Hi everyone! 

I'm sorry about using the wrong html-codes before, so you had to read between the [i] en [/b] thingies… I'm also posting this fic at Roswellfanatics, and those are the correct html's on that site. I'll try to prevent this from happening in the next chapters, okay? : )

For moonlight angel and those others who asked where Isabel and Alex were, please have patience… Alex is still in Sweden at the moment, and I haven't had any reason to mention Isabel just yet. They will come along in chapter 13 or 14, though…  : )

Thank you all for your wonderful feedback!!!

That's what I'm writing for…

Without further ado… Chapter 12…

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True Colors

Chapter 12

Max looked through the door opening and pushed the door a little further ajar. He was trying to suppress the feelings of hate, jealousy, betrayal and hurt that were fighting to get his attention.

His best friend. His very best friend. His best friend for all of his life.

With Liz…

The girl he had loved for ages. His soulmate. His meant-to-be…

Michael knew how much she meant to him, how much she would always mean to him. How much he loved her, and would always love her.

When Max had first confessed his love for Liz to Michael, Michael had laughed at him, in his face. He had told Max that it wasn't possible and that it could never be. He'd told him that they couldn't be with humans, that it would be too dangerous, and Max had half-heartily agreed with him.

Michael had tried to discourage him, but with no avail. And now Max saw Michael here, tickling his Liz, touching her where he could no longer touch her, making her laugh, whereas all he succeeded in was making her cry. They looked extremely close, and their feelings for each other were pretty obvious. Care, friendship, love…

Max sighed sadly. How could Michael do this to him? Yesterday night, Michael had seemed so determined to reunite Liz with Max, to help him.

And how could Liz do this to him? Or to Maria, for that matter?

He looked up. Liz had won the romp, and was presently pinning Michael to the bed.

Max soooo didn't need to see this, but found himself unable to avert his gaze. Liz looked enticing and incredibly sexy in her flannel pyjamas, heavily breathing for air, with her hair all messed up. A faint blush adorning her lovely face and her eyes already spoke the words of victory before she uttered them.

Max heard Liz's triumphant voice, her words slowly drifting to him, begging him to join her.

"Still so sure about being able to handle me?" he heard Liz ask Michael sarcastically, a lopsided grin matching her words.

Michael mumbled something Max couldn't quite hear, but the tone of his voice was sufficient. Michael admitted that he had been defeated. Max perched his ears.

Michael was admitting his bereavement? Michael?

Something was not right about this; something was really wrong. Michael never admitted to be defeated. Never.

Liz squeezed an apology out of Michael, and when Michael mumbled something inaudible – Max assumed it was an apology – Liz rose off of the bed.

"So…" Max heard her hesitantly ask Michael. "What were you doing here?"

Michael stood up and raked his hand through his hair. "Max wants to see you," he replied. "He's waiting downstairs."

The changes in Liz's facial expressions didn't went unnoticed by Max. He used to be able to read Liz as an open book, but right now he couldn't decide whether it was guilt or hope he saw glimmering in her eyes.

'Of course she feels guilty,' Max wryly thought. 'She deserves to feel guilty,' he told himself. 'Someone has to feel guilty about sleeping with an ex-boyfriend in a drunken fit, and then she goes and has her way with my best friend. She has every right to feel guilty.'

He was trying to convince himself as well as possible, but it didn't work. All his thoughts went out to Liz when he noticed the sadness in her voice. He saw that it hadn't been guilt, nor hope he had seen glistening in her eyes. Tears. She was crying. She was crying because of him once again.

He saw Michael reaching out and comforting Liz, holding her in ways Max could only dream of. Wiping away her tears, soothing her and loving her. Loving her as Max used to do.

"I can't face him, Michael," she whispered.

"Look at me," she said while pointing at herself. "The mere mention of his name already makes me cry. I don't…" she started, and then paused to take a deep breath.

"I can no longer see him, Michael. I can't do this." Liz sighed tiredly, evoking more and more feelings of compassion from both Max and Michael.


"I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to keep this from him…" she said, looking Michael firmly in the eye.

Her words confirmed Max's earlier suggestions and thoughts. 'Guilt', he told himself.

Instead of being happy because she was supposed to feel guilty, he felt guilty himself. Guilty for being the one who made her feel guilty, guilty for making her cry. Guilty for not being good enough for her. It was ridiculous, he knew that, but he couldn't help it.

He remained deeply, madly and hopelessly in love with Liz, despite of what his common sense told him. His heart begged reason with his head, while his head chastised his heart for its weakness. His internal dilemma drove him crazy, and in order to escape the turmoil that was his feelings, he took a step forward. A step towards Michael and Liz, a step closer to his deem. He suddenly felt the need to expose himself, to let them knew he was there, that he knew.

Both of tem looked up surprised when he entered the room, their discomfort etched on their faces.

"Max…" Liz softly whispered, her voice resounding in the previously silent room, her voice sounding like a plea to him.

Max ignored the feelings she stirred in him, the way she encouraged the turmoil to move harder, faster. The way she ignited a fire inside of him, burning for her, just for her, burning to never be extinguished.

Max ignored it all, and angrily eyed Michael, who was currently nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. The thought that he had never seen Michael so nervous came to Max's mind, but evaporated as fast as snow dissolving in a blazing sun when Michael spoke to him.

"I told you to stay downstairs till I got back, Maxwell."

Max scratched behind his left ear and narrowed his eyes.

"I waited, Michael," he responded. "I waited for five minutes."

Michael balled his fists, and on his turn, he also narrowed his eyes.

"What did you hear?" he roared, unconsciously placing himself in front of Liz, nearly blocking her from Max's sight.

"Enough," Max replied. "I know, Michael." He helplessly looked at Liz. "I just don't understand…" Shifting his gaze between Michael and Liz, he asked the question that was really bothering him.

"How long has this been going on?"

Liz looked down at the floor, her hands nervously pushing a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear.

Max gazed at Michael. "I trusted you, Michael," he accused him. "I trusted you with my life. I thought you were my friend, but friends don't do these things to each other. A friend doesn't have a relation with the girl he knows his friend loves. Friends just don't do such things, Michael."

The calm and emotionless tone of his voice even surprised himself. Sure, the betrayal was audible, but the anger and the jealousy were securely hidden under layers and layers of calmness and coolness.

The confused and not understanding looks on Michael and Liz's faces confused Max. Hadn't he been clear? He was confident that he had made his point very clearly. Should he spell it out to them? They weren't that dense, now where they?

Obviously they were.

Both of them were gaping at him, looking at him as if he just told them he was an alien.

"What do you mean?" Michael groggily asked him.

Max furrowed his brow and shook his head. What did Michael mean?

Suddenly, Michael's face lit up with understanding as realization finally started to dawn on him.

"Wait a sec. You didn't think that we," he said, pointing at himself and Liz, "were together, now did you?" he asked, smirking at the mere thought of it.

"You know," he elucidated his earlier words, "as in together 'together'?"

Max was surprised by the look of relief on Michael's face, and the one of disappointment on Liz's.

Michael laughed out loud, but Max couldn't see the humor in all of it.

Michael laughed even harder at the look of puzzlement on Max's face and walked over to him. He put his arm around his friend and tried to explain things.

"Maxwell…" he began, "Dude… You didn't really think…" He laughingly shook his head. "I can't believe that you even considered it, that you seriously thought about it…"

Max shrugged Michael's arm off his shoulders and tried to dissolve the fog in his head by shaking it a few times. He had tons of feelings at the moment, but confusion was definitely dominating all of them.

If Michael and Liz weren't together, then why were they so close? What caused the guilt, the disappointment and the relief to appear on their faces? What were they keeping from him?

"What's going on between you and Liz?" he voiced his thoughts, uncertain of his place in this play.

Michael shrugged once. "I just recently realized how I felt for her…" he simply stated.

Max broke him off. "But I thought you just said that you weren't…"

Michael quickly cut him short this time. "I care for her, yes, and I love her, but as a sister." He smiled. "She's like Isabel to me, Max," he explained.

"Like a sister?" Max asked him in disbelief. "Why?" he wanted to know. "Since when?" he asked Michael clueless.

Michael grinned at him and somehow, his smile seemed a sort of wistful thought.

"Since yesterday," Michael answered him, remorseful. "I was too afraid to feel before then. I liked Liz, but I wasn't willing to admit that I cared for her, that I loved her."

"You are, now?" Max sceptically asked him.

Michael nodded, confident of himself. "Yes, I am," he said, an authority in his voice that Max hadn't heard before, not even in their daily differences of opinion.

"I am," Michael said again. "I love Liz, she is my sister."

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Please tell me what you thought about this chapter… Pretty please? Like I said before, any form of review is welcome… including flames… I like kind fb better, though… ; )