Disclaimer: Roswell, and it's characters do not belong to me. Melinda Metz, Jason Katims and 20th Century Fox have that particular pleasure. I'm simply borrowing them until the Season 2 DVD's get released.

Tomorrow's Yet to Come

Rating: PG – R

Chapter Four – On the Run

Liz turned back into the bedroom and began to dress rapidly while Max talked with Justin and Steve. She went to the closet and pulled out two large duffle bags and began to cram clothes and toiletries into both. She ran a brush through her hair, and pulled it back into a no nonsense ponytail. When she was done, she walked into the living room and looked at the others.

"What did you tell them?" she asked Max.

"Not much," said Steve, belligerently. "I thought we were your friends. Fred is dead, and he seems to have been stalking you guys or something. Maybe you found out he was spying on you, and you decided to take care of him yourself."

"Sit down, Steve," said Liz. "I'm going to tell you a story."

"Liz, no!" said Max. "We can't."

"We have to," said Liz. "They're in as much danger as we are. Look, I've already packed. Go get dressed, and I'll give these guys the short version."

"The short version of what?" asked Justin.

"First, Max and I didn't do anything to Fred. You do know that, don't you?" She waited until both men nodded reluctantly. "Okay, I'm going to tell you something, and it's going to sound weird, but I want you to promise me you won't say a word until I'm finished."

Liz gave them an abridged version of the past three years and sat back while they tried to digest the information.

"No fucking way," said Steve. "That's bullshit, and you know it."

Liz didn't answer, she simply placed her hand on the coffee table in front of them and it changed from a honey oak color to an almost black color.

"Holy shit," said Justin. "You're aliens."

"No, we're human. Max was simply born on another planet. He is still as human as you or me," said Liz.

"Are you going to kill us?" whispered Steve.

"God, Steve, I've cooked for you, and partied with you, do I strike you as a homicidal maniac or something?" snapped Liz.

"Normally, I'd say no, but right now, I'm not to sure," he confessed.

"Look, we're still the same people you met three weeks ago," said Liz. "And now, we need your help."

"Help, how?" asked Justin.

"Two things," said Liz. "Did you all the police yet?"

"No," said Steve. "We freaked and came here right away."

"Good," said Liz. "First I have to know, do you believe us, and trust us?" She waited until the two of them nodded, then continued. "We have to get the surveillance equipment out that apartment right now. Max!" she called out to her husband. "Can you go help the guys, right now?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," said Max, pulling a shirt over his head as he walked back into the living room.

"Alien, huh?" said Steve, still a bit doubtful.

"We prefer the term 'Not of this Earth,'" Max and Liz said together.

"Wha?" queried a clearly puzzled Steve.

"Never mind, I'll explain on the way," said Max. "Can we trust Bill and Chuck?" he asked.

"With your life," said Justin.

"Good, cause that's what it is," said Max. "Call them, don't tell them anything on the phone other than we need help. Have them meet Liz here."

Okay, man," said Justin. He pulled out his cell phone and placed the call even as they walked out of the apartment.

Liz began to systematically pack the personal belongings that they couldn't carry with them, stopping periodically to wipe a stray tear from her face. When she had packed all she could, she began a thorough search of the apartment to try and locate the surveillance cameras. Her eyes landed on the grate covering the air duct, and she knew that she was going to be successful. Climbing up on a chair, she used her powers to remove the grate, and removed the camera she found inside. She quickly replaced the grate, and then put the camera on the couch, and covered the lens with a pillow.

She continued to search, and found three more cameras, located in the kitchen, the bathroom, and the bedroom she shared with Max.

"Damn it," she said to the empty room. "Who is doing this? It can't be Tess; I killed the bitch myself. And Rath and Lonnie are dead too. Who is looking for us, now?"

There was a knock at the door, and she approached it cautiously, looking through the peephole before she opened it. Bill and Chuck were waiting in the hallway; both looking very disheveled, and very tired. She opened the door, and pulled them both into the apartment, and closed the door behind them.

"This had better be good, Evans," said Bill. "I was asleep you know."

"It's not good, but it is important," said Liz. "I need your help. I have to tell you something, but before I do, I have to know that you won't tell anybody else."

"It's like not anything illegal, is it?" said Chuck. "Because except for the occasional beer blast with under age coed's, I'm not too into breaking the law."

"Just listen," said Liz. And so for the second time that night, she relayed the story of the Roswell crash, and it's aftermath. She spoke quickly, but dispassionately, never once trying to use sympathy to gain their cooperation.

"So, you're telling me that you have these alien powers now, and that Max landed here in the Roswell crash. Jesus, Evans, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were doing some serious drugs," said Chuck.

Liz didn't say anything; she stood up, walked across the room, and touched one of the walls in the living room. It immediately went from the soft golden yellow, back to the boring institutional beige that covered the walls in all the other apartments in the building.

"Shit," said Chuck. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and face, and then looked again at the wall. Liz moved to another wall and restored the color there, and turned to him.

"Okay," said Bill. "I'm guessing you didn't call us over here just because you had a burning desire to share this little secret with us."

"You guessed right," said Liz. "You don't know how much I don't want to tell you the next part, but I have to. It's about Fred."

"Yeah, where is he?" asked Chuck. "I figured he'd be right in the thick of this. Oh wait, he had a date with that chick with the weird name."

"I, God, this is so hard to say," said Liz, her voice filled with tears.

"Where is Fred, Liz? Is he okay?" demanded Chuck.

"No," said Liz, tears coursing down her face. "He's not okay. He was killed tonight. We think it was another alien. Justin and Steve found him dead, and he had a handprint on his chest."

"Handprint, like the one Max gave you when he healed you?" demanded Bill.

Liz nodded but didn't say anything; she just waited and let the guys formulate their own questions. The one they came up with shocked her beyond belief.

"Liz," said Bill kneeling down before her. "Are you afraid Max did it? Are you asking us to protect you? We will you know. We can get you out of town right away. He'll never find you."

"No, it wasn't Max," said Liz. "He was here with me all night. Right now, he's down in Fred's apartment with Justin and Steve. I know he's going to try and heal Fred, but I think it's too late. But there's more I didn't tell you yet. When Steve and Justin found Fred, they also found all sorts of surveillance equipment in his apartment, and I found these, here." She lifted the cushions to reveal the cameras she had hidden.

"I think whoever did this to Fred, was using him all along to find out about Max and me," she explained. We have to call the authorities about Fred, but before we can do that, we have to get the surveillance equipment out of Fred's apartment."

"What can we do to help," said Bill, suddenly. "I believe it wasn't you or Max who did this to Fred. You guys were two of the few people who saw past the geeky outer Fred to the prince that was inside of him."

"Thank you," said Liz. She went to a drawer in the kitchen and pulled something out. "Here," she said, handing the bundle to Bill. "This envelope has $5000.00 in it. Can you guys get all our personal stuff packed up, along with all the surveillance stuff?" She scribbled an address on a piece of paper and handed it to Bill. "This is my parent's address in Roswell. Ship all our personal stuff to them please. Keep the furniture, the TV, the stereo, whatever. Just get our stuff to my parents."

"Yeah, sure, anything," said Bill. "Where are you guys going to be?"

"Running for our lives," said Liz.