[b]Part 21[/b]
When they reach Portland, it is the middle of the night. They check into a crummy motel near the bus station. In spite of the fact that she is weary and there is presently little to smile about, when Liz pushes her way into their room, she does so, slightly. Since Max healed her, memories of her life before the bridge have been returning fast and furious, triggered by the smallest thing. And some of them make her smile.
"What?" Max asks. He is tuned into her constantly, now that the connection has been reopened, just as she is to him. He has not seen her smile, but he has [I]felt[/I] it. Liz's heart contracts at how tired he looks. They did not talk much on the bus, but they did not sleep either. Liz could not, her mind full of all that has happened in the past few hours.
It was too soon to talk, but it was also too soon to sleep. She knows that Max felt the same way.
She thinks he also shares her fear that if she lets herself fall asleep - or even talk - she might wake up and it will all have been a dream. That they are not together and that the one good thing that has happened on this day is merely a figment of both of their imaginations.
"I was just thinking about that crappy motel Michael and Maria checked into on the way to Marathon," Liz replies now. She sits down next to him on the bed. "That place was awful."
"This isn't much better," Max says. She looks at him. He is watching her closely. "It must be strange...having all your memories back."
Liz shrugs. "It is. But, it's not. I can't really explain it." Not even to herself. She remembers things arbitrarily now, and it is like she cannot believe that she once could not recall them. "The worst part is trying to reconcile who I've been with who I was and who I am now. I mean, I've been 'Beth' for five years. She's still [I]me[/I], but she's not. I don't know if I can figure out what it means to be 'Liz' anymore."
"I'm sorry," Max says. "I wish..." He trails off, but Liz hears a thousand different dreams in the silence that follows.
"So do I," Liz whispers. She leans into him, and he brings his arm around her. "This is so weird, Max."
He sighs. "I know. You can talk about it, you know. I'm not going to get upset."
She believes him. The most amazing thing about the experience of being healed by him a second time is that, because she knew what to expect, she was able to focus on it more. And, while it was happening, she practically became him. She now knows for certain that Isabel was right. Max accepts everything that happened while he was away. She wonders how on Earth he can do it - how she can be so lucky? How can one person be so understanding?
Even after the connection there is so much to say, she does not know where to start. But, then, in some ways, she does not even want to start. She wishes they could go back to before any of this ever happened, when they were still young and it was uncomplicated. Or as uncomplicated as it could be considering one of them was not of this Earth.
Another memory filters through her mind, bittersweet and now marked with regret.
[I] Let's just keep running, you and me, away from here, away from everything. I see everything so clearly now. We'll go someplace where no one knows us. As long as we're together, nothing else matters. [/I]
She wonders how things would have been different had they run away then, as teenagers. She shakes her head firmly. It is no good wishing for what can never be.
And, yet, she realizes that it is exactly what they have now done. Run away. It is still as true now as it was back then. Neither of them wants to admit that anything else matters when they are together. But it does not change that the world insists on getting in. They must discuss where they are to go from here.
She starts carefully. "It's been so long, but to me, it almost feels like no time has passed. I'm like two people. I'm Beth, who has lived five years dreaming about someone she didn't even remember. And then I'm Liz, who jumped off a bridge with you, and it feels like that was yesterday."
"I want to know Beth too," Max tells her.
"I know you do," Liz replies. "But I don't know if I can hold onto her. So much of who she was is wrapped up in things that can never be again."
There is a long moment of silence. "You're talking about him," Max finally says quietly.
"Yeah."
"I connected with him, you know," Max reveals abruptly, making Liz blink.
"You did?"
There is another silence. "Liz, I don't quite no how to tell you this..." He trails off again, his pain for her obvious. She sighs at the unfairness of it. With all he has endured over the past five years, the thought that he is forced to feel sorry for her saddens her. She also knows that it is not what Zan would want.
"I know he's dead," she tells him. She shifts, looking up at Max. His golden eyes are shadowed, but she can feel his sense of helplessness. He does not know what to say in this situation. Who would? It is beyond any normal circumstance that any normal person should ever have to deal with.
[I]What's so great about normal?[/I]
She smiles sadly. She realizes that, still, in spite of everything, she can not wish for normal. She just cannot do it.
Not if it means never having felt the way she does about the man sitting beside her on this lumpy bed in this crummy motel room.
Not if it means that the life growing within her would not exist. Because she loves it already and knows that everything that has happened is so that he or she can come into the world. She does not know why this is meant to be, but Lonnie - and Zan - were right that, in time, she would understand the sacrifice Zan made. Because now she does.
It makes her feel guilty that she feels like it was all worth it, just to bring her and Max to this moment. But she knows now that this is their cross to bear to be together. They will always feel guilty. Yet, she will never love him - or the baby - any less. She could more easily rip out her own heart.
Why she loves Max is reinforced by his next words. His next words are just so [I]him[/I] and she quite simply loves everything about him.
He is still the same. Curious in spite of himself. Willing to deal with and talk about the things he might not like and might not understand, because he knows they are important. She remembers how he always used to consider himself careful. But he was not. Not really. When it came right down to it, Max always did what had to be done, searching for the truth of who he really was as ardently as Michael, but in his own more considered way.
"Can you tell me about him?" Max asks gently. "If it's too hard, I understand, but I don't even get who he was."
Liz knew the question would come eventually. After all, Max knows nothing of the dupes, nor of Langley, or the granolith. He is even more in the dark about the past five years than she is. And, yet, she is still unprepared for it. She knew it would come, because he is Max, but she does not quite know what to tell him.
How can she tell him that Zan was his replacement, his placeholder, and, in the end, his saviour? How can she tell him how much Zan meant to her; that, although he was never quite right in her heart, for a long time, in her mind, he was the [I]one[/I]? That he [I]was[/I] Max?
How can she tell Max that she is now carrying his duplicate's child and there will forever be a reminder that, for a time, she forgot him?
How can she tell him that, although she knows it is wrong, she believes that, in the end, it was all worth it? That their separation, his torture, her loss of herself and, yes, even Zan's death, were worth it?
But, she knows Max, and she knows he will understand. He will always understand. Just as Zan did. Because, although they are different - and the way she feels about them is different - in so many ways, they are the same.
"I can tell you whatever you want to know," she says. She reaches up, placing her hands on both sides of his face. "But I need you to know one thing before we get into any of it."
"Okay," Max says, sounding afraid, but also determined.
"I need you to understand what I think I'm beginning to get. The reason why it all happened is because you are the one, Max. You are the one person in this world that I need in my life. I think it's part of the reason that my memory wouldn't come back. Because I couldn't have survived the thought of what had happened to you if it did. So my mind protected me for all these years. It made me forget you so that I could go on. Survive. But then it all just got confused when I met Zan." She pauses, feeling tears fill her eyes, because she knows that what she is about to say is going to hurt him. "But all of that...It doesn't negate the fact that I loved him. Not how I love you, but I did."
He lowers his head, so that their foreheads are touching. She feels minutely better, but her heart is still thundering in her chest, because he does not say anything for the longest time. She can almost sense the wheels turning in his head as he processes what she has said, and as he formulates a reply.
Finally he says, "I want you to feel like you can mourn him." She closes her eyes. He is so good. How can he possibly be so good, after all that has happened to him? How can what Pierce did to him not have wiped this out of him? But, she understands that it his goodness, and his ability to accept the failings of others, that makes him Max. And it is what has helped him survive through hell.
"And I want you to know something too, Liz," he continues softly. "Your child..." She feels her eyes widen. He knows! How can he possibly know? She barely knows! "I hope it can be our child."
She starts to cry in earnest then. She senses that he knows that there will be no more talking this night, as he gently removes her jacket and shoes, and then lies down with her, pulling her into his arms.
This is how, after she decided on the bus that she will do anything to make Max forget the hell he has lived through in the past five years, he ends up comforting [I]her[/I] while she cries herself to sleep.
When they reach Portland, it is the middle of the night. They check into a crummy motel near the bus station. In spite of the fact that she is weary and there is presently little to smile about, when Liz pushes her way into their room, she does so, slightly. Since Max healed her, memories of her life before the bridge have been returning fast and furious, triggered by the smallest thing. And some of them make her smile.
"What?" Max asks. He is tuned into her constantly, now that the connection has been reopened, just as she is to him. He has not seen her smile, but he has [I]felt[/I] it. Liz's heart contracts at how tired he looks. They did not talk much on the bus, but they did not sleep either. Liz could not, her mind full of all that has happened in the past few hours.
It was too soon to talk, but it was also too soon to sleep. She knows that Max felt the same way.
She thinks he also shares her fear that if she lets herself fall asleep - or even talk - she might wake up and it will all have been a dream. That they are not together and that the one good thing that has happened on this day is merely a figment of both of their imaginations.
"I was just thinking about that crappy motel Michael and Maria checked into on the way to Marathon," Liz replies now. She sits down next to him on the bed. "That place was awful."
"This isn't much better," Max says. She looks at him. He is watching her closely. "It must be strange...having all your memories back."
Liz shrugs. "It is. But, it's not. I can't really explain it." Not even to herself. She remembers things arbitrarily now, and it is like she cannot believe that she once could not recall them. "The worst part is trying to reconcile who I've been with who I was and who I am now. I mean, I've been 'Beth' for five years. She's still [I]me[/I], but she's not. I don't know if I can figure out what it means to be 'Liz' anymore."
"I'm sorry," Max says. "I wish..." He trails off, but Liz hears a thousand different dreams in the silence that follows.
"So do I," Liz whispers. She leans into him, and he brings his arm around her. "This is so weird, Max."
He sighs. "I know. You can talk about it, you know. I'm not going to get upset."
She believes him. The most amazing thing about the experience of being healed by him a second time is that, because she knew what to expect, she was able to focus on it more. And, while it was happening, she practically became him. She now knows for certain that Isabel was right. Max accepts everything that happened while he was away. She wonders how on Earth he can do it - how she can be so lucky? How can one person be so understanding?
Even after the connection there is so much to say, she does not know where to start. But, then, in some ways, she does not even want to start. She wishes they could go back to before any of this ever happened, when they were still young and it was uncomplicated. Or as uncomplicated as it could be considering one of them was not of this Earth.
Another memory filters through her mind, bittersweet and now marked with regret.
[I] Let's just keep running, you and me, away from here, away from everything. I see everything so clearly now. We'll go someplace where no one knows us. As long as we're together, nothing else matters. [/I]
She wonders how things would have been different had they run away then, as teenagers. She shakes her head firmly. It is no good wishing for what can never be.
And, yet, she realizes that it is exactly what they have now done. Run away. It is still as true now as it was back then. Neither of them wants to admit that anything else matters when they are together. But it does not change that the world insists on getting in. They must discuss where they are to go from here.
She starts carefully. "It's been so long, but to me, it almost feels like no time has passed. I'm like two people. I'm Beth, who has lived five years dreaming about someone she didn't even remember. And then I'm Liz, who jumped off a bridge with you, and it feels like that was yesterday."
"I want to know Beth too," Max tells her.
"I know you do," Liz replies. "But I don't know if I can hold onto her. So much of who she was is wrapped up in things that can never be again."
There is a long moment of silence. "You're talking about him," Max finally says quietly.
"Yeah."
"I connected with him, you know," Max reveals abruptly, making Liz blink.
"You did?"
There is another silence. "Liz, I don't quite no how to tell you this..." He trails off again, his pain for her obvious. She sighs at the unfairness of it. With all he has endured over the past five years, the thought that he is forced to feel sorry for her saddens her. She also knows that it is not what Zan would want.
"I know he's dead," she tells him. She shifts, looking up at Max. His golden eyes are shadowed, but she can feel his sense of helplessness. He does not know what to say in this situation. Who would? It is beyond any normal circumstance that any normal person should ever have to deal with.
[I]What's so great about normal?[/I]
She smiles sadly. She realizes that, still, in spite of everything, she can not wish for normal. She just cannot do it.
Not if it means never having felt the way she does about the man sitting beside her on this lumpy bed in this crummy motel room.
Not if it means that the life growing within her would not exist. Because she loves it already and knows that everything that has happened is so that he or she can come into the world. She does not know why this is meant to be, but Lonnie - and Zan - were right that, in time, she would understand the sacrifice Zan made. Because now she does.
It makes her feel guilty that she feels like it was all worth it, just to bring her and Max to this moment. But she knows now that this is their cross to bear to be together. They will always feel guilty. Yet, she will never love him - or the baby - any less. She could more easily rip out her own heart.
Why she loves Max is reinforced by his next words. His next words are just so [I]him[/I] and she quite simply loves everything about him.
He is still the same. Curious in spite of himself. Willing to deal with and talk about the things he might not like and might not understand, because he knows they are important. She remembers how he always used to consider himself careful. But he was not. Not really. When it came right down to it, Max always did what had to be done, searching for the truth of who he really was as ardently as Michael, but in his own more considered way.
"Can you tell me about him?" Max asks gently. "If it's too hard, I understand, but I don't even get who he was."
Liz knew the question would come eventually. After all, Max knows nothing of the dupes, nor of Langley, or the granolith. He is even more in the dark about the past five years than she is. And, yet, she is still unprepared for it. She knew it would come, because he is Max, but she does not quite know what to tell him.
How can she tell him that Zan was his replacement, his placeholder, and, in the end, his saviour? How can she tell him how much Zan meant to her; that, although he was never quite right in her heart, for a long time, in her mind, he was the [I]one[/I]? That he [I]was[/I] Max?
How can she tell Max that she is now carrying his duplicate's child and there will forever be a reminder that, for a time, she forgot him?
How can she tell him that, although she knows it is wrong, she believes that, in the end, it was all worth it? That their separation, his torture, her loss of herself and, yes, even Zan's death, were worth it?
But, she knows Max, and she knows he will understand. He will always understand. Just as Zan did. Because, although they are different - and the way she feels about them is different - in so many ways, they are the same.
"I can tell you whatever you want to know," she says. She reaches up, placing her hands on both sides of his face. "But I need you to know one thing before we get into any of it."
"Okay," Max says, sounding afraid, but also determined.
"I need you to understand what I think I'm beginning to get. The reason why it all happened is because you are the one, Max. You are the one person in this world that I need in my life. I think it's part of the reason that my memory wouldn't come back. Because I couldn't have survived the thought of what had happened to you if it did. So my mind protected me for all these years. It made me forget you so that I could go on. Survive. But then it all just got confused when I met Zan." She pauses, feeling tears fill her eyes, because she knows that what she is about to say is going to hurt him. "But all of that...It doesn't negate the fact that I loved him. Not how I love you, but I did."
He lowers his head, so that their foreheads are touching. She feels minutely better, but her heart is still thundering in her chest, because he does not say anything for the longest time. She can almost sense the wheels turning in his head as he processes what she has said, and as he formulates a reply.
Finally he says, "I want you to feel like you can mourn him." She closes her eyes. He is so good. How can he possibly be so good, after all that has happened to him? How can what Pierce did to him not have wiped this out of him? But, she understands that it his goodness, and his ability to accept the failings of others, that makes him Max. And it is what has helped him survive through hell.
"And I want you to know something too, Liz," he continues softly. "Your child..." She feels her eyes widen. He knows! How can he possibly know? She barely knows! "I hope it can be our child."
She starts to cry in earnest then. She senses that he knows that there will be no more talking this night, as he gently removes her jacket and shoes, and then lies down with her, pulling her into his arms.
This is how, after she decided on the bus that she will do anything to make Max forget the hell he has lived through in the past five years, he ends up comforting [I]her[/I] while she cries herself to sleep.
