Maria DeLuca shuddered violently as the door shut behind her. Tired, so tired, the Crashdown had been bustling with the usual Friday night crowd. Her head hurt, her feet hurt, her calf muscles ached. Too many hours on your feet carrying orders to too many impatient customers can do that to a person. All she wanted to do was go to bed. Sighing in disgust, she locked the door behind her and headed up to her room. The house was cold, dark, and empty, not that she minded, her mother, not her favorite person, was off at an alien convention somewhere. Her teenage daughter was undoubtedly the last thing on her mind right now. She left no note, no goodbye, just left. Maria didn't care, she realized that her mother forgot that she had a daughter most of the time. Since her father had left when Maria was five, her mother had changed. She stayed out late at night drinking, came home in the dark hours of the morning, moaning and wretching with hangovers. She was used to helping her mother into bed, and dodging her when her hangovers made her angry and physically harmful.
Maria's relief that her mother was not at home was overshadowed by her exhaustion. Too tired to do anything but change out of her Crashdown uniform and into an old gym uniform that she slept in, Maria collapsed on the bed and pulled the sheets up around her shoulders. She felt some of the tension leave her muscles, slowly she willed herself into a fitful sleep.
'BAM!' Maria's eyes flew open, the noise having disturbed her less than peaceful slumber. 'Mom's home' she thought reflexively. 'Please, just go to your room, throw up, and recover, please.' Sharp, definite heel clicks could be heard on the linoleum floor in the kitchen. They thudded up the stairs and down the hall towards her room, she tensed and prayed, but apparently, God wasn't listening just then. The door flew open and banged against the wall with no doorstop to prevent it from going straight through.
"Get...up...Maria," her mother slurred from her alcohol induced mind. Maria didn't move. "GET UP MARIA, GOD DAMNIT I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE!" Unable to ignore that sudden outburst, Maria slowly sat up, unwilling to show her mother how her yelling had unnerved her.
"Mom?" She figured her best bet was to feign sleep induced cluelessness until her mother came around.
"Don't 'Mom' me young lady! Amy DeLuca moved closer to the bed and stared down into her daughter's terrified face. Maria could smell the bourbon on her breath. "Do you know what I found out tonight?" Maria was afraid to inquire and afraid not to. In the end, she shook her head. "I found your father sleeping with another woman!" she hissed. "He's a bastard!...Know what that makes you Maria?" Again, Maria shook her head, not really wanting to hear the answer this time. "You're the child of a bastard-a bastard-child!" Amy found this insanely funny, she threw her head back and cackled almost evilly. Maria shrank back in horror. "Oh no you don't, you little bitch," Mrs. DeLuca suddenly grabbed Maria's wrist and yanked her out from under the covers. The next thing Maria saw was a flash of bright white, it took her a second to comprehend that her mother had slapped her across the face. She let out one helpless shriek as she felt the palm come in contact again with her already tender skin. She could feel her cheeks start to swell as she was hit again and again and again. She felt something hot and wet running down her face and she realized that her nose was bleeding. Dizzy and disoriented, she struggled to get away, but there was nowhere to go. Maria felt tears running down her face and realized that she was crying.
"Mom, please, please, don't do this," Maria whispered. She was afraid of making her mom angrier if she fought back or cried out.
"Shut the hell up Maria! Don't be such a disrespectful little idiot. Your father taught you that, didn't he?" Maria closed her eyes, confused as hell, and defeated. She realized that there was no way out. She had not seen her father in twelve years. If her mother was this far out of it, the situation was hopeless. She moaned in pain as the blows to her face momentarily subsided, she cracked her bruised eyes open.
Amy whirled around and grabbed Maria's hairbrush off of her dresser. Maria could see her eyes flash with intentions as she whirled back around to face her. Her arms flew to her face in defense, but she wasn't fast enough. The hard wooden back of the brush cracked up the side of her skull, sending her reeling against the wall on the other side of the room. Through blurred vision, she saw her mother come at her again and she tried to roll out of the way, but Amy grabbed a handful of Maria's long blond hair, making her howl in pain. At the same time, the brush connected with her stomach. She doubled over as much as her mother's grip on her hair would allow and howled in agony, tears mixing with fresh blood ran down her face.
Maria was on her stomach now, and she shuddered as she realized that Amy wasn't stopping. The hairbrush assaulted her backside. With every blow, Maria arched off of the ground a little and moaned, unable to hide it completely. Her rear end, she was sure, was black and blue, her back stung, and her thighs were on fire. She cried silently into the scratchy wool of the carpet, dirtying it with her tears and blood.
"Bastard-child!" Amy shouted again as she grabbed another handful of hair, effectively yanking Maria's head off of the floor. Maria winced as she heard her neck snap in protest. "You are no longer welcome in this house!" With that, Amy grabbed yet another handful of hair. The agonizing pain and pressure were too much- Maria howled in protest again, her instincts not registering that her mother might punish her for it. Mrs. DeLuca was preoccupied at the moment and did not seem to hear her. Maria felt herself moving and realized that she was being dragged across the carpet towards the door. Her scalp was on fire, but thankfully, parts of her body had begun to go numb, she supposed it was her body's natural defenses kicking in.
She tensed as she realized that Amy had reached the top of the stairs and she wasn't stopping. Her head and oversensitized back made contact with the first step, then the second, then the third, the rest of her body flailing uselessly out behind her, she screamed, not having the ability to do anything else. She felt every bruise already inflicted come into contact with the hard, jutting wood of the staircase. Tears riveted down her face in floods as her mother continued to drag her by the hair, down the staircase, into the foyer, and out onto the front porch. Her scalp stung, she didn't think she had any hair left. Her face numb and swollen, and her whole backside, swollen and tender, she let out a momentary sigh of some relief when she felt the pressure on her scalp diminish. Through bloodied, blurry vision, she saw her mother's drunk face staring hatefully into her own.
"Can't have anyone knowing that I slept with a bastard now, can I?" Maria was blinded by a flash of skin, a final momentary stinging sensation, then everything went black.
Seconds? Minutes? Hours? later, Maria slowly opened her eyes...and immediately wished that she hadn't. It hurt too much, her face hurt, her head hurt, her entire backside hurt, and her stomach was rebelling against the one blow from the hairbrush it had received. A wave of nausea swept over her, and without thinking, she rolled from her back onto her stomach and hoisted herself up on her hands and knees, which were surprisingly sturdy. Encouraged by her new position, the nausea returned, and without warning, she vomited into the grass. After a few more seconds, her head had cleared enough and she was able to think coherently. 'OK,ok....I have to go somewhere, can't stay here....don't think I can make it too far.' She tested her theory by attempting to stand. At first, the pain and nausea was too much to handle and she collapsed not two feet from where she had been. 'OK, DeLuca...you have to get out of here' she coached herself. 'You can do this.' 'But where are you going to go?' The logical side of her fuzzy brain broke through. 'Can't go to Liz's...she's out of town. Alex...too far...I'd never make it. Max and Isabel? Yeah...right.' 'Well, that leaves only one person...he'll understand, he has to understand.'
In a haze of terrified pain, Maria limped her way slowly from one tree to the next, not consciously going in any one direction. Several times, the pain overtook her and she had to sit down on the grass. Nausea overtook her once about a block away from her house and she vomited again. She was tired, so tired, and in so much pain, she wanted nothing more than to lay down on the ground and not wake up again for a while. Instinctually, though, her body knew that she couldn't do that and stay alive too. She came to a clearing and saw his apartment building in the distance. She allowed herself a momentary sigh of relief. Unfortunately, the residential developers had arbitrarily decided to stop planting trees every ten feet, so she had nothing to lean against. Humiliation overtook her, as she realized that the only way she was going to make it was to crawl the rest of the way to his front doorstep. In a sudden panic, she darted a few feet forward without assistance. Pain flared through every muscle and bone in her body, and she crumpled painfully to the asphalt on her hands and knees.
Vaguely, she counted herself lucky that it was the middle of the night. Here she was, crawling through the streets of Roswell on her hands and knees. At any other time, she would have been dead by now, hit by a car. The lose gravel bit into her palms, knees, and shins, but the pain was unnoticeable in comparison to the agony of the rest of her body. Glancing up, she saw that she was only a few feet from the door of his apartment. Thank God. Exhausted by her inhuman efforts, and weakened by excruciating pain, Maria dragged herself up the small concrete step to the landing. She rested her head against the door for a full minute before raising her fist and tentatively knocking on the lower part of the door. She could barely stand, let alone ring the doorbell. 'Please, God, help,' her mind formed the only thought it could through her delirious state.
Michael Guerin was not a deep sleeper. He rarely went to bed before midnight, and when he did, he usually fell asleep on the couch, watching TV or listening to music. Not that it mattered, no one was around to force him to go to bed, and he liked it that way. Since gaining his independence from Hank a few months earlier, Michael had learned the joys and trials of living on one's own, and for the most part, he was thoroughly enjoying it. He was learning how to feel safe in his own skin again, a sensation he could not remember ever having before. It was a learned behavior however, and he had not been free of Hank's abuse long enough to really enjoy it. Every noise in the night still woke him, his body instinctively protecting itself from intruders.
Michael's eyes snapped open and he jumped as he heard a light knocking on the door. Or at least, he thought he heard it. He waited tensely for a few minutes, waiting for confirmation, nothing happened. He was beginning to chalk it up to his overactive imagination when a loud 'THUMP' and a low moan suddenly came from the direction of the front porch. More curious than intimidated, Michael rose slowly from the couch and made his way around the living room to the small entranceway. He looked through the peephole. Nothing there. 'Guerin, get it together, you're losing it,' he scolded himself mentally. He started to turn around to reclaim his lost sleep, when a soft whimpering reached his ears. It was low and pitiful, and made his heart clench in his chest. He knew it was not his imagination. 'OK, some lost puppy has found it's way onto my doorstep,' he thought. Slowly, he turned and opened the door. And gasped in shock as he saw the shivering, shuddering form of Maria DeLuca huddled in a fetal position on his doorstep.
"What the hell?...Maria!!" he gasped, blinking several times, thinking that maybe this was a nightmare. He willed himself to wake up, nothing happened. He kneeled down on the concrete over her battered form and tentatively reached out and touched her.
"M-m-michael...ouch...p-p-please...help mmme."
"OK, ok Maria, it's ok." He could see in the faint glow of the moonlight, that her face and shoulders were black and blue. He had no idea what the rest of her looked like. He didn't want to think about it, just looking at what he could see made him sick to his stomach. Not wanting to cause her anymore pain, he slid his arms gently between her and the concrete and lifted, surprised at how easy it was. She weighed nothing, but even Michael's gentle touch was too much for Maria's sensitive skin. She moaned in pain. " Shhh....I'm sorry Maria, just hang on." With her last bit of strength, Maria wrapped her arms around Michael's neck and rested her face in his chest. Michael turned slowly, careful to not hit any of her bruised body on the door frame. He kicked the door shut with his foot and stared at the deadbolt on the door, willing it to turn. To his relief and amazement, it did. He looked down quickly to examine Maria, shaking and miserable in his arms. He still wasn't entirely convinced that it wasn't all a dream, a really horrible dream. Her pained moan snapped him back to reality.
'Concentrate Guerin,' he commanded himself mentally. Michael's panic instinct was quickly rising to the surface. He couldn't stand to see Maria in this state. Seeing her had brought back all of the literally painful memories of his days with Hank. He didn't even want to begin to think about how she had gotten this way. He could feel anger beginning to mix with the panic. Michael thought clearest when he was angry. With new purpose, he shifted Maria gently in his arms and moved towards the bedroom.
"Uuuhhh...." she whimpered as he eased her gently onto the bed.
"I'm sorry Maria, shhh, it's gonna be OK," he whispered, as he turned on his overhead reading lamp. She winced and squeezed her eyes tightly shut to block out the brightness. He gasped, stumbled backward, and almost yelled in anger at what he saw. "Holy shit." Maria's entire face was red, puffy, and swollen. There was a bloody gash on the side of her head. He glanced at her exposed upper chest and shoulders and saw the beginnings of what looked to be serious bruises. Tentatively, he moved her gym shirt to expose her stomach, and was not surprised by similar bruising he saw there. Every inch of exposed skin on her legs was slowly bruising as well. Michael silently cursed to himself as he ran from the room toward the kitchen to find the ice pack and make a phone call.
Michael had been working with his powers since he had been emancipated. He was improving, but he wasn't nearly as advanced as Max. And he wasn't willing to test out his half-ass powers on Maria. She didn't need to be more injured than she already was.
"Come on Maxwell, pick up," he pleaded with the ringing line. Finally, after the seventh ring, a very groggy Max Evans answered the phone.
"This had better be good Michael."
"Maxwell, get your ass over here, Maria's hurt."
"Huh? What happened Michael?" Max snapped fully into consciousness.
"I have no fucking clue Max, just get over here."
"Be there in a sec." Michael hung up and grabbed two icepacks from the freezer, then sprinted down the hall to the bedroom. He sucked in a breath as he saw Maria again in the full light. More bruises were beginning to form. Michael wanted to believe that maybe Maria had been hit by a car, a truck, a bus even, but the all-over, precise blow like marks on her body told another tale, one that Michael was all too familiar with. As if he had been punched in the gut, he suddenly knew what had happened. He turned and ran into the adjoining bathroom, grabbed a washcloth, and turned the knob on the sink all the way to the right. He soaked the cloth and wrung it out before returning to Maria.
She whimpered and twisted away a tiny bit as the pressure of the cloth on her face irritated the bruises. "Hold still, you're ok, let me help you." Michael gently wiped the blood clean from the gash on her forehead and folded the cloth before wiping the rest of her face slowly and gently, hoping that the cold would bring down the swelling. "Who did this to you Maria?" he whispered as he placed the icepack on her forehead, not really expecting an answer. He silently fumed at the unknown culprit. She moaned again, as if in response to his question. This time, her eyes flickered open when he touched her face.
"Michael?" she whispered, new tears forming in her eyes.
"Yeah, Maria, yeah, it's me." Subconsciously, he stroked her cheek in a soothing manner as he spoke.
"I hurt." She spoke two syllables before the tears threatened to spill onto her swollen cheeks.
"Shhh, it's OK baby, you're gonna be ok."
"How do you know?" Michael could sense the fear and anxiety in her voice as she looked up at him with her huge green eyes.
"Max will be here soon, we'll help you."
"M-max?" Her eyes got larger, and Michael prayed that she wouldn't hate him after all this was over.
"Yeah, he's stronger than me in the healing department," he explained carefully. "I don't want to mess up, I can't take that chance with you Maria." Maria could see that the confession was painful to make. She smiled encouragingly and nodded to show that she understood his reasoning. He allowed himself to relax a little.
"Michael?" The noise came from the door, and Maria and Michael turned to see a slightly disheveled, but alert Max Evans standing in the doorway. "I let myself in," he said by way of explanation. Michael nodded and turned his attention back to Maria. Max took that as an invitation and in two long strides, was standing over her, absorbing the sight of her battered body with concern and sympathy evident in his golden-brown eyes. "Hey Maria," he said quietly, not wanting to add to the apprehension he saw etched in her features.
"Max?" She sounded so lost, so scared, so alone, that Max's heart broke for his girlfriend's best friend. He looked her in the eyes as he spoke.
"No worries," he smiled at her. She attempted to smile back, but only managed a half-grimace because her face was swollen and sore. Max shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it on Michael's desk chair before returning to the bedside to kneel beside Michael, who held Maria's hand firmly in his own.
"Relax," Michael reminded her, giving the hand he was holding a reassuring squeeze, "We're going to help you. I'm right here."
"I'm not gonna hurt you Maria," Max said reassuringly, "can you trust me on that?"
"Liz would kill you," she joked weakly. She smiled slightly
"Damn straight," he grimaced at the thought. "Which is why Michael and I are not going to let anything happen to you."
"I know Max," Maria smiled, and then thought of the one thing that Max probably needed to hear. "I trust you." Max thanked her with his eyes, smiling slightly at the compliment.
"Can I?" he asked respectfully. Maria took a deep breath and gripped Michael's hand once before nodding her consent. Gently, Max touched her face with his fingertips, closing his eyes and searching out the bruised skin and broken blood vessels. They were not hard to find. "Look at me Maria," Max insisted gently. Obediently, Maria opened her eyes and tried to focus on his face, remembering what Liz had said about deep, soulful brown pools that she could drown in. And any girl had to say that Liz was right.
Maria felt the pain in her face diminish and then vanish all together. She was aware of Max's hands moving towards her neck, searching out bruises, and the tingling sensation that accompanied the healing process. She felt Michael's hands too, as he had moved to cup hers in both of his larger ones. She squeezed tenderly to let him know that she was alright. Slowly, she felt her trepidation melting away. Max was respectful and gentle with her. With him and Michael, she felt safer than she had in a long time. She felt his hand move up to the side of her head to heal the angry gash. She reveled in the increased energy that Max used to mend tissue, blood vessels and skin. The tingling increased and she felt her skin close beneath his fingers. When he removed his hand and placed it again on her neck, searching for any remaining bruises, she saw that there was no blood on his fingertips. She was so lost in these comforting sensations, that she almost didn't feel Max's concentration break. She realized he had stopped above her neckline. He was studying her face with a mixture of understanding and reassurance. She sensed tears beginning to burn behind her eyelids as she realized what he was asking.
"It's ok, I won't let anything happen to you," Michael whispered in her ear, gripping her hand slightly harder than he had been. She looked up and saw the sincerity and compassion in Max's eyes, and knew that she had to trust them. She gripped Michael's hand in response and nodded minutely.
Michael slid his arm underneath her shoulder and gently boosted her to a sitting position, trying not to notice when she gasped in pain. Max watched respectfully as Michael helped her remove her shirt. She eased herself back on the bed and closed her eyes, unable to look at Max's face. Michael and Max exchanged worried glances before Michael folded the shirt lengthwise and covered Maria's upper body, leaving only her stomach and ribs exposed. Maria opened her eyes ever so slowly and half smiled in appreciation. Michael smiled back, but grimaced inwardly.
They had both seen the bruises and welts covering Maria's breasts. Michael felt like he was going to throw up. Max's mind was spinning, he felt so bad for Maria. She had already been violated once tonight. He didn't want to be responsible for compounding her problems. He had no intention of hurting her in any way, but he could understand how she didn't like the idea of her best friend's boyfriend's hands all over her body. He sighed, dropping his shoulders back, he motioned for Michael to follow him out into the hallway. Michael stood and kissed Maria's forehead tenderly before turning to follow Max out of the room. He had a pretty good idea what he was going to say.
"Where are you going?" Maria asked, an edge of fear in her voice.
"We'll be right back, Maxwell needs a word or two with me. You're gonna be fine." Michael flashed her an encouraging, slightly quirky smile. He followed Max into the hall and shut the door behind him.
"You're gonna have to get rid of the bruises on her breasts Michael, I am not gonna make her more uncomfortable than she already is."
"I can't," Michael said apologetically. "I would do it all myself, but I didn't want to hurt her."
"You won't hurt her Michael, just do your best."
"I don't have the practice I need to do the rest though," Michael pointed out.
"I'll do the rest, I just know that she wants you to do this part." Michael nodded in agreement.
"Coach me, ok?"
"Sure, but you won't need it." Michael took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure. They turned and reentered the room, where a very nervous Maria lay on the bed, her eyes wide with anticipation. "It's ok Maria," Max assured her. "Michael is gonna do this for you while I heal the bruises on your legs, good?" Her features visibly relaxed as she considered this, finally nodding ever so slightly before sinking further down into the mattress.
Michael approached slowly, bending down to kiss Maria tenderly on the forehead before kneeling so that his eyes were level with hers.
"Ok?" he inquired cautiously, trying to calm her with his voice. He waited until she nodded before reaching towards her, slowly pushing her folded shirt up and placing his palm gently onto her sensitive skin. She gasped, not so much from shock as from pain. "Relax," Michael reminded her, stopping momentarily, but not breaking contact. "I'm not going to hurt you Maria." She nodded and smiled tentatively, making eye contact with him and holding him there, trying to tell him that she knew he would never hurt her.
Maria felt the tingling begin again, this time it was slower, interrupted by periods of heat, as Michael struggled to form the connection. His eyes never left her face. Even the heat diminished the pain before the tingling took it away completely. His breathing became labored and sweat trickled down his forehead. Maria moved her hand to cover the one that lay idle on the bed next to her. Most of the physical pain was gone, and Maria enjoyed the after effects, the warmth had not yet diminished and Michael's hand still lay on her right breast. Michael smiled at her comfortingly before taking his hands away, but Maria grabbed his wrist, firmly placing a kiss on his fingertips.
"Thank you Michael," she whispered.
"You're welcome Maria," Michael smiled and stepped back, allowing Max to take his place, while still keeping a firm hold on her hand. Max glanced down at Maria's legs and grimaced involuntarily. Not a square inch of flesh was left unharmed. Unfortunately, Maria saw his reaction. She cried out, not from pain, but humiliation. Max tore his eyes away from her lower body and tried to comfort her.
"It's ok Maria, feel better now, questions later, all right?" Maria nodded minutely and tried to breathe, letting Max's words put her mind at ease. Michael's right hand trailed gently up and down the side of her face, his left still held in hers by a vice like grip. She closed her eyes and let herself get lost in Michael's touch, while Max formed the connection to heal her remaining bruises. His fingers moved cautiously over her thighs, purposely avoiding the most sensitive area. For his compassion and good judgement Maria was truly thankful.
Finally, the front of Maria's body was completely healed and Max stepped back, surveying her critically to convince himself that there was no more to be done.
"Is there anywhere else?" Max asked, silently praying for Maria's sake that there was nothing else. Almost imperceptibly, Maria nodded, her eyes downcast.
"My back," she whispered, so softly that Max and Michael almost didn't hear it. They nodded understandingly, but she continued without any encouragement. "When she pulled me out of bed she forced me onto my stomach and I couldn't get up. Next thing I know, she's beating the hell out of my backside." Fresh tears formed unbidden in her eyes and spilled freely down her cheeks as she relived the memory. Michael held her upper body against his, stroking away her tears with his fingertips while exchanging meaningful looks with Max. 'She.'
"Shhh…you're ok, safe with me," Michael soothed her. He felt her shudder in exhaustion against his chest and her entire body went limp in his arms, entrusting herself to his care. She whimpered only slightly as Michael and Max eased her gently onto her stomach, exposing her back. Max's breath caught in his throat as he looked at her. Sickening shades of blacks, browns, blues, greens, and dark yellows met his eye. He glanced over at Michael, who looked like he was either going to kill someone, or throw up all over the floor.
Maria was humiliated, and angry, and tired, and scared, angry with her mother for doing this to her, angry with herself for letting it happen. She was humiliated, embarrassed that anyone, especially Michael and Max, should have to see her like this- bruised and broken, shaking like a leaf. They were being really nice about it, she had to give them credit, Max, so concerned, and gentle, and respectful, and Michael, God bless him, if it wasn't for him, she'd be dead by now. The combination of these new and somewhat terrifying emotions suddenly overwhelmed her overtaxed mind, and she subconsciously made the decision not to think anymore. She let herself go limp in Michael's arms, trusting him, knowing that he would take care of her. That was why she had come to him in the first place, right? So she did it, without any further thought, she wordlessly gave herself up to two of the few people in the world she trusted with her life.
Michael's hands gently massaged her abused flesh as his powers healed the damage. It felt incredible, the warm tingling sensations grew in intensity. Max gripped her calves gently while Michael worked on her back, letting his powers flow into her and heal her. Michael's hands drifted gently over her buttocks and she didn't flinch, only relaxed more as she felt him kneading and soothing her skin. He then moved his hands up to her shoulder blades and neck. He flinched as he felt the misplaced discs in her neck coming back together; he suddenly got images of her being dragged down a long flight of wooden stairs, her head and shoulders violently hitting each hard edge. He wanted to curse out loud but it would have broken his concentration. He tried to refocus his energy on healing her.
He could tell Maria was relaxing. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and thanked whatever god existed that she had come to him that night. He hated to think of what would have happened if she had stayed wherever she had come from, or had attempted to make it to Liz's- five miles away. Her breathing had slowed and become more even. Michael looked up and exchanged glances with Max as they took their hands away. Michael knelt down beside the bed so that his eyes were level with hers. She cracked her eyes open briefly, and he saw the relief, mixed with some embarrassment there. He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as he caressed her cheek briefly.
"All done," he whispered, "you'll probably feel light headed and tired, but just relax, you've been through a lot." She bit her lip and attempted a half smile. She discovered that it didn't hurt anymore, but her eyelids felt heavy, her body didn't hurt, but she was so tired that she felt like her limbs were made of lead. Michael realized that she was beyond the point of voluntary movement. He and Max rolled her over onto her back again. Max looked away, but Maria took his hand from her position on the bed and smiled encouragingly when he looked at her. "Max, help me," Michael asked. Max came forward tentatively, Maria didn't allow him to release the grip on her hand. "Help her sit up so she can put this shirt on." He produced a large gray t shirt from a drawer in his dresser. Maria had to smile slightly when she realized that the shirt was folded and ironed. Even her own mother didn't iron her t shirts! Still holding her hand, Max sat next to her on the bed and slipped his strong arm around her bare shoulders. Maria breathed in his scent, leather, and light cologne. She smiled. Liz knew how to pick 'em! She relaxed against him and allowed him to boost her to a semi-vertical position. Michael slipped the shirt over her head, and then there was the distinct, unmistakable scent of Michael surrounding her nostrils. The perfect mixture of fabric softener and Michael-scent. He gently guided her arms into the sleeves and pulled the shirt down around her stomach. It almost reached her knees. She smiled up at him gratefully before turning to Max who was beginning to move away. She pulled him back down and threw her arms around his neck, holding back the beginnings of fresh tears.
"Thank you Max, thank you for everything."
"You're welcome Maria," he said softly as his strong arms embraced her, holding her protectively, "you just lay back and relax, Michael will take good care of you." She turned her head on Max's shoulder to look at Michael and smiled.
"I know." She gave him a final squeeze and a friendly peck on the cheek before releasing him. He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and stepped towards the door, taking his jacket from the back of Michael's chair.
"See you guys, we'll talk later Michael."
"Right Maxwell, thanks for getting over here so fast."
"No problem." Max turned and left. Michael waited until he heard the sound of the door closing before turning to face Maria.
"You ok?" he whispered gently, studying her tired face to convince himself that she was healed. She nodded, but when Michael studied her eyes closely, he saw the pain that lingered there. It wasn't physical, he and Max had done their job well. But he realized that no alien medicine, or human medicine for that matter, could heal Maria's internal wounds.
He held her gaze for a second longer than Maria had been prepared for. She hid her face in the pillow, realizing that in those few seconds, he had learned everything he needed to know, and everything she had tried to keep from him.
Her bottom lip quivered slightly before she hid her face in the pillow. Michael saw it and caught the drained, exhausted look on her face and his heart broke for her. Instinctively, he moved to sit next to her on the bed and pulled her upper body into his arms. She whimpered slightly and struggled half-heartedly to get away, but her weakened body was no match for his strong arms, and the warmth of his body combined with the strength and security of his embrace was too hard to resist.
Michael relaxed his hold slightly when he felt her go limp in his arms once again. She had her face pressed into his chest, and he bent his head slightly to kiss the top of her head. With her still pressed firmly against him, he leaned down on to the bed next to her and pulled her down with him. She went willingly, too weak and tired and in need of his comfort to resist, even if she had wanted to. He pulled her closer into him. She responded by burying her face deeper into his chest, so that all that was visible to him now was long blond curls. He could hear her breathing deeply, inhaling his scent with each breath, and he sensed the hitching in her throat that told him she was trying not to cry.
"Shhh," he soothed gently, stroking her hair from the top of her head down to her shoulder blades. "It's ok, let it out, it helps." She had no idea that he was speaking from experience, that he had discovered this himself after fighting off tears so many nights after one of Hank's rampages. One night, he had let himself cry, he couldn't stop it no matter how hard he tried. And in a strange way, it had felt better. Michael knew she had listened to him when the quick breaths in her throat became moans, and then full out sobs. "Shhh," he whispered again, holding her tightly to him, stroking her head in faster strokes.
"I was so...scared Michael....so scared, she was drunk and...oh god...she said I was a...a bastard child...and that...my dad was a....a bastard...and....that she never wanted to see...me again...I'm not welcome in her house and..."
"Shhh, Maria, shhh....it's ok now, you're here now, you're safe, I promise. I won't let anyone hurt you." She nodded briefly before continuing to sob into his chest. He moved his hands in soothing strokes up and down her back. "Nothing to be scared of anymore." She shook her head, grasped his shirt in her fists and continued to sob quietly with her head against his chest.
Michael knew there was nothing else he could do, and the thought made his heart break into a million pieces. He wanted to get her some water, knew she must be dehydrated, but she wouldn't let go of him long enough to allow him to do that, and he didn't have the heart to move away. So he continued to stroke her back and kiss her head as they lay against the pillows.
Finally, Maria's sobs seem to subside. Her shoulders weren't shaking and Michael could tell she was asleep by her even breathing. He pulled gently away, attempting to disentangle himself from Maria's arms. He went to the connecting bathroom and filled his sink cup with water. The moment he had left the bed, however, he could feel Maria stir and knew she was waking up.
"Michael!" she shrieked before he had a chance to show himself.
"I'm here Maria," he said soothingly, hurrying over to the bed with the cup of water. Rather than handing it to her, he put it on the nightstand and looped his arms around her shoulders that had begun to shake again.
"I thought...I thought you had left me...I thought this was all a crazy dream, I wish it was. "I'm sorry Michael, I shouldn't have bothered you like this. You shouldn't have seen that and I'm sorry. I'll go now if you want." She started to throw the covers back and swing her legs to the floor.
"No Maria," Michael almost shouted, though she could tell it was concern more than anger that fueled his outburst. He took her ankles in one large hand and moved them back to the bed, pushing her down with the other hand as he spoke. "You're not going anywhere. You came to me for help, and now you have to play by my rules. And my rules are I don't let people who are recovering from being beaten to hell stand up and walk out less than two hours after they came here. And I don't take any of that "sorry for bothering you with my problems" bullshit. You already have, and I can't just let you walk out of here and pretend everything's ok. You taught me that Maria. You taught me not to walk away from my problems, so there's no way in hell I'm letting you do it." Maria opened her mouth to protest, but Michael placed two fingers over her lips and continued. "You don't have to tell me anything, now or ever, but if you want to, you know I'll listen." His heartfelt words brought tears to Maria's eyes. Michael whisked it away gently with his index finger and gently kissed the spot where the tear had been. Maria took a deep breath, followed by an even deeper sigh and nodded her consent. She had long ago realized that it was useless to argue with Michael when he had his mind set on something, she should know, she was exactly like him. She also realized that she was too tired to protest too much, and had she attempted to leave, she might have made it as far as the front door without collapsing. And to tell the truth, she was thankful that he was being so kind and concerned, she needed at least one person to care about her in her life. Her mother certainly didn't. Thoughts of her mother brought tension and tears back to her eyes. Michael wiped the tear away with his hand again and handed her the glass of water before reaching up to smooth her hair away from her forehead. The tears began to fall again and Michael took the empty glass from her and crawled into bed beside her, holding her firmly against him. "Sleep Maria, I'll be right here, I won't leave again, promise." Maria smiled slightly against him and kissed the hollow of his neck before letting herself relax in his embrace. She breathed in the scent of Michael and let her mind go blank except for the feeling of warmth and care surrounding her and his arms protecting her from all of her demons.
Max tiptoed through his doorway, stepping softly, trying not to wake up Isabel or his parents. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall that was softly illuminated by pre-dawn sunlight. It was 5:30, and Max was exhausted. All the way home, he had tried to make sense of the events that had taken place earlier that morning. He still felt sick every time he thought of Maria as he had first seen her in Michael's bed, bruised, bleeding, helpless, and scared to death. How the hell had she gotten that way in the first place? He knew he needed to talk to Liz, but something in the back of his mind wouldn't let him. He knew she would understand why he had helped, and she would support him, that wasn't the problem. The problem was Maria. He wanted to talk to her to get her permission before spilling it to the whole world. 'But you're not spilling it to the world' he reminded himself, you're telling her best friend. Liz has a right to know.' His mind made up, he walked quietly to his room to use the phone. He knew she was out of town, but he had her cell phone number and he knew she would be angry if he waited to tell her until she got back. Hell, he would be angry with himself for waiting that long! Knowing it would be impossible to sleep in his current state of mind, Max dialed Liz's cell phone and waited, praying that her parents would not pick up.
"Ello?" said a very sleepy voice on the other end of the line.
"Liz, it's me."
"Max! What's wrong? Why are you calling me at... quarter to six in the morning, is everything ok?" Max smiled in spite of himself. Liz could read him like book, and if he was calling her in the dark hours of the morning, it meant that something was very wrong.
"I didn't want to wait until you got back to tell you this," he took a deep breath. She waited nervously, giving him time to collect his thoughts. "I was at Michael's this morning, he called me over at like 3 in the morning...it's Maria, she's been beaten Liz...." He heard Liz gasp in shock on the other end of the line.
"Max! Oh god! What happened, is she all right? Do you think I should be there? Who would have done that to her?"
"I don't know Liz, I don't know. It was pretty bad, her entire body, and I mean every inch of it, was covered in bruises. But she's gonna be ok, Michael and I healed her, she'll be fine. She went to Michael's around 2 am and when he called me it was about 2:30. When I left she was just really tired, but we took care of all of her physical injuries. Her emotional scars are another story. She has Michael, he'll take good care of her. I just thought you should know, and I'll leave it up to you if you want to come home or not. If you want my opinion though, I think you should, I think Maria would be glad to see you, she only has one friend in the world right now, well make that two...Michael and me. Isabel and Alex don't know yet."
"Of course I'll come Max, I can't stay here and continue to have a good time with her back there in that condition! I'd worry myself into a frenzy. I know you and Michael will keep her safe. Tell him thank you...on my behalf and Maria's. I have my own car here so I'll tell my parents what happened and be there by 3 this afternoon. Thanks for calling Max, I love you."
"Love you too Liz, don't worry about Maria, she'll be fine, we'll take care of her. See you at 3." Feeling better about the whole situation, Max smiled slightly to himself and stripped down to his boxers before crawling into bed.
Michael held Maria against his chest in the early morning sunlight, the time when the sky starts to light up, but for all intents and purposes, it's still dark. He had held her all night, not daring to move, knowing that his presence brought her peace. He smiled at the thought, but while she had slept peacefully, for probably the first time in weeks, he stayed up, watching her, holding her, and soothing her gently when dreams ravaged her mind. He stared down at her sleeping form and smiled slightly, enjoying the feeling of waking up with her next to him. The seriousness of the situation had not escaped him however, and he felt a coil of anger rising in his stomach when he considered the possibilities. Who would have done this to Maria? She didn't have any enemies as far as he knew. Who dared to hurt this sweet, innocent, beautiful girl lying next to him? She certainly was beautiful, Michael had no trouble admitting that. So beautiful, that he counted himself lucky to be in her presence, here, with her in her most vulnerable state. Piecing these thoughts together in his mind, an idea occurred to him that made him sick to his stomach.
Maria was beautiful, and innocent, and vulnerable, what if these traits, the ones that he loved about her, were the ones that had gotten her into trouble? He needed to find out. Slowly, so as not to disturb her much deserved sleep, he pulled the sheets and comforter down below her hips and lifted his t shirt slightly to place a warm hand directly over her womb. He prayed as he searched the sensitive tissue, dipping slightly lower to search out all of the internal areas, and thanked God again when he didn't find anything. Relieved, he pulled the t shirt down again and pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, tucking Maria in with him, securing them both in a cocoon of warmth and safety. Maria snuggled closer to him in her sleep and Michael smiled as he wrapped his arms around her underneath the blankets. With all of his worries put to rest at the moment, Michael closed his eyes and breathed in Maria's unique scent of apples and mint. Finally, he allowed his body to relax next to her and slept.
Maria pried her eyes open, distinctly aware of the sun streaming into the bedroom window, blinding her light sensitive eyes. She also became aware of a body next to her and of an arm draped over her stomach. She felt warm and protected and didn't want to move, she moved her eyes to the side, and saw nothing but light brown spikes. 'Michael.' Comforted, she rolled back onto her side, nuzzling her face in the hollow of his neck. She wanted to stay here forever and not think about what she was going to do now that she had no place to live and no where to go. She was still tired, awake, but not enough to want to get out of bed, and Michael's arms were too comfortable, so she closed her eyes and tried to push all negative thoughts out of her head. It didn't work, every time she closed her eyes, an image of her mother saying "Bastard child! You are no longer welcome in this house!" floated underneath her eyelids. Maria automatically tensed and shook her head, trying to clear the image. Nothing doing. The tension in her body awoke Michael, and before she knew what was happening, he was up on his elbows above her, staring down into her eyes, concerned and inquisitive. He kissed her forehead.
"What's wrong Maria?"
"Nothing," Maria lied and tried to look away from him, but he would have none of it.
"Uh uh, Blondie, you can't lie to me, remember? Don't even try it." He took her chin gently in his hand and forced her to look into his eyes. He saw the pain there, and knew where it had come from, but there was something else there that he hadn't seen last night, he couldn't put his finger on it. Maria realized that what he was saying was true, her eyes swam with unshed tears as he looked at her. She couldn't hide it from him. She sighed resolutely and took a deep breath.
"I don't have a home anymore. I don't have a family. I don't...have anywhere to go! What am I gonna do Michael? I'm all alone. My father left when I was five, I haven't seen him since, and my mother..."
"Shhh...Maria," Michael put his fingers on her lips to silence her. She sounded so lost, so desperate, he wanted nothing more than to hold her forever and help her through all the shit she was going through. And suddenly, he decided that that was exactly what he was going to do. He searched her face and finally rested on her eyes, so full of desperation and emotional pain, as he spoke. "You're not alone Maria, you have me. My home is your home. You can stay here with me, and as for family, you have tons! Liz, Max, Alex, and Isabel, we're your family." Maria nodded her agreement, smiling through unshed tears.
"I can stay here with you?" she finally spoke in disbelief.
"Yes, I want you to."
"Won't I be an inconvenience?"
"Are you kidding me? Maria DeLuca, you are the smartest, bravest, strongest person I know, and you are anything but an inconvenience." She smiled at the compliment, but shook her head.
"I can't Michael."
"Give me one good reason why not."
"I...I...well..."
"Uh huh, that's what I thought, I'm not taking no for an answer Maria." Overwhelmed, she placed her hands on either side of his head and studied him as if to figure out if he were playing a joke on her. "I will not let you get hurt again, I promise that." He kissed both of her cheeks and then her forehead as if to seal his promise. She grasped his chin in her hands again and pulled his head down to rest on her chest. Stroking his spikes softly, she made up her mind.
"Ok Spaceboy, I'll stay," she whispered, unable to figure out if she was laughing or crying. Michael said nothing, only gathered her in his arms and hugged her tightly, stroking her back with his forearms.
"We'll work it out with Valenti and the others later today. Sleep sweet." He bent his head to look at her and realized she'd already fallen asleep.
