Max locked the door to the hotel room after Isabel and Kyle filed in to join the others. Liz stood at his side as he turned to face everyone. River Dog stood silently against the wall, stoically straight. He had not seen the young group in over two years, but he remembered their meeting in the cave on his reservation vividly. The night they joined together to save a near-death Michael.

The room was silent as Michael took care of Maria. They all waited, wishing to leave him the peace to attend to her with as much privacy as could be allowed from a room full of people.

Liz had helped him get Maria's rain soaked clothes off when they first got back to the motel. While Max and River Dog went to collect Isabel and Kyle, he had slipped a pair of baggy gray sweat pants and a t-shirt on her. Now, as everyone was gathered in his hotel room, he tucked her beneath the covers. He couldn't let his eyes leave her troubled face. She seemed to be somewhat awake, but he knew she was too disoriented to speak coherently. He shakily brought a hand through her wet locks of hair and looked away from her weak appearance, undoubtedly brought about because of him. Sitting beside her shivering body, he clasped her ice cold hand with his own and waited for someone to speak.

Outside, thunder boomed so loudly that the window pane was forced to quiver, sending a docile rattling into the room. Michael was staring down at his hand, enveloping hers. Every other set of eyes roamed around the room, waiting for someone else to figure out which question to ask first.

It was Max who finally stepped up. "How did you find us, River Dog?"

"I have ways the FBI haven't heard of, Max," he said simply. Quietly.

"What's wrong with Maria?" Michael demanded abruptly. He stared up angrily at the aging man, desperate to hide his fear.

"She has been changed."

"The same thing that happened to Liz is happening to her," Max explained logically. "I healed Liz and she changed. Maria wasn't healed. How is that possible?"

River Dog glanced confusedly at the dark haired young man for a single moment. "I believe you have jumped to a wrong conclusion, my friends."

"We know that Maria hasn't been healed, River Dog," Liz spoke with calm eloquence. "She would have told me. Nothing happened to her."

"You were not changed when Max saved your life. This ability to heal has nothing to do with what has happened to you and Maria."

"Then how did this happen? They're not like us. They're not alien," Isabel stated the obvious from the corner of the room. She had that look of worry etched across her lips again. Just another obstacle dragging them back. Everything was doomed to fail, and she had stopped trying to figure out what they had done to deserve it.

River Dog turned to face the weary blonde. "They are not alien. You're right. Your friends are human, and because of it, they were changed when they entered the Balance."

"The what?" Kyle asked, his eyebrows creased in bewilderment. Max wore a look of shock. Isabel's expression was similar, while Michael had gone pale.

"When Maria, Liz, and your friend Alex took the healing stones and circled around Michael to help save him, they entered the Balance and came out different."

"It's not possible. That was over two years ago," Michael snapped out without thinking.

"We thought Max healing Liz changed her, and that happened long before Michael got sick," Isabel answered.

"The symptoms do not reveal themselves so quickly, Michael. When I healed your protector, Nasedo, I noticed signs almost three years after as well. I almost died. Our bodies react differently. We won't know how Maria's will cope until the changes are complete."

"Why didn't you tell us back when this all happened?" Max asked, almost angered.

"I warned you that the Balance was a very powerful thing. I told you that it would change you."

"When it was over, then. Why didn't you tell us that Liz and Maria's bodies would react like this? It happened to you. You could have warned us about the changes!"

"There is no way to stop what happens. It would not have been a good time to tell you directly after. For the three of them to live for so long knowing something almost supernatural was going to happen to them. To know their own body was to change, become foreign in a sense. It is not an easy feeling to live with. I did not want to alarm anyone. I did not want anyone to live in constant concern, Max."

"I can't believe this. I thought we could trust you, River Dog. And you kept this from us. We could have done something to prevent it."

"Max, calm down," Liz said with surprise as she stepped beside him. "I'm all right. See. I came out fine, and Maria will too. It's all going to be okay."

"Do you see that in your crystal ball too?" Michael asked, his voice uncharacteristically meek. He stared bleakly at his black boots against the dirty beige carpet.

"No. No, I don't. But I just really wish you two would stop overreacting. Maria has to let her body adjust. That's what I had to do. It's all right."

"No, Liz. It isn't. Everything's changed now."

"I don't understand how it has, Max." Liz looked into his eyes, unable to place the difference in his appearance. He was afraid and upset, yes. But some other darkness was clouding his expression now. For a single instant, she could see something Maria had told her she always saw in Michael. For a single instant, she saw self-loathing. She saw blame. "We're still the same," she whispered her attempt at counteracting this new sensation that surely rippled freshly in her husband's blood.

"Nothing's the same!" Max expressed loudly, and although he wasn't screaming, it was as close as he would ever get to raising his voice to her. Liz watched as he gestured for River Dog to follow him. He strode over to the door, opened it, and walked away from her. She could do nothing but watch him leave as River Dog left in the same fashion.

Isabel's tired voice filled the room, partly distracting Liz from her bewildering hurt at Max's sudden anger.

"So this would have happened to Alex too, if he had lived." Isabel refused to look at anyone else in the room as her eyes misted.

"I still don't understand what all this balance crap is all about." Kyle looked to Liz for explanation in the quiet, dim room. There was a shift in the air, though nothing moved. Their presumption had been wrong, and it left everything in their already uncertain lives completely questionable.

"Michael got sick a long time ago. We used those healing stones to save him," Liz whispered.

"He would've died," Isabel added.

"Yeah, that's right." Michael stood up matter-of-factly. He rubbed his forehead and let his heavy eyelids close for a moment. When he opened them again, nothing had changed. Isabel still stared at him with her sisterly concern. Liz was glancing around the room with her innocent and unassuming eyes. Kyle was confused.

"That's right," he continued. "They all saved my life. Bailed me out of another one of my screw-ups, Kyle. Now, Liz is different and can't go back home because they'll find out that she's different. And Alex is already dead. And Maria. Maria's suffering because she helped save my pathetic life too. And you know what? I couldn't even give her a decent thank you back then."

"Michael," Isabel began, knowing the dejected tone in his voice too well.

"No. Isabel. No I screwed up. It doesn't get any simpler than that." He frowned, retreating from the scene and entering the bathroom only to slam the door behind him. Glass could be heard breaking inside. The light flickered over them for a brief moment as another harsh slamming noise filled the room, pushing shadows out into the open to dance against the walls before falling back into the corners. Michael was ripping appliances out from the now violent walls in anger. No one went to stop him. They let him break down alone, for no one in the world could make him feel at peace with himself. Not anymore.

***

"All this time, I thought I was the one that changed Liz."

Max collapsed down onto the bed he had been asleep in with Liz only an hour ago. It was darker than when he left it. Liz was still in Michael and Maria's room with the others. He didn't bother turning on the lights.

He liked it better when he knew that because he saved Liz, she had changed. Too bad he had never really known that, though.

Rain was sliding down the windows, and resolve was sliding out of his mind. His hands fell on either side of him, gripping the comforter so tightly that it hurt his white-knuckled fingers. So much was altered in just a few short minutes. Maria was sick, her body obviously not adjusting as well as Liz's had to whatever transformations resulted from their actions in the cave. And Liz. She was not different because she was saved by him. She was different because she helped save Michael. His friend. His brother. His problem. Max allowed a rare and heavy sigh to escape his tight lips.

"I am sorry that what you believed before is not right, Max. But there isn't time to dwell. I didn't come to find you only to explain the consequences of the Balance."

Max stared over to River Dog as he stepped away from the door and further into the shadowy motel room. "What else is there to know, River Dog? The FBI is after us, and we're lucky they haven't caught us yet. It's only a matter of time until they do. Maria's sick. Isabel's depressed. Michael is he's in his own world. No one can help him. I can go on. I can go on and on, but it still wouldn't explain the world of damage we've caused."

River Dog bowed his head at the feared exasperation running vibrantly through the young man's voice. He was almost pleading for help. Pleading for someone else to acknowledge the situation was too bad to escape this time.

"I am sorry to tell you this, Max. Your sorrow runs deep, and I fear that I can only add to it this time. But you have inside of you the power to defeat even this obstacle."

"What's happened?"

"It's Roswell. It was reported in local papers as a string of disappearances, but your friend Valenti knows it was the resurrected special unit. They have taken three people in order to lure you back. Your father, Max, is one of them. Amy DeLuca and Liz's mother disappeared a couple of days after."

Max got to his feet, despite the dizzy force that almost made him stumble to the ground. He was lightheaded in shock. "They took our parents?" he shouted, disbelief flooding his words of anger.

"It is a trap."

"I don't care. They can't do this!"

"They believe they're above the laws. Valenti has been trying to find them, but it's unlikely he will succeed without giving the enemy what they're after."

Max clenched his jaw against the sudden dread of knowing their luck might have just run out. "I'll turn myself in if I have to."

The door opened to reveal Liz. Lightning struck down somewhere in the distance, far into the trees behind her, and the sky radiated with hazard white and foreboding purple bouncing off of clouds. The bright light darkened her figure as she stood. "What's going on, Max?"

"We're going back."

"What?" The brunette's eyes grew larger, and her eyebrows wrinkled questioningly. She couldn't be sure she heard him right, but fear told her that she understood perfectly.

"We're going back to Roswell."

***

When Maria awoke, she was lying comfortably in bed. Sheets and blankets tangled around her unflustered body. Prying her eyelids open, she became aware of Michael's arm wrapped roughly around her waist. There was no sunlight filtering through the emaciated curtains of their motel room, but a miniscule glow from the early dawn saturated the room weakly.

Her movements were almost motionless. Her breath non-existent. Noiselessly, she flipped herself over to take him into her view without waking him. She watched intently, forgetting everything else that was the world for the long moments that followed.

Michael's breath was rugged but steady. One arm still draped lazily over her side; the other carelessly pushed up beneath the pillows. His lips were faintly separated, and Maria couldn't resist touching his mouth. She let her slender fingers trace over him, feeling his breath touch her skin. The single noise was his breathing. Everything else was still, unmoving, frozen. Maria was at peace and completely in rapture for what seemed to be only a fleeting moment lost in the vast hole of many consuming, turbulent ones.

And before she willed it to, the moment dissolved. Michael's eyes flashed open, and his body jolted in surprise at the face staring back at him. She watched as the dark, mixed up sensation that emerged from his gaze brought the world back into its place - back into existence. Along with it, came the anxious distress of the night before. The despair Michael had conjured up inside. The stoic intent to make Maria leave him and his battles. The revealing difference now brewing inside of her. Rain and breathlessness. River Dog and thunder. Shocked lightning and blackness.

Maria didn't know what to say. Michael's awkward, hesitant glance through his drowsy eyes told her he didn't know either. But he spoke despite it.

"Are you all right?" he asked quietly. The sleep made his voice rough.

"No," she whispered back.

"You'll be okay soon," he mumbled with resolve, breaking away from his close proximity to her and crossing the room. His words refused to sit well with Maria, but she wouldn't voice her concern.

"What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

"Running. I showed you my hands, and I I." Maria looked up to him with horror. Her full lips separated into a disgusted gape. He stopped looking out the window and tilted his head toward her, listening. His bare chest tightened.

"I hurt you. I touched your face, and you fell back."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I flung you into a wall, Michael!" Maria's alarm showed clearly. She pulled her hands through her hair while the memories replayed themselves for her.

"You didn't hurt me," he reassured, turning to take her in. She was sitting in the center of the bed, her knees bent and supporting her elbows. She was tormented. His own hair was sticking every which way, each wild spike echoing the chaotic night they had been through, but she was beautiful. Even in her sweatpants, a ratty t-shirt, and a tortured storm behind her, she was enchanting.

"I couldn't help it. It just happened. I couldn't control it. I'm sorry."

Michael strode over to her, and he stood in front of the bed with crossed arms over his chest. "Magnify that feeling, Maria. By a thousand. By a million. And then, tell me you don't understand why I think everything bad that's happened to you is my fault."

Maria sighed. She climbed up and trudged to the end of the bed on her knees. Slowly, she took her willowy arms and extended them to touch his skin. Allowing her fingers to travel up and down his chest, she rested her palms on his sides. "Instead of blaming ourselves," she spoke quietly, "maybe we can just help each other get through this."

Michael gazed at her hopeful face with longing. He didn't dare look away from the emerald eyes, knowing that if he did, everything left would be lost. Instead, he concentrated on the glimmer of her skin and her soft hands resting on him. Maybe if he held onto the moment long enough and was patient enough, it would be all right. And although Michael was never a patient person, he knew he had it in him to gather all the patience in the universe if it would help. But he knew it wouldn't help. Nothing could be enough now.

"I have one more chance to make it right."

"Michael. What are you talking about?"

"Do remember seeing River Dog last night?"

"That wasn't just a dream? He's here? He found us?"

Michael's heart slumped down a little more when Maria's hands dropped away, robbing his skin of her intense touch. He closed his eyes and nodded.

"Liz wasn't changed because Max healed her. She's different because she helped save my life in the cave. That's why your hands were glowing, Maria. You entered the Balance too."

"Oh my gawd. All this is because of what we did way back then?"

"Yeah. River Dog explained it all last night after we brought you back. Turns out, Max saving lives doesn't change people. They change by saving my ass."

"Michael."

"I just wish I would have known. I wish I could've stopped it. I didn't want your help back then! And now you should know why. You and Liz and Alex. You were stupid, Maria. Now you've got the scars to prove it. Prove the nightmare I made your life."

"I'm okay, Michael."

"Right now, maybe. Last night, you scared the hell out of me. What about tomorrow/? Or the next day, Maria?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

"Don't be. It isn't your fault."

"Michael. Please. I am begging you. I can't take any more of your guilt over me. This has to come down to one thing, space boy. Trust. You have to trust that I love you. Trust that I don't blame you, because I never even could. I'd do anything for you. Please, just just stop hating yourself."

Her eyes welled up with compassion, and he understood how much she meant her words. She was intoxicating just then. So open and willing. So loving. He adored her and the mistaken love she believed to feel for him. He wanted to take her into his arms and forget absolutely everything. He took in a deep breath, unprepared to hurt her again, but knowing it was inescapable. It always was. "Thank you, Maria," he nodded with the tiniest of smiles. "Know that you've given me more than anyone else ever has. And just know that I'm sorry."

She looked at him strangely, reaching for him again. He pulled away this time, not allowing her to even brush her fingers over him. He walked over to the window again. The sky was lighter. "We're leaving in an hour. We have to go back to Roswell."

"Why? We'll get caught, Michael. We can't go back. Has Max lost his mind?"

"We have to go back because something happened. The FBI took Max's father. And Liz's mother. And they took your mom too, Maria." His tone was dark, regretful, sincerely sorry. He cringed at the gasp she took behind him, struggling to find air.

He spun around when he heard the thud. Maria had gotten tangled up with the sheets in her attempt to jump out of the bed. She fell to her knees. When she didn't move, he went to her. She was crying, trying to grasp the information he had just spat at her.

He put his hand to her shoulder, but she shook it away.

"Maria, we're going to help her. She'll be safe. I promise we're going to get her out fine."

"You can't promise me that."

Silence. One. Two. Three long minutes passed without words. Maria sobbed, and Michael knelt beside her.

"I can't," he finally agreed meekly. "This is my fault."

"Shut up!" she screamed, getting up to her feet. "No more of this broken record blame-me-and-my-alien-tendencies bull shit. I mean it! My mom has been kidnapped by ruthless bastards who will do anything to anyone just to get to you and Max and Isabel. So stop focusing on what this is doing to me. Stop worrying, because I'm stronger than you think I am, pal... But I still need you now. I need you to be strong too, so we can save our parents and try to make things right this one last time, okay? Okay?"

"Okay," Michael said half-heartedly and nodded. Swiftly, Maria pecked him on the cheek. He stood up and walked over to his bag. "We're leaving in an hour."

Maria shook her head in understanding and scurried into the bathroom to get ready. She was strong, he admitted to himself. And she was crazy too. Crazy for glazing over the fact that because of them her mom was in danger now. Crazy for not blaming him and crazy for believing that her determination would be enough to stop the bad guys this time.

Michael sighed heavily. It wouldn't matter. He had this final chance to save Ms. DeLuca and make Maria happy. Safe. If he could pull it off, everyone he loved would be all right when it was all over with, and he was damn sure that was all that mattered to him. He zipped his bag up and slung it carelessly over his shoulder, ready to transfer it back into the van.

Soon, everything would be different. He promised himself it would be, while Maria showered in a rushed preparation to leave, completely ignorant to Michael's fateful plan.