Michael opened the front door before Max's knuckles made contact with the badly painted wood.

Noting his friend's questioning expression he shrugged, "Maria's passed out."

Looking beyond Michael into the apartment, Max saw Maria precariously perched on a bar stool at the counter, her arm splayed across the surface and her face obscured by the tumbled waves of her hair as a coffee maker cheerily brewed up a fresh batch of caffeine laden refreshment.

"How is she?" Liz asked, looking up into Michael's eyes.

"Asleep." He turned aside in order to allow them entrance, accepting a grocery bag from Isabel as she passed him by.

"I didn't want to have to take my chances on what you two thought snacks were." She strode purposefully into the apartment, settling into one corner of the couch.

Once everyone had filed in, Michael closed the door and looked back at Maria. She looked exhausted, even aside from the fact that she'd fallen asleep almost before she'd finished setting up the coffee maker, her eyes were shadowed by dark smudges and her skin looked too tight. He didn't want to wake her up.

The decision was taken away from him when he watched her arm jerk and her body slid from the stool.  Max stood between Michael and Maria and he jumped to catch her before she hit the floor.  He managed to prevent her head from colliding with the countertop and found himself slumped beneath her on the ground.

"Wha--"  Maria fought against Max' hold until she could pry open her eyes and assess her situation.  What she saw sent her heart into a panic.  Max was crouched on Michael's floor with her head cradled to his chest while Michael and Liz stood by with perplexed expressions in their eyes.  She couldn't remember what had happened, didn't want to speculate at what would send her into Max' arms when Michael was right there.  She also couldn't decide why she appeared to be sprawled across the floor in Michael's apartment.  The notion that she had been punched drifted across her musing but her face held no telltale soreness to back up that idea.

"Maria, are you alright?"

She looked up into Liz' eyes and found concern there instead of condemnation.  It was then that she recalled sitting at Michael's bar to wait for the coffee to finish brewing.  She must have fallen asleep.

"Yeah," she said as she worked to push herself away from Max.  She felt Michael's hands at her waits and allowed him to help her up.  "I'm okay.  I'm just tired I guess.  Maybe I'll just go lie down on the bed for a little while."

Max rose and rubbed his hands on his jeans while his eyes followed Maria to the bedroom.  He wondered if he should tell the others what little he knew.  Maria was having nightmares but that was no great secret, Isabel had even mentioned them earlier.  But when Maria had looked up at him and recognized his face, he thought her heart might thump itself right out of her chest.  Her response was off the chart and Max wondered what had caused such a reaction.

On Michael's bed, Maria curled in on herself with her chin tucked down to press against her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around her knees.  Her head ached and her throbbing temples felt close to the bursting point.  Every nerve in her body burned.  Her state, she knew, had grown beyond the help of aromatherapy no matter how many candles she might light or vials of oil she might open.  She needed to sleep, to let her body rest.  But sleep brought dreams and those were more disturbing than any physical pain her body endured.

She listened to her friends as they talked in the living room with their voices lowered so they wouldn't disturb her.  They were worried; she could hear it in the tone of their voices.  Well, they would all just have to take a backseat to her own fears, at least until she had figured out a course of action for herself.  She needed to talk with Max but she also owed Michael an explanation and there was Isabel as well, not to mention Liz.  But she wasn't going to talk to anyone until she managed to get some rest first.