Part 24 - Conclusion
The corn is high. Max wonders why he notices when he pulls the car to the side of the deserted highway. He does though, and he mentions it to Liz. She nods, not finding the comment strange.
They all sit quietly for several long moments. Finally Max turns his head and regards his son, who is staring out the window. "Are you sure this is it?"
"Yup," Sam replies. He is twelve now, and has a tendency to communicate with as few words as possible.
"What do you want to do, Sweetie?" Liz asks.
"I just want to sit for a minute," Sam says.
"Okay," Max replies.
"Max, what are you thinking?" Isabel demands quietly. She has spent the last five minutes hugging him, so it is the first thing she has said to him since he returned from his run. It is now only the two of them. Maria has pulled Liz into the bathroom for a private talk. Max suspects that it is partly to give him time alone with his sister, but he also suspects that Maria is asking Liz pretty much the same question.
They knew the questions would come of course. He just did not expect Isabel to be quite so direct. He has forgotten what it is like to talk to his sister.
He is still adjusting to the fact that Isabel is here at all. He and Liz have been so wrapped up in themselves for so many months, it is strange to be talking to anyone other than his wife.
His wife. Liz is his wife. He savours the words as they run through his mind. He will never tire of saying them, nor thinking them, nor living them.
"What do you mean?" he asks, refocusing on his sister.
Isabel's hands are clenched in her lap. "Max, I know it's not yours," she whispers urgently, glancing towards the bathroom. She hesitates slightly, then asks tentatively, "You do know that, right?"
Max eyes her for a long moment. "Of course I know, Iz," he replies mildly. He is not angry, maybe a little annoyed that she might think that Liz would not have told him, but mostly curious. Because, how does Isabel know?
"You know about Zan?" She wants reassurance. He can sense her concern for him. He has forgotten what it feels like. It has been so long since he has allowed anyone to worry about him. Too long. It feels nice.
"I know," Max assures her. "What I want to know is how you know," he continues. "That the baby isn't mine, I mean." He pauses, then adds firmly, "Technically, of course. In every way that counts, he is."
Isabel grimaces slightly. "I've been talking to Lonnie. Through dreamwalks. She told me."
"Your duplicate?" Max asks, surprised. "Why? Liz told me you guys wanted nothing to do with them."
Isabel meets his eyes. "Because her brother trusted her enough to tell her what he was doing before he did it," she says. It is harsh, and the arrow hits home, but Max does not flinch. He knows that Isabel needs to unleash some of her anger, some of her frustration that he did not allow her to find him.
He is prepared for it, but it does not mean that he knows what to say to her. He cannot change what he has done, but he can make sure not to lie to her now. It is all he is capable of doing.
"I'm sorry, Iz." Because he is. It is not a lie. But he also knows that he would not change anything.
No regrets. He and Liz have made the pact, and he will not break it. Not even for Isabel.
"Were you going to tell us?" Isabel asks. She no longer sounds angry, just tired.
"Yes," Max says.
"Were you going to tell me yourself that you can't have kids?"
Max shrugs. "I thought you'd eventually figure out that part on your own."
"How long have you known, Max?" she whispers. "How long did he torture you with it?"
"A couple of years," Max replies. It is not difficult for him to talk about it. While the radiation was happening, it did not really concern him. It did not hurt particularly, at least in comparison to other things Pierce did to him, and he knew that he was never going to have children anyway. Pierce thought that ensuring that he was the last of his kind was the ultimate punishment, but he never really understood Max. He did not understand that, with Liz dead, children were an impossibility for Max anyway. "The only reason I was upset about it at all was once I knew that Liz was alive," he adds. "And now that doesn't even matter. It's not a big deal, Iz."
"Max, it is," Isabel retorts. "I know that it is."
"No, you don't, Isabel," Max tells her. "The child Liz is carrying is mine. He trusted me to believe that, and I do." He takes her hand in his. It makes her look at him, and he says seriously, "And you have to believe it too. All of you do."
"Max..."
"Isabel, this baby is important. He is important for so many reasons, but the main one is that I need him. Liz and I both need him. Can you understand that, without knowing he's coming, we might not be able to find our way out of the dark?"
Tears gleam in Isabel's dark eyes. "Oh, Max."
He pulls her toward him gently. As he hugs her, his hand cups the back of her neck in the way it always has. It is amazing how, even after five years, his body remembers how he has always comforted his sister. It has always been so, after all. Since the day they came out of the pods, he has been her protector. But now it is time for her to understand that they must both protect someone else.
"Can you understand, Isabel?" he asks again. "Because, if you can't, then we're going to have a problem."
She pulls back, nodding. "I understand, Max." She smiles tremulously. "He's yours." She pauses, then adds firmly, "He's all of ours."
After several long minutes, Sam opens the car door. Max and Liz exchange a glance. Max reaches out and squeezes his wife's hand before they follow him.
A lone car is passing, so Max is forced to wait a minute before joining his wife and son. When he makes it to the far side of the vehicle, Sam is crouching. The boy picks up a handful of gravel, then lets it run through his fingers. The sun glints off his dark hair, revealing the reddish highlights he has inherited from his mother. Liz wants him to cut it, but Max knows why he wears it longer. He is at an age where he is embarrassed by his ears. He will outgrow it.
They both know that he will not outgrow wanting to know who he really is. It is why they are here today. Sam asked if they could come on their way to Colorado, where they are meeting everyone else for an early Thanksgiving. They do not wonder how he knew where to direct them. There are some things that they do not try to explain.
"No flash," he says, sounding disappointed. "There's nothing here."
Max lowers himself beside his son. "Close your eyes," he says softly. "He's here."
Max knows this is true. He can feel him. Zan lives in the boy beside him, but he also lives here, where he made his sacrifice. It is what drew Sam to this deserted highway in the first place.
Zan is everywhere here, in the spot where he gave up his life so that Max could live his. Where he died so that this child could be safe.
The baby comes late in the fall.
The day before, Liz is walking in the park, marveling at the trees and their beautiful, coloured leaves. She is surprised that she does not miss the city. She loved New York, but New York belongs to Zan. She is glad that she and Max live in a small town. It is right. They grew up together in a small town, and now they will grow old together in a small town. They will make this their home and they will keep their child safe here.
She and Max are alone for the first time in days. Everyone has arrived for the birth, including her parents and Max's. It has not been easy and, finally, today, she has demanded that Max take her away for a while.
Liz's parents are overwhelmed by it all. They never quite accepted that their daughter was gone, but are now adjusting with difficulty to the fact that she is alive, pregnant, and married to an alien. They love her, of course, but they are over-protective and fearful. Liz knows that if her mother asks her one more time how she is feeling, she will lose her mind.
Max's parents have proven slightly less difficult, but not by much. Isabel told them the truth years ago, and they are overjoyed to have their son back. They, however, still complain that they cannot move to Max and Liz's small town in Canada. It is not that they do not understand that nothing in Roswell can change - that Max and Liz are safe so long as they stay off the FBI's radar - but they are disappointed. Liz suspects that, deep down, the Evans cannot allow themselves to grasp exactly what their son has been through, nor what Zan sacrificed so that he could escape it. Liz knows that Max thinks it is better that this is so. He does not want his parents to be hurt any more than they already have.
While Max and Liz feel that it is safest to continue to live mostly in isolation, at least for the first years of the baby's life, when the question of everyone visiting arose, really, there was no choice. How could they turn any of them away? They all want to support Max and Liz, and, after everything they have all been through, there was no way to say no. They did not want to say no.
Their child will need all of them. With every passing day of her pregnancy, Liz knows this with more certainty. They must all play a role in the raising of this child. It is vital that he be ready. For what, she does not know. It does not frighten her. After everything, she can no longer be frightened by the future. What will be, will be.
But it does not mean that they cannot prepare themselves for what will be. And, so, she welcomes those she loves with open arms, and knows that they will do the same for her child.
"Feeling better?" Max asks. They pause under an oak tree, and he pulls her into his arms, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He has to lean in to do it, because of the size of her belly.
"Much," she whispers, turning so that his arms are wrapped around her and she can lean against him. She closes her eyes, reaching for the connection they share with their child. She can sense that he is doing the same and knows it for a certainty when they both say at the same time, "Tomorrow."
When he is born, Isabel and Lonnie deliver him together. They are close now, the original and her duplicate. Michael and Rath tolerate each other. Ava and Tess, in spite of their identical features, do not have much in common. But Lonnie and Isabel are best friends. They bond over many things, including their loyalty to their brothers, but mostly through their love and devotion to Liz and Max's child.
Liz and Max call him Sam. There is some discussion that he should be named for Zan, but it is not serious, particularly after Rath says, "Zan would be pissed."
"You think?" Max asks. He does not sound surprised.
Rath stares at him for a long moment, then replies, "You should know. Wouldn't you be?"
"Yeah," Max says quietly.
"Why?" Ava interjects. "I mean, it's nice, isn't it?"
"Sam is his own person," Max tells her. "He should have his own name." Rath nods his head in agreement.
Later, they are lying in their bed, their baby asleep between them. Everyone is finally gone again - at least for a little while - and Liz asks Max to elaborate.
"Zan's entire life was wrapped up in being a duplicate," Max explains quietly. "He wouldn't want that for his son. The pressure of being the second anything. Even the second Zan."
And, so, Sam becomes his own person and they all watch him grow with awe and wonder.
"Why did it happen?" Sam finally asks.
They are again driving west. He has been quiet for a while. They have not asked him what he is feeling because they know that he will tell them when he is ready. Besides, when he is upset, their connection to him is strong. It has always been so, since the day of his birth. He is not upset. He is thoughtful.
Max hears Liz release a small breath. He lets her answer, because they have discussed what they will say when this time comes. "Because he loved you, Sweetie. He knew that we would love you, too. And he wanted you to be safe."
They both know still that it is not the only reason. They have both known it since the day they knew he was coming.But it is the main reason. And, for now, because they know it together, it is the only reason that matters.
The End
