Part 15
Amy glanced over at the sleeping girl resting beside her in the front seat of their tired Jetta. It had been pushed beyond its limits again today, driving them 8 hours across New Mexico into the state of Arizona. They were approaching Lupton, a near-halfway point between Roswell and Henderson and, more importantly, just past the New Mexico border, a state that Jim wouldn't risk taking the FBI-sought teens back into. He also wanted them to be as close to their still grieving parents as possible; they hadn't been notified yet, their children still too weak from their ordeal to handle an emotional reunion, but in a few days there was little doubt that Liz, Isabel, and Max would be scrambling to fall into their parent's arms again.
Amy sighed as she focused her attention back on the unfamiliar route markers and made a final turn onto the dirt road Jim had instructed her to take. She agreed with him that forcing the weakened teens back into their former lives so quickly was a bad idea, yet here she was driving her own daughter, only 24 hours out of her own ordeal, into what would doubtlessly be the emotional event of the century. Maria had barely been able to keep her head up as she mumbled her arguments to Amy that she was making the trip with or without her mother's accompaniment, the stubborn streak obviously not lessened by her journey inside her own mind.
She still didn't understand exactly what Maria had been through in the past year; the only explanation she had gotten was from Michael, the sleeping girl beside her doing just that since she had returned—sleep. Amy had a plethora of questions running through her head that she needed answers to, but had seen in Maria's exhausted eyes that she needed only one thing to bring her back to full health—to know that her friends, and especially her love, were okay.
It was with that resolution that Amy looked at the gravel road stretching out before them now. Five bumpy miles later, she pulled up outside the authentic log cabin. Staring at the impressive structure somehow out of place in the middle of the surrounding forest, she said a silent thank you to Deputy Hansen for craving the solitude of Mother Nature and building this place a few years ago. He knew only scant details of Jim's venture across two states on a matter not exactly classified as 'official police business', but had been a willing aide in lending any assistance he could. One phone call and he had readily lent his sanctuary to the Deluca/Valenti duo for what they were calling a spontaneous vacation. Amy had to laugh at that, the first weekend either of them had spent away from Roswell since the supposed tragedy that had halted their lives, and it was to put the entire trial behind them and turn down a brand new path of happiness. It was a little much to take so quickly,
Reaching out to hover her hand over Maria's leg, she jerked slightly at the sight of her daughter's eyes blinking open without prodding, still finding herself shocked at signs of life running through the waif-thin body.
"Hi there," the smiling mother said softly to her daughter.
"Hey!" Maria responded brightly, reaching up over her head with her arms to stretch languidly. "Ahh, I feel great," she exclaimed. "How long did I sleep?"
"The whole way, 8 hours."
"Jeez, you wouldn't think lying in a bed would make you so tired," she remarked casually, looking out the car window at the looming structure in front of them.
Amy couldn't hide the frown that flitted across her features at the reminder of where her daughter had spent the last year and it did not go unnoticed by Maria.
She reached her hand out to lay a reassuring touch on her mother's arm. "I'm okay now, really," she said softly.
"It was just so hard…" Amy said, her words trailing off as her voice caught in her throat.
"I know," Maria replied. "I mean, I heard you, everything that you said, I just… I just wasn't ready to come back until now."
"And you wouldn't have if he didn't come?"
"Probably not," she answered truthfully.
Amy nodded slowly at her daughter's admission—at least it was honest, even if it was hard to listen to. "I have a lot of questions," she said quietly.
"I know, and I'll answer them, I promise. Just first…" she said thoughtfully, turning her head to look at the cabin again. "First I think I have to answer a few questions for someone else."
Without a further word, Amy smiled and turned to push open the door of the air-conditioned vehicle. Air that hadn't felt a whisper of wind in months, pressed down upon their bodies heavily, seeping its sand-filled way into their pores, taking up molasses-thick residence in their lungs. Maria leaned heavily on the car as the sudden change in atmosphere physically stalled her. Amy watched worriedly at her daughter's weakness and hurried around the car to grasp her shoulder.
"Take it easy," she cautioned, the anxiety in her voice obvious.
"Mom," Maria sighed. "I'm fine… really."
"You're not fine Maria. You were sick, you're still weak."
"No," she said gently, looking up at her mother with a smile on her face. She took a deep breath as she stood up straight and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I actually feel better than I have in years, I think… I think Michael may have left a little something behind when he was here."
"What?"
"I'll explain later," Maria said smiling, looking ahead at the log cabin where her present-tense love lay waiting. "First I'm going to share this with him."
~~~~~
Maria pushed open the solid wood door to the bedroom, peering inside at the faint outline of a figure on the bed. The room was dim, lit only by the final rays of sunshine creeping around the edges of the dusty blind hanging in the lone window. She quietly pushed the door shut behind her, carefully not to make any noise to wake the object of her attention. She wasn't ready for him to be awake just yet—she needed a moment to force her brain into active duty before she could attempt to face him.
Crossing the room, she paused by the side of the quilt-covered mattress, a small smile playing on her face as she stared down at the sleeping boy. She had been cautioned that he would be exhausted, the combination of lingering drugs in his system and the abhorrent physical injury he suffered ensuring that he should sleep for a few more hours yet; Maria smiled as she knew that he would awaken far sooner than a few hours. His chest was heavily swathed in thick white gauze, the injury that she had healed for him only days before still weeping blood on this model. The diagonal trail of red seeping through the bandage revealed that the scar the older Michael had most feared had been caused again in this world, his saving efforts just a little too late to prevent that travesty.
"Doesn't matter," she murmured as she gently lowered herself to his side. "We'll fix it."
At the sound of her voice, or perhaps it was just her continued presence in the room sinking into his altered state of consciousness, his eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing in on her hovering over him.
Maria stared into the eyes of the boy she had only just seen the aged version of. His face was free of the lines of agony he carried with him in the future, his hair just a little longer than normal but still recognizable as his. All in all, he looked just like the future version of himself with one glaring exception—the eyes. When Michael had returned to her, he had brought with him the torment of five souls, bearing the individual agonies suffered by each one of the Antarian prisoners, each death a garish black mark on his suffered soul. Now, peering into the coffee-colored depths, she smiled as she realized that these eyes had witnessed only a fragment of the horror he had been forced to endure; their light still shining with a brilliance that had once been destined to be extinguished.
"Welcome back," she whispered, her stomach clenching as she forced herself not to cry, not yet.
"What…" he mumbled, his face showing his obvious confusion at his surroundings.
"It's okay," she soothed hurriedly. "You're safe. You are all safe. He… you were rescued."
"Rescued? I don't… we were…"
"Shh, don't," she reassured him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder as she willed herself to be calm. "I'll explain everything later, first you should just rest."
"No, I… you weren't supposed to be there?" His words started with confused mumblings and escalated quickly to panic as he tried to formulate how the girl he had never let far from his thoughts while imprisoned was sitting beside him now. Michael reached out to tightly grab the hand she rested on him, "Did he…"
"No, no," Maria rushed to explain, cursing that she was only causing him further pain instead of the reassurance she strove for. "Kivar captured you, the five of you, but not me. I was… I was back in Roswell."
"Safe?"
She shrugged, her eyes flitting away from his as she paused just a second before responding, "Safe."
"Maria."
"Michael please," she pleaded, turning back to him as she plastered a smile on her face for his benefit. "I'm fine, really. You have to worry about yourself right now, get better."
His body was tensed on the bed, turned slightly towards her as he asked his fervent questions. Now, slightly comforted by her words, he relaxed, sinking back towards the mattress as his pectorals flexed and the snaking wound instantly spread fire throughout his torso. He convulsed against the bed in agony, cursing beneath his breath as his hands gripped uselessly at the bandage.
"F-uck, it… it burns," he muttered, curling on his side to try and ease the jagged needles piecing his skin. "Can Max…"
"I think that could be a little difficult," she responded, interpreting his question and wincing as she watched the obvious pain displayed on his face.
"Why? What's wrong with him?" he asked worriedly.
"No, no," she hurried. "He's fine, just still sleeping off the drugs. I think you all need a few days to get over them."
"Is anyone else hurt?"
"A little," she confirmed.
"Sh-it. If he tries to heal all of us it's going to take him weeks to get better."
"I might have a solution for that," she offered gently, observing the confused gaze from Michael as she cleared her throat lightly. Before he could give voice to his question, she added, "Let's just say I have a story that you are probably not going to believe and… well this may just give you proof."
Maria reached for the medical kit still lying on the bedside table, opening it to retrieve a pair of scissors. Gently, careful not to cause him further pain, she snipped open the gauze Jim had somehow wrapped around his torso, peeling it back slowly to reveal the full extent of his injury. It was uglier that she could have ever imagined, the bloody wound a mix of half-healed lesions and fresh knife trails curving across half of his chest, obviously being carved over a period of time.
"Bastard," she growled under her breath.
Michael watched as her face grimaced at the sight of his injury, unable to move his eyes from her face to examine it himself. With a tinge of surprise trickling through him, he realized that he felt no pain from the injury just now, the implication of just being in her presence finally settling over him.
"We're both… safe?" he whispered, earning a sympathetic glance from her that he found himself not minding at all.
"We're safe," she echoed, tearing her eyes away from his quickly to prevent the damn of tears she was holding back from breaking.
This time he let his gaze follow hers, landing on the crimson destruction spread across his chest. "Oh God," he breathed softly, examining the injury that had been a blind source of pain for him until now.
"It's not as bad as it was," she said without thinking, biting her lip as she realized she was not handling her status as 'keeper-of-the-secret' too well.
"But, how could you…"
"Look at me," she commanded, pushing aside her nervousness at how to explain the unbelievable journey the future version of this boy had taken for all of them. Right now she had to try returning him to full health, laying her story on top of his already tortured mind would only serve to cause him additional pain. "I'm not really sure," she mumbled, flitting her eyes along his body and face until they met up with his staring directly at her. "I think… I think I just concen…"
Without effort, Maria fell into the vat of torture that Michael had occupied for a full year, her body immediately revolting against the implied agony as her mind took her on a journey through his memories, every exploratory incision slicing into her own skin, each truth-serum investigative session pulling secrets from her own mind to the surface. She tumbled through his world of pain, unable to orient herself in any meaningful direction or heal his injuries in any straight-forward fashion. The imagined abuse afflicted on her body left her panting as she finally, mercifully stumbled to a stop somewhere inside his chamber of thoughts. Looking up, she saw a shimmering gold light before her, her entire being drawn to it unconsciously. She walked across the velvet soft sand sifting beneath her feet, realizing with awe that she was in some sort of cavern, lit only by the brilliant glow in front of her. Reaching it, she stopped, peering through the blinding stardust as she watched a figure step slowly towards her.
"How did you do that?" Michael asked, revealing himself from the golden shroud to stand over her.
"I just… I just jumped," she mumbled slowly, her mind still reeling from its trip down the rabbit-hole of horror, her brain attempting to comprehend how she landed in this Michael Wonderland.
"Not Wonderland," he answered softly, reading her thoughts with ease. "Just me."
"But this…"
"This is what I see in you every time; the very core where your soul lives. It's green," he added, smiling as he watched her looked down at herself to see the edges of his gold-dusted aura meeting and mingling with the emerald hues of her own.
"I'm… I'm green?"
She raised her head again to meet his radiant gaze, her hands reaching out to touch his now perfectly healed chest, her face showing her awe at the miraculous discovery she had unearthed deep inside him. She smiled as she realized that all the pain she had felt at her travels through his experiences had suddenly vanished, replaced with the warm wave of knowledge that flowed from him into her. The images now running through her mind were still painful to witness, but with his obviously safe presence standing before her, she was able to take them for what they were—just memories.
As she smiled at the stark contrast between the pain he had suffered and the peace he now exuded, she watched his face fade from a contented gaze to a confused grimace. She felt her mind unwillingly return to thoughts of her life over the past year and quickly tried to pull away from him, his hand snapping up to adhere hers back to his body. His eyes locked with hers, her head unable to turn away as she felt her secrets escape the protective cocoon she housed them in, surging through her veins into his, his expression falling into the depths of disbelief as he took in the full story of her suffering.
"You were… you weren't safe," he gasped, nearly losing his balance as he faltered at the torture she had brought on herself.
"Wait," she murmured softly, the small part of her mind that she still controlled fighting to fast-forward through the pain she knew she had to share, to get to the happy ending she hoped he would cherish as much as she did, pushing images of his heroic rescue of both her and him into his weakening spirit.
Still gripping her hand tightly, Michael sunk to the imagined floor of the inner sanctum, pulling her down beside him as the sights of his future self entered his mind, the story playing out before his eyes unbelievingly. Maria watched him carefully to gauge if the knowledge was too much for him to receive at once, knowing at the same time that she was powerless to stop him from learning it and believing that he did have to know no matter how difficult. She placed her free hand beside his face, caressing his cheek gently as his shocked expression faded into slight understanding, the questions forming on his face answered with each new pulse of information entering his brain.
Finally, when he had painted a tentative look of acceptance on his features, she knew that he had received enough information and tore her hand free from his hold. No words passed between the reunited couple as Maria waited for him to speak first, knowing that he needed to process the newly garnered facts at his own pace.
His eyes never left hers as his mind sorted through the jumbled facts rolling through his head. A small tear formed in the corner of his eye without warning, slipping from its resting place before he could stop it as he whispered, "I came back?"
"Yes," she gasped, choking back her own tears at the sight of anguish mixed with relief evident on his face. "And you were so brave."
"I just… I don't…" he mumbled, still unable to fully believe what she had shown him.
"It's all true. You came back to prevent it, but you ended up saving me and everyone else before sacrificing yourself. It was selfless, Michael."
Staring at her face, he couldn't stand to witness her exquisite features hovering so close to him without contact for one moment longer. Grabbing her to his body roughly, he covered her mouth with his, pouring all of the lingering torment and newly derived passion into her body. She told the story as if it had been him alone that saved her, but in sharing her information she had been unable to hide the memories of his future self that had somehow remained locked inside her. Michael saw every thought process he was destined to have on the lifeline that would now never happen, learning the means by which he had recaptured his powers, along with countless new tricks, and the impetus that had driven him to do so—her. She would probably never be able to completely understand how it was the love she had so readily given him in their years together that had stood him through the endless days of torture on the far away planet. The knowledge that he was special, cared for… loved, was what had finally stirred him into taking control of his pathetic existence in their prison and breaking out to come back and prevent the entire thing.
It was from within himself that he first found the strength to make his incredible journey and then from within her that he fought for her rescue. Now, their connection fading as they ended the sharing of stories, they each reveled in the knowledge that they had finally found their peace, from within the other.
"All from within," he murmured, opening his eyes to see them back in the bedroom of the tiny log cabin, tangled in each other's arms on the ancient bed.