Chapter Three – New York City
"Come on, let's get outta here," said Rath, grabbing Maria by the arm. "We can go back to my crib. Come on." He started walking and turned back to see if Maria was following him. "Hey, it's Maria, right?"
"Angel, I go by Angel now," Maria said. She reached into her bag with trembling hands and withdrew a package of cigarettes and her lighter. She pulled out a cigarette and fumbled with the lighter, trying to get it to light.
"Here, let me," said Rath. He took the lighter from Maria's hands and lit it. He cupped his hands around it and the end of the cigarette while Maria inhaled deeply.
"Thanks," she said as he clicked the lighter shut. He passed it to her, and she slipped it carefully back into her bag, drawing deeply on the cigarette.
"Ya know, that stuff will kill ya," Rath said, conversationally, walking down the street.
"Ask me if I care," Maria said. She blew out a stream of smoke into the air and shot a withering glare at Rath. "Dead or alive, it doesn't matter to me."
"Whatever," said Rath. He took off at a fast clip, looking over his shoulder occasionally to make sure that Maria kept up. Several blocks later, he stopped at the steps of a decrepit building, too run down for even a crack house.
"This is it?" Maria asked, skeptically.
"Beats the streets," said Rath. "You comin, or what?"
"Yeah, sure," said Maria. She dropped her cigarette on the sidewalk, and ground it out with the sole of her shoe. "Lead on McDuff."
Maria followed Rath up the stone stairs and through a door that hung on its hinges by only a miracle. The hallway Rath led her down needed to be completely redone before it could even be condemned. Something scampered across her foot, and she shuddered slightly, hoping it was only a mouse and not a rat.
"Come on, I'm starving," Rath said. He pushed opened a door and walked into on of the apartments. Maria followed him hesitantly unsure of what she would find. She was surprised to find that it wasn't the cesspool Max had described after his trip to New York.
"So uh, you want somethin' to eat?" Rath asked. He looked into the battered refrigerator and pulled out a large cardboard box. "I got pizza."
"Sure, fine," said Maria. She perched carefully on a battered sofa, reminiscent of the one that graced Michael's apartment. When it didn't collapse, she relaxed against the back and looked around with a jaundiced eye. It sure as hell wasn't house beautiful, but it beat sleeping on the streets, or worse, back at her place with the dead psycho john.
"So, Rath said, placing the cardboard box of pizza on the couch beside Maria. "Did you'se guys Zan heal you or somethin'? That how come you got powers?" He passed his hand over the cold pizza and the cheese began to bubble and steam rose from the surface.
"No, Max never healed me," she replied, shortly. She reached into the box and pulled out a slice and took a bite to forestall any further conversation, but it didn't work.
"Then how come you got powers? Don't tell me you don't got 'em. I could feel them."
"So, where's Lonnie?" Maria asked, trying to buy herself some time.
"Dead," Rath responded bluntly. "She got shot in a drive by one night. You satisfied?"
"No," said Maria. "What about Ava? Did she ever come back?"
"Nah, I ain't seen her since we high tailed it out of that hick Mayberry town of yours," said Rath. "Now are you gonna tell me how you got powers?"
Maria fumbled in her bag and pulled out the cigarettes and lighter and quickly lit a cigarette. She filled her lungs with smoke and felt the soothing rush of nicotine rush through her body. She relaxed and exhaled, sending a stream of smoke into the room while she though about what to say.
"Right before Michael died, or maybe it was as he was dying, I kissed him. There was a flash of light. I though at the time it was him, dying, but I guess he was giving me his powers. I don't even know if he meant to do it. I'm almost positive he didn't mean to do it. I didn't know he did it until tonight," Maria explained.
"Yeah, tonight, what happened tonight?" Rath asked, curiously. "I mean, somethin' set it off. You didn't just whack that guy for the hell of it, right?"
"Word on the street is that some guy was killing the working girls. One of the regular cops gave me a heads up and warned me to stick to regulars for a while. I decided not to listen, and I ended up with the psycho."
She paused and took another drag from the cigarette in her hand. She didn't want to talk about it, she didn't want to be here, and she sure as hell didn't want any freaking alien powers. The last thing she wanted was to get sucked back into the alien abyss again. Or at least that's what she was telling herself.
She dropped her cigarette into a discarded can on the floor, and stared off into the room. She fidgeted with the heavy lighter as she thought about what to say next.
"So, whatcha doin with somethin' that big and heavy, anyhow?" Rath asked, more as a way of distracting her then anything else.
"Oh, it was Michael's," Maria replied. "I don't know why he carried the stupid thing. I mean, the guy could light a fire with his hand. Why use a lighter, right? But he always carried it with him. I, I took it off of his body and used it to blow the truck up after he died."
"What?" asked Rath, disconcerted by the abrupt change in topic.
"Michael knew he was dying," Maria said, tears shining in her eyes from the dim light of Rath's apartment. "He told me to get out of the truck and run, that he was going to blow it up. He thought the Special Unit would think that we had both died in the blast, and I'd have a chance to live a normal life. As if I could ever live a normal life without him," she added bitterly.
"But he died," Rath prompted.
"Yeah, he died, and I had to blow up the truck, and I did and here I am, and we all lived unhappily ever after, the end. Now will you shut the fuck up?" Maria shouted. She turned her head quickly, trying to hide the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, but she wasn't quick enough. Rath reached out in an unprecedented show of gentleness and compassion and pulled her to him and held her tightly.
Maria felt as if a damn inside of her exploded, and all the grief she had been holding inside began to spill out. She cried longer and harder than she ever had before in her life. She mourned the loss of her friends, and the man she loved, but most of all; she mourned the loss of herself.
Maria pushed away from Rath and looked up into his face so like Michael's and yet so different. She looked into his eyes and felt a connection form between them, and without hesitation she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him deeply. His tongue was pierced, and she found the sensation of his stud in her mouth strangely erotic. The kiss deepened, and she began to ease him out of his shirt, her experienced hands divesting him of that garment before he was even aware of what was happening.
"I ain't him ya know," he said once. "I ain't Michael. I can't be him for you."
"I don't want you to be him, Rath. I need you to be you. I need you."
Maria stood up and smiled and held her hand out to Rath. He rose and stood beside her and wordlessly motioned toward the bedroom. She followed his lead and found herself in a dark and dreary room with nothing but a mattress on the floor. She kicked off her shoes and using both her hands pulled her shirt up over her head, and then slipped out of her skirt. Rath's breath caught at the sight of naked body standing before him, and he quickly pulled off the rest of his clothes. He knelt down on the edge of the mattress and opened his arms to Maria. She stepped into his arms and the fell to the mattress together.
The morning sun struggled to make its way through the grime- encrusted windows. Maria stretched languidly and smiled to herself. She felt – she felt alive. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. Since before Alex died. She looked at the man lying next to her on the bed and smiled. It was because of him, but it wasn't. Rath was the catalyst that allowed her to live, but she was the one doing the living. And she knew that it wouldn't be here, and it wouldn't be with Rath. He was right, he wasn't Michael, and he couldn't be Michael, and she didn't want him to be. She didn't know what she wanted, but she was pretty sure it didn't include Rath.
She slipped out of the bed carefully and pulled her clothing on. She looked at what she was wearing in disgust, amazed at what she had let her life become. She turned and looked around the room and smiled as an idea took root in her mind. She pressed a hand to the wall, and a bright rainbow took shape and spread across the faded dingy wallpaper.
Maria smiled at her handiwork, grabbed her shoes and walked quietly out of the room. She spied her bag sitting on the decrepit couch and she grabbed it. Michael's large lighter tumbled to the ground and she stopped and stared at it. Acting on impulse, she picked it up and walked quietly back into the bedroom and placed it gently in Rath's outstretched hand. Giving his slumbering body one last fond smile, she walked out the door and into her new life. The life she chose. She could go anywhere and do anything; maybe she'd even go home again.
Rath woke slowly, and rolled over on his side and looked for Maria. But he knew she was gone. His hand brushed the cold metal of the lighter and he grabbed it and looked at it and smiled. He knew Angel was gone forever. Maria was too. He knew she wouldn't be back, but he also knew she would be okay.