to be on an even keel, or perhaps he was slightly better, the group as a whole, began to relax. Their alien leader was better, and they had their own lives, which they started getting back to. Only Isabel remained concerned with Max's health, for the sense of foreboding that she had felt had persisted into her actual healing of him, and she didn't believe that her actions had actually been without consequences.
When three weeks had passed, and Max still showed little or no improvement, Isabel intercepted Liz in the back of the Crashdown as she was getting off her shift. "Why are you here?" The human teenager asked, glancing at Maria, who was changing in the other corner of the dressing room. "Is everyone okay?"
Isabel nodded tersely. "For the moment. I need to talk to you, Liz."
Liz looked over at Maria, who shrugged, and she turned to Isabel, whose face was blank mask, showing nothing at all. "Okay. I'll meet you outside, in the alley. Give me five minutes, okay?" Isabel nodded tensely, and left the room.
Maria headed to Liz's side, and continued changing as she questioned her friend. "What was that about?"
Liz shrugged. "I don't know. She seems worried about something."
"Is everyone okay?"
"She said, 'For now'. I hope so."
Maria nodded, her face serious. "Well, go talk to her, then," She told Liz, grabbing her friend's uniform, and hanging it up beside her own. Liz nodded.
"Thanks, Maria." She grabbed her things, and headed out of the room.
~~~~~~~~~~
Isabel was waiting tensely, her arms crossed over her chest, standing with her back against the cement walls of the alley, directly across from the door to the back of the Crashdown. She scanned back and forth, keeping a nervous eye out as she waited for Liz.
When the door pushed open, she stopped moving her head, and focused her gaze on the petite brunette closing the door gently behind her. Liz looked concerned, Isabel's own emotion having projected upon her when she'd approached the girl in the back of her parents cafe. "What is it?" Liz asked, without preamble.
Isabel decided to just jump right in. "Max isn't better, Liz."
"He isn't worse," She replied, and paused. "Unless you're not telling me something."
Isabel shook her head. She'd long since stopped being annoyed at Liz's refusal to believe anything she said. They just weren't the best of friends, though they could now be civil. It was just something they both had to live with. "No, you know everything I do."
"Then what is it?"
Isabel burned her gaze into the smaller girl. She had to understand, she just had to. And even if she couldn't, Isabel wasn't going to stop trying until every possible way had been exhausted. "He isn't better, Liz. This isn't normal. Five days, ten maybe. He should have been back on his feet ten days ago, at the latest!"
Liz looked pointedly at the older girl, daring her to try and stare her down. "Forgive me for saying this, but you don't know what 'normal' is, Isabel. I think you're probably the first set of aliens in human bodies living for extended periods of time on earth, and even if that's not true, the chances that Max is the first of those aliens to get cancer, is pretty good. So, having nothing to compare it to, who are you to say whether his recovery is normal or not?"
Isabel's gaze didn't waver. She had to make Liz understand. She had a suspicion that Liz might be covering her own fear for Max with these arguments, but it didn't really matter. No matter what Liz was thinking, Isabel had to break through it. "Liz. You know that we heal fast. You know that Michael almost died, and was fine two weeks later. I know you don't want to believe it, but Max isn't better, and he won't get better if we don't find out what's going on!"
Liz stared down the taller girl for a long moment, and finally broke down, her muscles loosening, her body slumping with defeat, though Isabel thought that she was probably surrendering more to herself than the older teenager. "Alright. So what do you need me for? Shouldn't you be telling this to Max?"
Isabel looked at the alley pavement and quickly looked back up. "He won't listen, Liz. He doesn't hear me."
Liz shrugged in a last gesture of defiance. "Okay."
"No! It's not okay! He has to know! The sooner we do something about this, the better chance we have of actually saving him!"
There was a long silence in the alley behind the popular cafe. Though all of the group of teenagers had been fully aware of the possibility that their alien leader might not make it, no one had voiced this opinion, except for in Max and Liz's brief conversation. It was always, "When you were sick" or, "While you were ill", never any talk about how close that he had come to dying.
Liz looked at the pavement, staring ironically, at the exact same spot Isabel was. "Okay, Isabel. What do you want me to do?" She asked, tiredly.
Isabel looked up at her. "I need you to help me convince Max," She explained. "I need to connect to him, to see what's going on, but he won't let me as long as he's in denial."
Liz nodded slowly. "Alright. When?"
Isabel nodded her head towards the more busy street at the end of the alley. "The Jeep's here. If you can come, now works for me."
Liz nodded.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Max watched out of his window as the Jeep pulled up into the Evans' driveway, carrying Isabel and a dejected-looking Liz. Anger surged momentarily, wondering what his sister had said to Liz, to make her upset like that, but that was pushed down by fear, which was quickly immersed in Max's refusal to believe that he was still in any kind of danger from his cancer.
A key clicked in the lock, and Isabel ushered Liz into the room. Max, who by now had managed to convince himself again that he was fine, stood up and greeted her with a warm smile. "Hey," He said.
Liz wasted no time. "Max, sit down."
Appearing bewildered, he obeyed. "What's this about, Liz?" He asked.
"Isabel came to me this afternoon," Liz told him. Max looked up long enough to see his sister sinking into the shadows of the room, but standing firmly enough that the alien teenager knew his sister still stood by whatever it was that she had said.
"Okay... What did she say?"
"I didn't want to admit it, Max, but I've known it for a long time. You're not better. You're just not getting better. It's been too long. Something's up. You should be healed by now, but instead, if anything, you're worse."
Max looked at her with those brown eyes she could sink into. "I'm fine, Liz."
Liz had an odd look on her face, half pity for him, and half pain, probably her own. "No, you're not, Max. I didn't want to think about it, let alone deal with it, but something needs to be done. Now, Isabel just wants to connect with you, and check it out. If you don't want to believe you're still sick, then let her do it for her peace of mind." Liz beseeched him with her gaze, holding his stubborn stare with her own until he gave in.
He nodded slowly, and leaned back on the couch. "Okay."
Liz let out a sigh of relief, and motioned Isabel over. Max's sister hurried close, and wasted no time in establishing the connection.
Emotions warred through Liz's body. The impulse to deny the seriousness of Max's condition fought the need to realize what had been her greatest fear for close to six weeks now. Eventually, she pushed all of her feelings out of her head as best as she could, and concentrated on watching Isabel check over her brother. Whatever information this yields, at least the war inside my head will be over, Liz reminded herself.
It took minutes, and Liz sat, simply watching patiently as Isabel ran her hands over her brother's torso and limbs. When the lighter-haired twin broke away, Liz's blood rushed immediately from her head at the pallid expression on Isabel's face.
"What's wrong?" Liz whispered, ignoring Max for the moment. He watched, bewildered.
Isabel ignored the smaller girl, and brought her eyes slowly to her brother's. Max just looked down at her, ready to accept her judgment. "It's bad," Isabel whispered.
~~~~~~~~~~~
"What's bad? What is it, Isabel?" Max asked, holding himself and his panic firmly in check as he tended to his sister. "What is it, Isabel?"
Isabel looked from him, to Liz, and back to him. "The cancer spread, Max."
Max felt the blood rush from his own head, but he kept a firm grip on his emotions as he tried to get out of Isabel, what information he could. "How, Iz?" He asked slowly, patiently, as if he were dealing with a child.
Isabel seemed to gather herself a little as she sat up, holding herself together, though she was still shaking hard. "All over. But your heart is failing, Max. That's why you haven't been getting better. Your body is recovering very slowly because your heart isn't getting the blood where it needs to go anywhere near as efficiently as it should be."
Max sat back against the couch, breathing hard. Liz fell to her knees, and then climbed up on the couch beside him, crying silently, the tears running down her face at an tremendous rate. Max put an arm absently over her shoulders, but was really too much in shock himself, to deal with Liz's. Isabel sat in the chair opposite them, watching and waiting for her diagnosis to sink in.
After a few minutes, Max looked up, and pulled himself together. "Tell me as much as you know, Isabel," He instructed her, pulling the still sobbing Liz to his side and holding her close.
Isabel looked about ready to break down herself, but kept a careful rein on her emotions as she told her brother all that she knew. "I can't seem to heal it. I don't know why, but I don't expect any more luck finding the answer to that question than we had before. The gentler on it you are, the longer it will last, but eventually, it's going to give out." Tears shone in Isabel's eyes as she watched her brother.
"What do they do for humans?" Max asked.
Isabel shrugged. "Heart transplants, I think. But Max, even if we miraculously got you a heart transplant, it's only a matter of time before the cancer eats up something else. We can't just keep replacing your body parts."
Max nodded slowly. "No, I guess not." Then, after a long pause, he gestured to the telephone on the table across the room. "Get the gang over here," He instructed his sister in a dull tone that masked his real anguish.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The next few weeks were a living hell for the seven teenagers and Sheriff Valenti, the only adult they'd disclosed the truth to. Liz visited Max as frequently as possible, but couldn't simply give up on living her life, her parents and his were already far too suspicious. Frequently, however, Liz wondered why it mattered if the parents suspected, now. Max was going to die, either way.
The other members of their group didn't seem to know how to handle themselves, on a daily basis, but especially in front of Max. Only Liz and Isabel visited regularly, and he and Liz never really spoke. She would come, talk to him about school or something, and then, as soon as his parents left, she would crawl into bed with him, where she and Isabel made him stay, and huddle up to him, sometimes crying, sometimes dry-eyed.
Isabel would sit by his side as he slept, more often than not. She played cards with him, brought him his meals, and entertained him. She also handled the parental aspect of this all, telling her parents that Max had a bad case of the flu, and refused to stay in bed, but really needed to. That way, she managed to get their parents entered in the ever-waging war to keep the alien king immobilized.
For a while, even though he didn't improve, his health didn't falter, either, though. He continued to function fairly well, and keep their parents from worrying excessively. He insisted on keeping his job, which Isabel and Liz allowed him to do only under the stipulation that he would rest all of the time he wasn't actively working, and at home. He had fought them, but they won.
Only in the fourth week after Isabel's havoc-wreaking announcement did Max's health really start to go downhill. His breathing grew more labored, and climbing the stairs was an extensive exercise for him. He finally gave up work, and spent most of his time in bed. Michael started coming to visit, coming out of his denial as he started to see his friend actually, really sick. Kyle stopped by to leave a card and a hello, and Alex visited frequently, though it was more to help calm a jittery, panic-stricken Isabel's nerves than anything. Maria spent a lot of time trying to get Liz to go out with her, leave the melancholy atmosphere of the Evans' house, but was largely unsuccessful.
On one such occasion, though, at Max's insistence that Liz get out, Maria had driven them both to a remote point in Roswell's desert, to have a picnic. They made it halfway through their meal with Maria's chatter filling the silence, but after that, even Maria couldn't keep the air from filling in and making the space seem empty.
"Wow, you're quiet," She said, half-joking.
Liz didn't answer.
"Look, I know you don't want to talk about it. And who am I to tell you that talking about it will do anything except tell the air what you think. But I think that you should say something about it. You haven't discussed the topic in weeks, Liz, and it can't be easy, or good, to keep it all bottled up. Goodness knows how I'd be feeling if it were Michael."
Liz still didn't answer verbally, but she looked up at her friend, and met Maria's eyes for the first time. Encouraged, Maria continued.
"You of all people should know that I can keep this up until I drive you crazy," She mock-threatened.
Liz laughed quietly, humorlessly. Maria smiled down at her friend. "See, that wasn't that hard, was it?"
Suddenly, Liz's face crumpled, and she fell into Maria's arms, sobbing. Maria didn't say anything, just held her and rocked her.
"It's just that... he's going to die, Maria! And I don't know how I'm going to live without him." Liz buried her head in her best friend's chest, and sobbed, her body heaving with her quickened breathing.
Maria didn't say anything for a long while, just held the darker-haired girl in her arms, rocking back and forth a little, as though she were comforting a small child.
Their hair mingled on Maria's chest, Liz's dark, almost black hair meeting Maria's light blond curls. Maria ducked her head as she held onto her own urge to give in and cry, burying her face in the mass of long hair. Liz looked up long enough to meet her friend's gaze, and Maria read the message in them.
Let it out. It's okay. You were here for me, I'll be here for you.
Maria put her head back into the nest of dark and light, straight and curly, and cried her own grief for the alien king into her best friend's shoulder.
~~~~~~~~~~
What could have been minutes or hours later, Liz and Maria's tears were dry and crusty with the salt, but neither girl had moved. They still held onto each other, drawing and giving strength this way, allowing their pain and anguish to breath. Their breathing slowed steadily, growing more and more rhythmic, and eventually, they just sat there, no longer crying or gasping or shaking, just holding on to each other.
Liz's cell phone rang abruptly, shattering the quiet of their pose. The girls pulled apart to investigate whether it was their phone, and Liz picked up hers, clicking the talk button and dreading what she was about to hear.
"Hello?"
"Liz? It's Isabel. Max is going downhill, fast."
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