[b] Part Two [/b]
Maria Deluca punched her index finger on the large orange button and stared down at the steaming brown liquid that was trickling vociferously into the white Styrofoam cup. She wrinkled her pert nose and raised the freshly filled cup to her pink hued lips. Gagging after the first sip, her olive eyes crinkled as she grimaced.
"Just once," she muttered to herself, "Just once I would like to find ONE thing in this hospital that could be even remotely considered edible." She sighed loudly and spun back around towards the dimly lit hallway, grumbling randomly as she went and nursing the grotesque liquid occasionally.
"Honestly, is it like some sort of LAW that no hospital can produce even just ONE semi normal cup of coffee? I mean yea, sure, I can understand that they can't always help it if the daily special is ruined but coffee? It's really not that hard, you just add water and then - "
Someone behind her grabbed her arm. "Maria,"
Screaming, she whirled around, arms and coffee failing, both of which landed on poor, unwitting.
"Michael!" Maria shrieked. "God! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?!" She promptly smacked him again.
Michael Guerin sighed in exasperation and scrubbed fruitlessly at the large brown stain seeping into his shirt. Finally realizing that it was hopeless, he rolled his eyes and met Maria's expectant and irritated gaze. "I didn't sneak up on you," he grunted simply.
Maria sputtered and crossed her arms in a 'yea-right-go-on-you-tell-such- amusing-stories' type of way.
Michael arched an eyebrow at her and went on. "I called your name way back there but you were too busy babbling to yourself to notice."
"I wasn't babbling, I was lamenting the day I ever set foot in this hellhole where they ironically try and save you only to try and poison you later with coffee that could unclog a hairy drain!" She was babbling. She knew it. But she had to fill up space with SOMETHING, otherwise she would be left alone with her troubled thoughts. And that wasn't something she was prepared to confront right now. Maybe not ever. Because is she thought about how Liz might never wake up, then she didn't know what she would do with herself. She would be lost, bewildered, and.
The spasm of pain that flitted across Maria's face did not go unnoticed by Michael. He tentatively touched her arm again. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
Dragging in a shaky breath, Maria nodded. "It's just." she paused, struggling for the right words, "It's just so damn HARD."
Michael's brow furrowed. "What's so hard? Life? Classes? Your job? ..This?" He gestured to the hallway.
Maria flipped her blonde locks over her shoulder. "Yea. [I]This.[/I]. It's so arduous going in to see her now." She stopped and gave a hollow laugh, devoid of any mirth. "Well, it's always hard to go in there not knowing whether or not." She broke off and perused the discolored white-ish walls as if they were the most interesting things since indoor pluming. She hoped Michael did not notice the sheen of unshed tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. She hated crying. Hated feeling WEAK, hated feeling helpless to do anything. And whenever she set foot in here she felt like all three.
"I know." Michael squeezed her arm, his dark eyes sympathetic and understanding. "I know."
Maria lugged in another shuddering breath of air. "And now.now its WORSE, knowing what Max told us his 'news,'" She seemed incapable of even speaking it aloud, as if not saying it would make it less real. "It seems like now that's it. Like now that Max has finally given up and moved on that its never going to happen. Like I should just stop holding on and stop HOPING like some pathetic."
"Hey," Michael cut in, his voice rough. "You are NOT pathetic, and there is nothing wrong with hoping. Anything's possible. I mean, hell, WE ended up together and pretty much STAYED together, so that's full proof of it," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Maria's face softened and she gave a choked laugh. He was right, fundamentally of course, but what he said was true. They had pulled together through the bumpy, twisting ride. And it had been mostly thanks to Liz. She was the one who was there giving Maria the boost of confidence and determination to tackle Michael's stonewall, and she had been the one to give Michael little helpful hints as to make it up to Maria. And it had been Max himself who had helped Maria aid Michael become emancipated during the time when the truth came out about Michael's abusive foster father. Maria grimaced at the memory of that god-awful man. But then, she have to thank Hank for one thing. It had been that horrid night when Michael finally allowed himself to open up to Maria, in every possible, in every way that he had been frightened of his whole life. Their relationship had been considerably strong afterwards, but it wasn't until the accident that Michael really proved what a dependable person he could be. He had held her hand throughout the entire poignant, angst ridden time, yet done so without smothering her. What would she have done without Michael? It was a rhetorical question she asked herself everyday, knowing fully well the answer - she wouldn't have.
She smiled up at him. "Wow. Look at you all mature all of a sudden. Have you been watching Oprah or something?"
Michael smirked. "Keeps me in touch with my feminine side."
"Riiiiight," Maria drawled, her green eyes glittering with amusement before getting serious. "I mean, you didn't even BLINK when Max told us his news this morning." Her voice drifted off as she watched a flash of guilt run through Michael's features. "Michael?" Her tone carried a bit of an edge now, suspicious edge.
"Uhh, yea.?" Michael asked innocuously.
Maria's only response was to narrow her eyes to slits.
Michael shot a hasty glance down the hallway. "Um, we should, you know, get going before, uh, visiting hours are ov-"
"MICHAEL." The sound of his name being spoken with such demanding fervor caused him to jump slightly.
"This morning wasn't the first time you heard Max's 'news,'" she said slowly and deliberately, throwing up air quotes, "Was it."
Michael gulped. Busted. "He uh, he told me, uhm, sometime last week."
He winced as her rage fell expectantly upon him. "He WHAT? And you didn't TELL me? Argh! God, Michael! Is there a reason you kept this from me? I thought we were past the whole secrecy thing and forward on the motto that 'secrets secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone,' but obviously not. Honestly, why do you do this to me? Do you know how it felt when he just."
Michael heaved a sigh and gnashed his fingers into his scalp. "Maria please. Let's not do this here. Let's just go see Liz."
She clapped her mouth shut but glowered at her significant other (definitely NOT her better half), seeing through his means to thwart her anger until another time when it had simmered for a while. Eventually she softened, her anger melting into sorrow at the thought of her former best friend.
Former. Oh, God, now she was thinking of her in the past tense. Tears itched her eyes at the thought, which she jerked away from. No. She would not go there. Would not go as far as Max had, to a point of no return, a point of dashed, derelict hope.
The two made their way to the room in silence, their echoing footsteps resounding through the spacious hall, the noise following them like a shadow. Once they reached the desired destination, Maria's hand shot out to grip Michael's, which had been reaching for the doorknob.
"Wait."
Michael dropped his hand and turned it over to lace his with her fingers. He merely looked at her bemusedly, complying to her request, neither questioning, nor commenting on it. He just simply waited.
"I just." Maria blew a puff of air upwards, effectively tossing a wayward strand of gold up from her forehead. "I just need a minute." What she was steeling herself for, she didn't know. All she knew was that she needed a moment to process her thoughts, to contemplate Max's decision and what it meant for Liz. She needed to have a clear head when she went in there. Liz didn't need a blubbering, feeble Maria in there, no matter the state of her unconsciousness. No, Maria needed to be strong, needed to be pushing her to wake.but most of all Maria needed to be like Liz [I]herself[/I] would be in such a situation.
A minute ran its course, and Maria lessened her tight clutch on Michael's hand. She was ready, or as ready as she would ever be.
"Okay." She told him, and he opened the door.
Apparently Maria should have taken another minute to ready herself, as the sight that they were met with took away all though, all rationale, all tranquility, and Maria Deluca screamed aloud.
"Oh My God!"
The startled russet hues of Liz Parker's eyes snapped to the doorway, the piercing depths charged with confusion, trepidation, and.vitality. She was awake. And that set off a whole new world of complications and complexities.
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Michael stopped cold at the sight of Liz Parker's eyes. Now there was something he hadn't been sure he would ever see again. But there she was. It was LIZ after all. Pulling through as always, and as Michael suspected she would. It was about friggin time too. Max was definitely going to.
Oh God. Max. Tess. The whole warped thing.
Suddenly Michael's head hurt and pounded with the mother of all headaches. How the hell were they supposed to push through that mess? Silently Michael fumed at Max. This was going to kill Liz, and Maria was going to kill Max. That is if Alex didn't beat him to it.
Alex. Isabel. They were going to freak out. Michael could still hear Alex's grim voice as he asked Max what the hell he was thinking, and Isabel downcast eyes when Max had told them this morning. And it certainly hadn't helped that Maria had managed to convert Alex to her blind hatred of Liz's replacement (or Tess was more [I]fondly[/I] referred as). Michael didn't see what Maria's problem was. Sure, she was moving in on where Liz used to stand, but other than that, she seemed like a nice enough girl. To him at least. To Maria, she was a skanky manipulative chipmunk (direct quote by the way, not his).
Technically it was all Michael's fault. He shouldn't have allowed Max to even consider it. He should have reminded him of Liz's inert form lying on a hospital bed when Max had first pondered aloud the very idea some weeks ago and confided in him.
Sick dread and unfathomable compunction twisted his insides as Michael imagined the looks upon everyone's faces. As he imagined the look that was most likely etched upon his own face.
But then, what else was Max supposed to do, considering the circumstances? Wait around for something that might never happen? Why should Max have to suffer alone, grasping onto what ifs and intangible maybes? Did he really do anything wrong?
Michael's eyes fluttered shut. This was too much. A brain overload of confusion, misconceptions and speculations.
On that note though, why did he CARE so much? It theoretically wasn't his problem. Why was he getting all knotted up about it?
The truth of the matter was that he DID care. And for good reason. These people were his friends - the only family, the only compassion he had ever known. It would be callous of him not to feel anxiety about it. For although he had only really known Liz Parker for seven months those years ago, he was certain that she would have done the same for any of them. And the fact that without her, their tight knit group - their close family of friends - fell apart gave Michael all the more reason to stand by her, to allow his emotions to be invested in this.
For he was. And he would continue to be a part of this mini drama - no matter how insignificant his role - until it was resolved somewhat.
And right now it was far from that.
Michael snapped out of his musing to witness Maria break off from the bone crushing hug in which she had just incarcerated Liz in after crying out and brushing away joyous tears.
"Oh Lizzie! I can't tell you how glad I am that you're awake! You cant imagine how much we've missed you!"
Immediately Michael felt extremely foolish and irritated with himself. Here he was fretting about the imminent future and not acknowledging the phenomenon in front of him. That was what always choked him in the past. He had always been so focused in getting away from Hank, in fighting impatiently for the future that he never stopped to enjoy the present. It had almost cost him Maria, and he firmly refused to let that age-old flaw inhibit this moment.
Striding over to Liz's pale form, he gently laid a kiss on her cheek. "Hey," was all he said, but his tone conveyed so much more.
Liz's face with stamped with bemusement. "Uh, hey," she croaked, her voice scratchy and thick from disuse. "What's going on? Why am I in the hospital?" Liz attempted to shift her body out of the bed, and her face scrunched up with panic. "Oh my God! Maria! Why cant I move my legs!?"
Maria winced, thinking back to the doctors warning that, if she pulled out of the coma at all, Liz would be faced with several liabilities, including paralysis. She also remembered the doctors forewarning that Liz would most likely not remember much from that day. Well, that is that's what the doctors thought in the beginning. After Liz hit the two-week mark, still trapped inside her mind, the doctors had had little hope that this day would ever come. But the Parker's had refused to pull the plug, and only wavered slightly afterward.
Michael knew that Maria had also clung onto the fact that Liz would fight it, and break through. It was in Parker's nature after-all. And now.now it looked like they got their miracle after all.
"Do you remember anything before this.about the accident?" Maria decided to go a round about way of answering Liz's questions, trying to determine how much the frail girl knew before she dumped everything on Liz at once.
Liz's face screwed in contemplation. "Max was taking me out for our anniversary, we ate, we.ah." At this Liz blushed slightly. Michael's animosity positively burned in his stomach now. Max and Liz had. And then Max went off and did what he did. Granted sufficient enough amount of time had gone by but still. This just kept getting better and better didn't it.
Liz cleared her throat. "Ah, anyways. Then he drove me home and." She gasped, the sharp sound of the air sucking in her voice caused Michael's heart to lurch. Liz turned her wide, tan eyes to the two of them.
"Oh my God! The car! Max!" Liz shoved away her covers as if to bolt up for the door, only to fall back on her pillow, tears of anger streaking her lovely face when she remembered. She moved her imploring face towards Michael. "Where is he?" She whispered, almost afraid to speak any louder, fearing the worst. "Oh God. He's all right, right?"
Michael huffed. "Oh believe me Liz. Maxwell is fine and dandy."
Maria shot Michael with a dirty look, one that reeked of caveat, and tried to coax Liz's attention away from that particular subject. Michael noted though, that her teeth were clenched, as they always were when she was angry.
"So you remember the accident?" Maria instantly flinched once the question was out of her mouth. Like Liz really needed to be reminded of it.
Liz nodded. "I guess I didn't get off so easy," she reflected, glancing ruefully at her stationary legs and the feeding tube in her arm. Her gaze fell upon a strange looking contraption to the side of her bed. "What's that?"
Again Maria flinched, and Michael knew why. She hated that thing and the fact that Liz couldn't do it alone. Maria despised coming in to visit Liz to find her sprawled on her stomach. She complained that it made her look inhuman.like a doll that fell over. Michael had to agree.
"It's um, a machine that flips you from your back to your stomach and then back again," Maria clarified. "So you don't.get bed sores from laying in one spot for too long."
Michael held his breath, wondering if Liz would decode that statement and realize just how serious the ramifications of the accident had been on her.
"What do you mean," Liz asked slowly, dubiously. "I can't have been knocked out for that long.could I?"
Michael sighed and glanced at Maria. She was biting her lip, apparently trying hard not to cry. "Lizzie," She answered. "Right now its August."
Liz scoffed. "So? It was August when the accident happened."
Maria shook her head, her green eyes glittering. "No. Liz," she hesitated. "Liz, it's August.August 2005."
For a moment, the room was dead silent, nothing but a dull buzzing wafted faintly through their ears. Then Liz spoke. "Wha-What?" Her breathing picked up, as did the monitor supervising her heart rate. Her eyes widened with awareness "But that would mean."
Maria nodded. "You've been in a coma for three years." Even though Maria had accepted it, saying the words aloud still felt like a knife sliding out of her throat.
Liz covered her face in her hands and she gave a strangled cry. After composing herself somewhat she jerked her head forward with such vehemence that Michael balked. Subsequently she inquired the exact information that Michael had been dreading to tell her. And the funny thing was that she looked straight at Michael the entire time.
"Where's Max? Why isn't he here? Were you lying when you said he was all right?" Her voice glinted with steel and bit the room's atmosphere.
Michael gulped and refused to meet Liz's gaze. Maybe it would be best if they didn't tell her. Not yet. Not while she was obviously still in shock and reeling from the aforementioned news.
But then, if it were him, he would want to know. It wouldn't be fair to Liz to keep this from her, especially when she asked him straight out. So it was with candid unwavering directness that Michael locked eyes with Liz and told her.
"Max is engaged, Liz."
Maria gasped and reached over to smack Michael upside the head. "I can't believe you just did that!" she hissed.
Michael glowered at her, massaging his scalp, and hissed back, "She had to find out sometime? Why prolong it when it would just hurt more in the end?" It was like a band-aid. You had to rip it off fast and deal with the pain all at once. Everyone knew it was much worse to tug it off little by little, bit by bit, protracting the hurt.
But as Michael took in Liz's shocked and stricken expression, he had a feeling that this particular band-aid wasn't going to be as easy as discarding, even though it had been torn off with astonishingly rapid speed.
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Max Evans picked up the larger of the two cardboard boxes and manipulated the protruding flaps so that they effectively closed shut. He ambled over to the closet and lifted his arms up to place the box carefully on the top shelf.
And stopped.
Could he really just pack everything away, to bury deep all the memories and move on? It wasn't like he would ever be able to forget.
But he had to. For Tess's sake.
Ah, Tess. The reason for moving on. He had met her at one of his father's work parties, her being the daughter of some prominent lawyer at an similar firm, and Phillip had eagerly pushed the two together. It had been a year and a half after the accident, and Max had finally begun to do things other than wallow in despair, locked inside his room. He had even forced himself to go through the motions of attending a semester of classes at Stanford, his father urging him not to waste another semester on "personal leave."
As it turned out, Tess went to Stanford as well, and she sought him out numerous times. He hadn't been looking for a relationship at all, not even friendship, so at first he was a bit cold to Tess. But she kept coming back, speaking words of encouragement and support in his ear, saying she would always be there for him, in whatever way he wanted her to be. Adding that with Phillips coaxing Max to give Tess a shot, Max found himself seeking solitude in her presence, telling her everything he had kept bottled up since the accident, about how much he loved Liz, how guilty and stricken he felt, and finally, about his growing despair that she would never wake up.
He remembered the day when he lost it. He had been sitting by Liz's side, watching her sit motionless, her face preserved in severe beauty. Max remembered thinking that this was all wrong. That Liz had never looked so serious in life. In life she had been happy, smiling, gazing at him with love.
And that's when it hit him. [I]IN LIFE[/I] She wasn't alive, and yet she wasn't dead. And without her, neither was Max. They were both stuck, trapped in a horrifying limbo, with no light to lead them out.
Phillip had come to the hospital that day, which had been most surprising. One, being that Phillip hated hospitals (Diane having died in one), and two, being that he and Liz had never gotten along. Phillip had never really approved of Max and Liz's relationship, for reasons beyond Max's comprehension.
Max's father had touched him gently on the shoulder, and told Max that he couldn't keep wasting his life waiting around for the past to come back. That it was what Liz would have wanted. That he had to move on for his own sake, and sanity.
At first Max had been extremely angry with Phillip, outraged that he would talk as if Liz were dead, and even suggest that he move on. But over the next two years, he found his hope ebbing away, along with his devotion. Just barely a year ago Max consented to Tess's hints that they take their friendship to something more, and a couple of days ago, after having another 'seize the moment, don't live in the past' talks with his father, and mentioning the idea to Michael, Max proposed to Tess last night.
Max sighed and the box above his head quivered in sync with his body.
For his own sake, and sanity. His father was right. He couldn't keep living like this. Stuck in the past. Waiting for something that would just never happen.
Yet, he found his arms still motionless in the air, the box full of Liz memorabilia hanging in the balance. He let his arms sag, and he dropped back onto the bed in the room of his childhood, being that he spent his summers at home, working at his father's firm. He let his index finger gently trace the top, and a torrent of nostalgia crushed his body.
True Tess could never be Liz. But at this point, she was as close as he was ever going to be to happy again. He had to do it. He had to let go.
But as he stood up to finish the job of packing away the boxes, Max hesitated one last time. Before he even thought about what he was doing, he tore the smaller of the two open and rummaged around. After finding the object of his investigation, Max pulled it out and perused it for a few moments, allowing himself to remember better times.the best times.
The shrill ring of the telephone downstairs jolted Max back to the present and he hastily slammed the object under his pillow. Bounding down the stairs and into the living room, Max swung up the receiver on the last ring, catching it before the machine. He nodded at Tess, who just walked in the door from running an errand for Phillip, who was busy at work. She sat on the coach and nodded back at Max her greeting.
"Hello?"
"Max?"
Max frowned. Something in Michael's voice was a bit.strained.
"Michael? What's going on?"
Max heard Michael heave a loud sigh, and felt a chill inch down his spine, as if someone with cold fingers made a trail up and down his back.
"Liz is awake."
The phone slipped from Max's grasp and tumbled to the ground. The sentence resonated through Max's mind, ringing with such intensity that he didn't register the fact that Tess was hovering above him asking him what was wrong.
[I]Liz was awake.[/I]
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Once Tess was out of the house, and safely out of sight, she dug into her purse for her cell phone. After tersely punching in speed dial number one, she slammed it to her ear and awaited the voice on the other line to pick up.
Once they did, she didn't even bother with a salutation. "It's me. And I've got a sort of situation here. Max's comatose old flame woke up."
The person on the other end paused before rasping out. "What of that is significant to our plan?"
Tess sighed impatiently. "Look, you don't know the way he felt about her. I had to hear about it for three years, remember? She is a definite threat, especially if we want to keep our plan going accordingly and this smoothly."
Another pause, and then the deep voice held a wry smile to it. "I'm sure if it proves to be a notable impediment, you'll think of something."
The phone went dead and the voice was replaced with the irritating hum of the dial tone. Tess tossed the thing disgustedly back into her purse. Sometimes he just really pissed her off.
Maria Deluca punched her index finger on the large orange button and stared down at the steaming brown liquid that was trickling vociferously into the white Styrofoam cup. She wrinkled her pert nose and raised the freshly filled cup to her pink hued lips. Gagging after the first sip, her olive eyes crinkled as she grimaced.
"Just once," she muttered to herself, "Just once I would like to find ONE thing in this hospital that could be even remotely considered edible." She sighed loudly and spun back around towards the dimly lit hallway, grumbling randomly as she went and nursing the grotesque liquid occasionally.
"Honestly, is it like some sort of LAW that no hospital can produce even just ONE semi normal cup of coffee? I mean yea, sure, I can understand that they can't always help it if the daily special is ruined but coffee? It's really not that hard, you just add water and then - "
Someone behind her grabbed her arm. "Maria,"
Screaming, she whirled around, arms and coffee failing, both of which landed on poor, unwitting.
"Michael!" Maria shrieked. "God! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?!" She promptly smacked him again.
Michael Guerin sighed in exasperation and scrubbed fruitlessly at the large brown stain seeping into his shirt. Finally realizing that it was hopeless, he rolled his eyes and met Maria's expectant and irritated gaze. "I didn't sneak up on you," he grunted simply.
Maria sputtered and crossed her arms in a 'yea-right-go-on-you-tell-such- amusing-stories' type of way.
Michael arched an eyebrow at her and went on. "I called your name way back there but you were too busy babbling to yourself to notice."
"I wasn't babbling, I was lamenting the day I ever set foot in this hellhole where they ironically try and save you only to try and poison you later with coffee that could unclog a hairy drain!" She was babbling. She knew it. But she had to fill up space with SOMETHING, otherwise she would be left alone with her troubled thoughts. And that wasn't something she was prepared to confront right now. Maybe not ever. Because is she thought about how Liz might never wake up, then she didn't know what she would do with herself. She would be lost, bewildered, and.
The spasm of pain that flitted across Maria's face did not go unnoticed by Michael. He tentatively touched her arm again. "Hey," he said softly. "You okay?"
Dragging in a shaky breath, Maria nodded. "It's just." she paused, struggling for the right words, "It's just so damn HARD."
Michael's brow furrowed. "What's so hard? Life? Classes? Your job? ..This?" He gestured to the hallway.
Maria flipped her blonde locks over her shoulder. "Yea. [I]This.[/I]. It's so arduous going in to see her now." She stopped and gave a hollow laugh, devoid of any mirth. "Well, it's always hard to go in there not knowing whether or not." She broke off and perused the discolored white-ish walls as if they were the most interesting things since indoor pluming. She hoped Michael did not notice the sheen of unshed tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. She hated crying. Hated feeling WEAK, hated feeling helpless to do anything. And whenever she set foot in here she felt like all three.
"I know." Michael squeezed her arm, his dark eyes sympathetic and understanding. "I know."
Maria lugged in another shuddering breath of air. "And now.now its WORSE, knowing what Max told us his 'news,'" She seemed incapable of even speaking it aloud, as if not saying it would make it less real. "It seems like now that's it. Like now that Max has finally given up and moved on that its never going to happen. Like I should just stop holding on and stop HOPING like some pathetic."
"Hey," Michael cut in, his voice rough. "You are NOT pathetic, and there is nothing wrong with hoping. Anything's possible. I mean, hell, WE ended up together and pretty much STAYED together, so that's full proof of it," he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Maria's face softened and she gave a choked laugh. He was right, fundamentally of course, but what he said was true. They had pulled together through the bumpy, twisting ride. And it had been mostly thanks to Liz. She was the one who was there giving Maria the boost of confidence and determination to tackle Michael's stonewall, and she had been the one to give Michael little helpful hints as to make it up to Maria. And it had been Max himself who had helped Maria aid Michael become emancipated during the time when the truth came out about Michael's abusive foster father. Maria grimaced at the memory of that god-awful man. But then, she have to thank Hank for one thing. It had been that horrid night when Michael finally allowed himself to open up to Maria, in every possible, in every way that he had been frightened of his whole life. Their relationship had been considerably strong afterwards, but it wasn't until the accident that Michael really proved what a dependable person he could be. He had held her hand throughout the entire poignant, angst ridden time, yet done so without smothering her. What would she have done without Michael? It was a rhetorical question she asked herself everyday, knowing fully well the answer - she wouldn't have.
She smiled up at him. "Wow. Look at you all mature all of a sudden. Have you been watching Oprah or something?"
Michael smirked. "Keeps me in touch with my feminine side."
"Riiiiight," Maria drawled, her green eyes glittering with amusement before getting serious. "I mean, you didn't even BLINK when Max told us his news this morning." Her voice drifted off as she watched a flash of guilt run through Michael's features. "Michael?" Her tone carried a bit of an edge now, suspicious edge.
"Uhh, yea.?" Michael asked innocuously.
Maria's only response was to narrow her eyes to slits.
Michael shot a hasty glance down the hallway. "Um, we should, you know, get going before, uh, visiting hours are ov-"
"MICHAEL." The sound of his name being spoken with such demanding fervor caused him to jump slightly.
"This morning wasn't the first time you heard Max's 'news,'" she said slowly and deliberately, throwing up air quotes, "Was it."
Michael gulped. Busted. "He uh, he told me, uhm, sometime last week."
He winced as her rage fell expectantly upon him. "He WHAT? And you didn't TELL me? Argh! God, Michael! Is there a reason you kept this from me? I thought we were past the whole secrecy thing and forward on the motto that 'secrets secrets are no fun unless you share with everyone,' but obviously not. Honestly, why do you do this to me? Do you know how it felt when he just."
Michael heaved a sigh and gnashed his fingers into his scalp. "Maria please. Let's not do this here. Let's just go see Liz."
She clapped her mouth shut but glowered at her significant other (definitely NOT her better half), seeing through his means to thwart her anger until another time when it had simmered for a while. Eventually she softened, her anger melting into sorrow at the thought of her former best friend.
Former. Oh, God, now she was thinking of her in the past tense. Tears itched her eyes at the thought, which she jerked away from. No. She would not go there. Would not go as far as Max had, to a point of no return, a point of dashed, derelict hope.
The two made their way to the room in silence, their echoing footsteps resounding through the spacious hall, the noise following them like a shadow. Once they reached the desired destination, Maria's hand shot out to grip Michael's, which had been reaching for the doorknob.
"Wait."
Michael dropped his hand and turned it over to lace his with her fingers. He merely looked at her bemusedly, complying to her request, neither questioning, nor commenting on it. He just simply waited.
"I just." Maria blew a puff of air upwards, effectively tossing a wayward strand of gold up from her forehead. "I just need a minute." What she was steeling herself for, she didn't know. All she knew was that she needed a moment to process her thoughts, to contemplate Max's decision and what it meant for Liz. She needed to have a clear head when she went in there. Liz didn't need a blubbering, feeble Maria in there, no matter the state of her unconsciousness. No, Maria needed to be strong, needed to be pushing her to wake.but most of all Maria needed to be like Liz [I]herself[/I] would be in such a situation.
A minute ran its course, and Maria lessened her tight clutch on Michael's hand. She was ready, or as ready as she would ever be.
"Okay." She told him, and he opened the door.
Apparently Maria should have taken another minute to ready herself, as the sight that they were met with took away all though, all rationale, all tranquility, and Maria Deluca screamed aloud.
"Oh My God!"
The startled russet hues of Liz Parker's eyes snapped to the doorway, the piercing depths charged with confusion, trepidation, and.vitality. She was awake. And that set off a whole new world of complications and complexities.
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Michael stopped cold at the sight of Liz Parker's eyes. Now there was something he hadn't been sure he would ever see again. But there she was. It was LIZ after all. Pulling through as always, and as Michael suspected she would. It was about friggin time too. Max was definitely going to.
Oh God. Max. Tess. The whole warped thing.
Suddenly Michael's head hurt and pounded with the mother of all headaches. How the hell were they supposed to push through that mess? Silently Michael fumed at Max. This was going to kill Liz, and Maria was going to kill Max. That is if Alex didn't beat him to it.
Alex. Isabel. They were going to freak out. Michael could still hear Alex's grim voice as he asked Max what the hell he was thinking, and Isabel downcast eyes when Max had told them this morning. And it certainly hadn't helped that Maria had managed to convert Alex to her blind hatred of Liz's replacement (or Tess was more [I]fondly[/I] referred as). Michael didn't see what Maria's problem was. Sure, she was moving in on where Liz used to stand, but other than that, she seemed like a nice enough girl. To him at least. To Maria, she was a skanky manipulative chipmunk (direct quote by the way, not his).
Technically it was all Michael's fault. He shouldn't have allowed Max to even consider it. He should have reminded him of Liz's inert form lying on a hospital bed when Max had first pondered aloud the very idea some weeks ago and confided in him.
Sick dread and unfathomable compunction twisted his insides as Michael imagined the looks upon everyone's faces. As he imagined the look that was most likely etched upon his own face.
But then, what else was Max supposed to do, considering the circumstances? Wait around for something that might never happen? Why should Max have to suffer alone, grasping onto what ifs and intangible maybes? Did he really do anything wrong?
Michael's eyes fluttered shut. This was too much. A brain overload of confusion, misconceptions and speculations.
On that note though, why did he CARE so much? It theoretically wasn't his problem. Why was he getting all knotted up about it?
The truth of the matter was that he DID care. And for good reason. These people were his friends - the only family, the only compassion he had ever known. It would be callous of him not to feel anxiety about it. For although he had only really known Liz Parker for seven months those years ago, he was certain that she would have done the same for any of them. And the fact that without her, their tight knit group - their close family of friends - fell apart gave Michael all the more reason to stand by her, to allow his emotions to be invested in this.
For he was. And he would continue to be a part of this mini drama - no matter how insignificant his role - until it was resolved somewhat.
And right now it was far from that.
Michael snapped out of his musing to witness Maria break off from the bone crushing hug in which she had just incarcerated Liz in after crying out and brushing away joyous tears.
"Oh Lizzie! I can't tell you how glad I am that you're awake! You cant imagine how much we've missed you!"
Immediately Michael felt extremely foolish and irritated with himself. Here he was fretting about the imminent future and not acknowledging the phenomenon in front of him. That was what always choked him in the past. He had always been so focused in getting away from Hank, in fighting impatiently for the future that he never stopped to enjoy the present. It had almost cost him Maria, and he firmly refused to let that age-old flaw inhibit this moment.
Striding over to Liz's pale form, he gently laid a kiss on her cheek. "Hey," was all he said, but his tone conveyed so much more.
Liz's face with stamped with bemusement. "Uh, hey," she croaked, her voice scratchy and thick from disuse. "What's going on? Why am I in the hospital?" Liz attempted to shift her body out of the bed, and her face scrunched up with panic. "Oh my God! Maria! Why cant I move my legs!?"
Maria winced, thinking back to the doctors warning that, if she pulled out of the coma at all, Liz would be faced with several liabilities, including paralysis. She also remembered the doctors forewarning that Liz would most likely not remember much from that day. Well, that is that's what the doctors thought in the beginning. After Liz hit the two-week mark, still trapped inside her mind, the doctors had had little hope that this day would ever come. But the Parker's had refused to pull the plug, and only wavered slightly afterward.
Michael knew that Maria had also clung onto the fact that Liz would fight it, and break through. It was in Parker's nature after-all. And now.now it looked like they got their miracle after all.
"Do you remember anything before this.about the accident?" Maria decided to go a round about way of answering Liz's questions, trying to determine how much the frail girl knew before she dumped everything on Liz at once.
Liz's face screwed in contemplation. "Max was taking me out for our anniversary, we ate, we.ah." At this Liz blushed slightly. Michael's animosity positively burned in his stomach now. Max and Liz had. And then Max went off and did what he did. Granted sufficient enough amount of time had gone by but still. This just kept getting better and better didn't it.
Liz cleared her throat. "Ah, anyways. Then he drove me home and." She gasped, the sharp sound of the air sucking in her voice caused Michael's heart to lurch. Liz turned her wide, tan eyes to the two of them.
"Oh my God! The car! Max!" Liz shoved away her covers as if to bolt up for the door, only to fall back on her pillow, tears of anger streaking her lovely face when she remembered. She moved her imploring face towards Michael. "Where is he?" She whispered, almost afraid to speak any louder, fearing the worst. "Oh God. He's all right, right?"
Michael huffed. "Oh believe me Liz. Maxwell is fine and dandy."
Maria shot Michael with a dirty look, one that reeked of caveat, and tried to coax Liz's attention away from that particular subject. Michael noted though, that her teeth were clenched, as they always were when she was angry.
"So you remember the accident?" Maria instantly flinched once the question was out of her mouth. Like Liz really needed to be reminded of it.
Liz nodded. "I guess I didn't get off so easy," she reflected, glancing ruefully at her stationary legs and the feeding tube in her arm. Her gaze fell upon a strange looking contraption to the side of her bed. "What's that?"
Again Maria flinched, and Michael knew why. She hated that thing and the fact that Liz couldn't do it alone. Maria despised coming in to visit Liz to find her sprawled on her stomach. She complained that it made her look inhuman.like a doll that fell over. Michael had to agree.
"It's um, a machine that flips you from your back to your stomach and then back again," Maria clarified. "So you don't.get bed sores from laying in one spot for too long."
Michael held his breath, wondering if Liz would decode that statement and realize just how serious the ramifications of the accident had been on her.
"What do you mean," Liz asked slowly, dubiously. "I can't have been knocked out for that long.could I?"
Michael sighed and glanced at Maria. She was biting her lip, apparently trying hard not to cry. "Lizzie," She answered. "Right now its August."
Liz scoffed. "So? It was August when the accident happened."
Maria shook her head, her green eyes glittering. "No. Liz," she hesitated. "Liz, it's August.August 2005."
For a moment, the room was dead silent, nothing but a dull buzzing wafted faintly through their ears. Then Liz spoke. "Wha-What?" Her breathing picked up, as did the monitor supervising her heart rate. Her eyes widened with awareness "But that would mean."
Maria nodded. "You've been in a coma for three years." Even though Maria had accepted it, saying the words aloud still felt like a knife sliding out of her throat.
Liz covered her face in her hands and she gave a strangled cry. After composing herself somewhat she jerked her head forward with such vehemence that Michael balked. Subsequently she inquired the exact information that Michael had been dreading to tell her. And the funny thing was that she looked straight at Michael the entire time.
"Where's Max? Why isn't he here? Were you lying when you said he was all right?" Her voice glinted with steel and bit the room's atmosphere.
Michael gulped and refused to meet Liz's gaze. Maybe it would be best if they didn't tell her. Not yet. Not while she was obviously still in shock and reeling from the aforementioned news.
But then, if it were him, he would want to know. It wouldn't be fair to Liz to keep this from her, especially when she asked him straight out. So it was with candid unwavering directness that Michael locked eyes with Liz and told her.
"Max is engaged, Liz."
Maria gasped and reached over to smack Michael upside the head. "I can't believe you just did that!" she hissed.
Michael glowered at her, massaging his scalp, and hissed back, "She had to find out sometime? Why prolong it when it would just hurt more in the end?" It was like a band-aid. You had to rip it off fast and deal with the pain all at once. Everyone knew it was much worse to tug it off little by little, bit by bit, protracting the hurt.
But as Michael took in Liz's shocked and stricken expression, he had a feeling that this particular band-aid wasn't going to be as easy as discarding, even though it had been torn off with astonishingly rapid speed.
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Max Evans picked up the larger of the two cardboard boxes and manipulated the protruding flaps so that they effectively closed shut. He ambled over to the closet and lifted his arms up to place the box carefully on the top shelf.
And stopped.
Could he really just pack everything away, to bury deep all the memories and move on? It wasn't like he would ever be able to forget.
But he had to. For Tess's sake.
Ah, Tess. The reason for moving on. He had met her at one of his father's work parties, her being the daughter of some prominent lawyer at an similar firm, and Phillip had eagerly pushed the two together. It had been a year and a half after the accident, and Max had finally begun to do things other than wallow in despair, locked inside his room. He had even forced himself to go through the motions of attending a semester of classes at Stanford, his father urging him not to waste another semester on "personal leave."
As it turned out, Tess went to Stanford as well, and she sought him out numerous times. He hadn't been looking for a relationship at all, not even friendship, so at first he was a bit cold to Tess. But she kept coming back, speaking words of encouragement and support in his ear, saying she would always be there for him, in whatever way he wanted her to be. Adding that with Phillips coaxing Max to give Tess a shot, Max found himself seeking solitude in her presence, telling her everything he had kept bottled up since the accident, about how much he loved Liz, how guilty and stricken he felt, and finally, about his growing despair that she would never wake up.
He remembered the day when he lost it. He had been sitting by Liz's side, watching her sit motionless, her face preserved in severe beauty. Max remembered thinking that this was all wrong. That Liz had never looked so serious in life. In life she had been happy, smiling, gazing at him with love.
And that's when it hit him. [I]IN LIFE[/I] She wasn't alive, and yet she wasn't dead. And without her, neither was Max. They were both stuck, trapped in a horrifying limbo, with no light to lead them out.
Phillip had come to the hospital that day, which had been most surprising. One, being that Phillip hated hospitals (Diane having died in one), and two, being that he and Liz had never gotten along. Phillip had never really approved of Max and Liz's relationship, for reasons beyond Max's comprehension.
Max's father had touched him gently on the shoulder, and told Max that he couldn't keep wasting his life waiting around for the past to come back. That it was what Liz would have wanted. That he had to move on for his own sake, and sanity.
At first Max had been extremely angry with Phillip, outraged that he would talk as if Liz were dead, and even suggest that he move on. But over the next two years, he found his hope ebbing away, along with his devotion. Just barely a year ago Max consented to Tess's hints that they take their friendship to something more, and a couple of days ago, after having another 'seize the moment, don't live in the past' talks with his father, and mentioning the idea to Michael, Max proposed to Tess last night.
Max sighed and the box above his head quivered in sync with his body.
For his own sake, and sanity. His father was right. He couldn't keep living like this. Stuck in the past. Waiting for something that would just never happen.
Yet, he found his arms still motionless in the air, the box full of Liz memorabilia hanging in the balance. He let his arms sag, and he dropped back onto the bed in the room of his childhood, being that he spent his summers at home, working at his father's firm. He let his index finger gently trace the top, and a torrent of nostalgia crushed his body.
True Tess could never be Liz. But at this point, she was as close as he was ever going to be to happy again. He had to do it. He had to let go.
But as he stood up to finish the job of packing away the boxes, Max hesitated one last time. Before he even thought about what he was doing, he tore the smaller of the two open and rummaged around. After finding the object of his investigation, Max pulled it out and perused it for a few moments, allowing himself to remember better times.the best times.
The shrill ring of the telephone downstairs jolted Max back to the present and he hastily slammed the object under his pillow. Bounding down the stairs and into the living room, Max swung up the receiver on the last ring, catching it before the machine. He nodded at Tess, who just walked in the door from running an errand for Phillip, who was busy at work. She sat on the coach and nodded back at Max her greeting.
"Hello?"
"Max?"
Max frowned. Something in Michael's voice was a bit.strained.
"Michael? What's going on?"
Max heard Michael heave a loud sigh, and felt a chill inch down his spine, as if someone with cold fingers made a trail up and down his back.
"Liz is awake."
The phone slipped from Max's grasp and tumbled to the ground. The sentence resonated through Max's mind, ringing with such intensity that he didn't register the fact that Tess was hovering above him asking him what was wrong.
[I]Liz was awake.[/I]
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Once Tess was out of the house, and safely out of sight, she dug into her purse for her cell phone. After tersely punching in speed dial number one, she slammed it to her ear and awaited the voice on the other line to pick up.
Once they did, she didn't even bother with a salutation. "It's me. And I've got a sort of situation here. Max's comatose old flame woke up."
The person on the other end paused before rasping out. "What of that is significant to our plan?"
Tess sighed impatiently. "Look, you don't know the way he felt about her. I had to hear about it for three years, remember? She is a definite threat, especially if we want to keep our plan going accordingly and this smoothly."
Another pause, and then the deep voice held a wry smile to it. "I'm sure if it proves to be a notable impediment, you'll think of something."
The phone went dead and the voice was replaced with the irritating hum of the dial tone. Tess tossed the thing disgustedly back into her purse. Sometimes he just really pissed her off.