Author: Katydidit
Email: NobodysFool2507yahoo.com
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. (heh...more polar now...)
Disclaimer: They're mine! All mine! demented laughter Ooor not. They're Jason Katims and Co.'s. Evil demons. They should be vanquished. blissful grin Ahhh, if only.... cough Move along, folks. No evil plotting to see here. g
Summary: A not-so-short AU fic. Thirteen-year-old Michael is out one night, trying to escape Hank's fury for a while, when he stumbles across someone he hadn't expected to see and realizes that things aren't always what they seem.
Spoilers: Guys, the show's over. If you haven't seen an ep, you're not gonna. Lol. I don't think there's any, though.
A/N: Just read it. :-P
Things Aren't Always What They Seem.
Chapter Five
Just when it seemed that Liz had finally begun to feel safe with the Evanses, her father returned and she had to go home. That morning she was tense at breakfast-worried, Michael knew, about that stupid test.
"Well, Liz," Phillip said, clearing his throat. "It's been a real pleasure having you here."
"Thank you, sir," she mumbled to her plate. "I've enjoyed staying here."
"I want you to know that if you ever need to get away-from whatever-you're always welcome here."
Liz stiffened but said nothing.
"Want me to drive you guys, or do you want to take the bus?"
"I can take the bus, Dad," Isabel said. "Jodee has something she wants to show me."
"What about you three?"
"We can bus it too, Dad. Thanks, though."
"Then you'd better hurry, before you miss it."
Max and Isabel stumbled out of their chairs, kissing their parents, and the four of them ran to the bus stop.
At Liz's usual stop, no one got on. Max turned around.
"Is Maria sick?" he asked her.
"I don't know."
"What on earth will you do without her?"
"Enjoy a day of peace?" She cracked. Max grinned and turned around.
At lunch, Max and Michael walked into the courtyard. Liz was leaning on a tree and looking worried; Alex was sitting by her and picking at the grass. The boys headed over. Liz looked up at then and smiled.
"What's wrong?" Michael asked, shooting his straw wrapped at Alex.
"Just worrying," she said with a sigh. "About that test. Dad'll see it tonight."
The boys were silent and that sank in.
"I'll leave my window open," Max offered. "That's what I do for Michael."
Liz paled, and Michael knew she was remembering Phillip's words about her climbing in any windows because of Geoff.
"I'll be fine. Don't leave your window open. I mean, haven't you ever heard about the Lindbergh baby?"
"He's a bit big to get kidnapped, Liz," Alex said, examining Max. Liz shrugged.
"You never know. Someone might want him." But she smiled kindly and put her hand on his leg to show she was kidding. The tips of his ears reddened in pleasure, and Max looked down at his tray. Not much more was said, and the day went on as usual.
That night, Michael hung out in his room until Hank stumbled out of the trailer, and then went out into the 'living room'. He flipped through the television, then, upon realizing that there was nothing on, sighed and turned it off, flinging the remote away and getting to his feet. Something- some type of sixth sense-was telling him to go to the park. Never one to argue with himself (hah!), he left.
Big surprise. No one was there. Michael shrugged and sat against a tree, picking up a small rock and rubbing it between his fingers. After a while, he heard a small noise and jerked his head up.
"Told you I didn't sneak," Liz said wryly.
"Are you okay He's seen the test?"
"He did." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'll survive."
"Come here."
She sat down painfully, leaning against the tree and holding her side. Not wanting to hurt her, Michael kept his hands to himself, though he wanted to pull her to him.
"How bad was it?"
"No worse than usual." She shifted.
"Well, where'd he get you?"
Liz held out her bandaged arm, wiggling the fingers with a grimace. "He twisted this..." She shifted again, pulling up her shirt to expose her ribs. Michael brushed his fingers gently against the burning skin. "I'll be pretty bruised tomorrow, but I heal fast. No worries."
Michael put his arm around her. "Big worries. I'm going to sound like Max here, but hear me out. You need to tell someone. You need to get help."
"Why?" She pulled away. "So someone can take me away from the only home I've ever known?"
"Liz, he hits you-"
"Michael, he is my father. He doesn't mean it."
Michael knew it was mean, but he reached between them and poked her softly in the ribcage. She hissed and glared at him.
"What the hell did you do that for?" She demanded, shrinking away.
"I didn't mean it."
She sighed in disgust, looking betrayed, and went over to the swings, kicking viciously to get started.
"Isn't that what you just said?" Michael demanded, standing in front of her so she had to stop to avoid hitting him. "He hurts you but he doesn't mean it?"
"Your-whatever-does it to you, doesn't he?"
"That's completely different!"
"How?"
"For one thing, I'm not you!" Michael roared.
"What?" She stood up.
"Hank isn't my father. I have to put up with him, or I'll end up leaving Max and Isabel. And...I'm stronger than you."
Her eyes flashed. "You're basing this on what?" She asked in a quiet voice, one much like Hank used in those rare moments where he was sober and mad at him-not drunk and mad at him. Had Michael not known Liz better he'd be intimidated. Still, he shrugged.
"What, because I'm a girl, you're stronger than I am? Just like that?"
Wait a minute. This was Liz Parker-how many times in the last few weeks had he held her in his arms and felt how small she was-had he seen her cry? Why was he letting her scare him? He stepped forward and straightened up to his full height, forcing her to look up at him.
"Basically."
"I know what you're trying to do, Michael Guerin, and it won't work. You may have more muscle than me, but I've dealt with more than you would know."
Immediately, Michael thought about the Secret. "I highly doubt that," he replied, letting his eyes bore into hers. She wavered and took a small step backwards, stumbling. Michael reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her.
"What?" he asked, taunting. "Do I scare you?"
"What's scary about you?" she challenged, though most of the fight had left her voice, replaced by a hint of a tremor.
"You tell me."
Liz growled in frustration and turned to leave. He grabbed her arm, yanking her back.
"Where are you going?"
"Away from here. This is where I come to... pull myself together-not to be insulted and berated. Let me go."
Michael didn't let her go, but loosened his grip, which he realized must have been crushing. And she'd barely winced. "I'm sorry. I'm just sick of seeing you hurt like this. You're Liz Parker...you shouldn't have to deal with that."
Liz pulled her arm free and stepped forward, running her fingers through his hair. "And you're Michael Guerin...so you should?"
He caught her hand. "It's different for me."
She smiled sardonically. "Let's not start that again."
Michael laughed and released her. "So what are you going to do?"
"Go home...go to bed. I'm really tired."
"That's it?"
She looked like she was going to say something, but her eyes fluttered shut and she pitched forward against him.
"Liz? Liz!" he shook her, pulling her up into his arms at the same time. She didn't answer, so what else could he do? He carried her to the Evanses. He knew she'd be pissed when she woke up (he suppressed that mental 'if'), but this was beyond that. He shifted her in his arms to pound on the door. After a while, the living room light flipped on and Max opened the door, rubbing his eyes.
"Michael, what are you-" But when he saw Liz, he jerked awake. "Bring her in here. What happened?" Michael lay Liz on the couch, reluctant to have her leave his arms
"I don't know," Michael said, examining her pale face. "We were talking, and then she just-fell, or something."
Before either of them could say anything else, Liz stirred and moaned a little. Michael was at her side in an instant.
"Are you okay? Do you know where you are? Say something."
"Give me a second," Liz griped, pressing the heel of her hand to her eyes.
"Are you okay?" Max asked in a hushed voice, glancing at the doorway to make sure his parents hadn't heard.
"I'm...yeah. I'm fine."
"What happened?" Michael repeated. Liz went to sit up, but he grabbed her shoulders and pressed her to the couch. She glared at him.
"My guess is I passed out?"
"Yeah, but why?"
She shrugged.
"It was your dad, wasn't it?" Michael demanded. She shifted and nodded slowly.
"You can't go to sleep," Max said. "It's dangerous."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Liz demanded, pushing Michael's hands off of her and sitting up. Max kind of shrunk away.
"Not sleep?"
"Max, honey, what are you doing up?" Mrs. Evans called on her way into the bathroom.
"Nothing...I'll go back to bed in a minute."
"We'd better get out of here," Michael said. "I'll keep you from going to sleep-it's, like, twelve hours, right?"
Max nodded, and Liz glared. Michael ignored her, though, helping her to her feet. Despite the scene just a few minutes ago, she was walking perfectly fine. Max showed them out of the house, looking after them for a while.
He figured it was safe to take her to the trailer-it was better than sitting out on the streets all night, and Hank was at the bar, anyway. Liz seemed a little nervous, though, standing in the middle of the kitchen and crossing her arms. Michael glanced at her and opened the fridge.
"Hungry? Thirsty?" he asked.
"No," she replied quietly.
"Good." He grabbed the milk carton and emptied the lumps into the sink. "We only have beer and water, anyway." He turned around and grinned. Liz returned the expression halfheartedly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she lied. He went over to her and took her hand, then led her into his room. She stiffened, and he laughed.
"Relax, you goof. This is just in case Hank gets home. It's not likely...even if he does, I bet he'll be so wasted he wouldn't notice if you were running around the trailer with your hair on fire-" He paused, and Liz laughed. "- but just in case." He looked around, and quickly yanked the cover up on his bed, then gestured to it. She laughed and sat. "So. What do you want to do?"
"Sleep?" she asked hopefully.
"Other than that."
Liz sighed and flopped onto her stomach. "I don't know. Talk?"
"About what?" He joined her, laying on his stomach. She just shrugged.
"I don't know."
"For someone so smart, you don't know much." He grinned and lightly tugged her hair. She made a face and punched him in the arm.
"Jerk. And anyway, I never said I was smart."
"No... You just let everyone else think you are."
"Shut up."
"Oh, I hit a nerve." She ignored him. "Fine."
Liz rolled her eyes. "If this place was on fire, and you could only save one thing, what would you save?"
"My ass. Yours too, if you were here." Michael stuck his tongue out at her. "There's nothing else here worth saving. What about you?"
"My journal," she replied immediately.
"Any reason?"
"I've had it since I was five years old. It's...me." She shrugged. "I write everything in it...if I lost it...I don't know what I'd do."
"Fascinating. Okay, my turn."
"Funny. You didn't strike me as a hypothetical questions kind of guy."
"Shut up. I'm not. I'm just keeping you awake." He grinned. "Hm. If you had to give up one of your senses, which would it be?"
"Yeah, give me the hard one. Um. Taste. That way, I wouldn't be able to taste the really gross foods." She grinned.
"But what about the ones you like?"
She shrugged. "I'd learn to live with it. I just picked taste because I love all the other senses. What would you pick?"
He thought. "I don't know. Taste, probably. Or...yeah. I need all the other ones."
"Copycat. Okay. If you could go to one place in the universe, where would you go, and would you stay there?"
Instantly, Michael thought about whichever planet he came from. But he couldn't tell her that. Or could he? He stole a glance sideways-she was looking at him patiently, a smile in her eyes. "Maybe...another planet. Just to see what it was like. I might stay..."
Liz nodded. "I'd go somewhere with snow."
"Why?"
"For the snow, duh. I haven't seen any since I was really little-I don't remember what it's like."
"Would you stay?"
"Maybe. Depending on how I liked the cold."
"Cheater."
"Eh."
"So..." Michael said, looking at his hands. "What's your first memory?"
Liz looked at him strangely. "Why?"
"I don't know. I'm just asking things. Humor me here."
"Fine." She closed her eyes, thinking. Just when he was going to shake her- in case she'd fallen asleep-she opened her eyes, smiling. "That's weird."
"What?"
"My first real memory...is of you guys."
"Us guys?"
"You and Max and Isabel. Kind of. It was the first day of kindergarten, and Mom was dropping me off, and I was scared. I saw you three... Except you weren't really three then...I don't know how well you knew each other. Anyway, Isabel and Max didn't really look like they wanted to go-Isabel was crying, and Max looked like he was about to. But you were standing there, not even looking nervous. I decided if-and forgive me here-it's my inner five-year-old speaking-a yucky boy wasn't afraid, why should I be?"
"So I'm a yucky boy?" He teased, accomplishing his goal of making Liz blush.
"No-"
"I was kidding. So, wait. I'm not a yucky boy? What kind of boy does that make me?" She looked away, ignoring him. "Okay, okay. Wanna know my first memory?"
She looked back, and nodded.
"I remember-" He paused, trying to figure out how much of this he could tell her and how much he should keep Secret. "The road they found us on. Us guys." He grinned. "A car drove up-except we didn't know what it was, so we were scared. Max and Isabel stood there, but I hid behind a rock. These two people got out of the car and took Max and Isabel, and... that was that. Later, I went looking for water, and this old guy jumped out from behind a pile of rocks-scared the holy crap outta me, by the way-and took me to the...wherever it was I went."
Liz was silent, then smiled. He knew she was going to tease him for something. He also knew she'd be kidding. "So the fearless Michael Guerin does get afraid." She smiled kindly. "So, I know how Max and Isabel got their last names-the Evanses adopted them. But how'd you get yours?"
"Probably where I got my first name, too. I don't know. It must have been from my first foster home."
"Your first-how many foster homes have you had?"
"I don't know. At least five. I didn't really count them when I was littler."
She nodded, looking solemn. "That's sad."
"What is?"
"Moving from place to place-no family. It must have been hard."
"It wasn't. In kindergarten I found Max and Isabel, and they became my family. I was fine."
Liz nodded again, saying nothing. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at him and smiled. "What do you think is the weirdest thing about you?"
"I like Tabasco sauce."
"Hardly remarkable, Guerin. You're in New Mexico."
"On ice cream?"
"Ew."
"It's good."
"Sounds rancid."
"Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it. Your turn."
"I have a birthmark shaped like a bear."
"This I've gotta see. Where is it? Can I see it?"
"Just under my shoulder blade..."
"Let's see."
Liz laughed and sat up, pulling her shirt up so he could see. Sure enough, right under her right shoulder blade was the unmistakable shape of a tiny bear-not just the head, either-the entire body of a bear, shrunk down so that it would fit on Michael's thumbnail. He reached out and brushed a finger across it, and Liz shivered, quickly yanking her shirt back down. She lay back on her stomach, as did Michael.
"Sorry..."
"For what? Oh. No. It was...I got the chills, is all." She smiled.
"Oh. Hey, you're not going home, but isn't your dad going to be worried?"
"No. Whenever he..." She looked away. "He leaves for a day, then comes back and acts like nothing happened.
Michael was silent for a while, but resumed talking when he was afraid she was going to sleep. Their conversation went on like this until Michael looked at the clock and realized that it was nine o'clock.
"It's probably safe now," he said, yawning for the hundredth time that night and looking over at Liz. She laughed.
"Finally."
"Want me to walk you home?"
"Michael, I have been awake for twenty-four hours. I am not walking home right now."
"Then what are you planning on doing?" he asked, though he had a hunch. She looked at him and rolled onto her side, curling up a little.
"I'm sleeping right here. Don't try to move me, either. I may look small but you'll never lift me once I've gone all limp."
"I've done it before," he replied, sticking his tongue out at her.
"You want to carry me home, be my guest. I'll just be asleep..." she let out a small yawn and almost immediately was asleep. Michael laughed and pulled his blanket up so it covered her over, then lay down next to her. She wouldn't have a problem with it-it was his bed, and she was dead to the world, anyway.
They slept.
Email: NobodysFool2507yahoo.com
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. (heh...more polar now...)
Disclaimer: They're mine! All mine! demented laughter Ooor not. They're Jason Katims and Co.'s. Evil demons. They should be vanquished. blissful grin Ahhh, if only.... cough Move along, folks. No evil plotting to see here. g
Summary: A not-so-short AU fic. Thirteen-year-old Michael is out one night, trying to escape Hank's fury for a while, when he stumbles across someone he hadn't expected to see and realizes that things aren't always what they seem.
Spoilers: Guys, the show's over. If you haven't seen an ep, you're not gonna. Lol. I don't think there's any, though.
A/N: Just read it. :-P
Things Aren't Always What They Seem.
Chapter Five
Just when it seemed that Liz had finally begun to feel safe with the Evanses, her father returned and she had to go home. That morning she was tense at breakfast-worried, Michael knew, about that stupid test.
"Well, Liz," Phillip said, clearing his throat. "It's been a real pleasure having you here."
"Thank you, sir," she mumbled to her plate. "I've enjoyed staying here."
"I want you to know that if you ever need to get away-from whatever-you're always welcome here."
Liz stiffened but said nothing.
"Want me to drive you guys, or do you want to take the bus?"
"I can take the bus, Dad," Isabel said. "Jodee has something she wants to show me."
"What about you three?"
"We can bus it too, Dad. Thanks, though."
"Then you'd better hurry, before you miss it."
Max and Isabel stumbled out of their chairs, kissing their parents, and the four of them ran to the bus stop.
At Liz's usual stop, no one got on. Max turned around.
"Is Maria sick?" he asked her.
"I don't know."
"What on earth will you do without her?"
"Enjoy a day of peace?" She cracked. Max grinned and turned around.
At lunch, Max and Michael walked into the courtyard. Liz was leaning on a tree and looking worried; Alex was sitting by her and picking at the grass. The boys headed over. Liz looked up at then and smiled.
"What's wrong?" Michael asked, shooting his straw wrapped at Alex.
"Just worrying," she said with a sigh. "About that test. Dad'll see it tonight."
The boys were silent and that sank in.
"I'll leave my window open," Max offered. "That's what I do for Michael."
Liz paled, and Michael knew she was remembering Phillip's words about her climbing in any windows because of Geoff.
"I'll be fine. Don't leave your window open. I mean, haven't you ever heard about the Lindbergh baby?"
"He's a bit big to get kidnapped, Liz," Alex said, examining Max. Liz shrugged.
"You never know. Someone might want him." But she smiled kindly and put her hand on his leg to show she was kidding. The tips of his ears reddened in pleasure, and Max looked down at his tray. Not much more was said, and the day went on as usual.
That night, Michael hung out in his room until Hank stumbled out of the trailer, and then went out into the 'living room'. He flipped through the television, then, upon realizing that there was nothing on, sighed and turned it off, flinging the remote away and getting to his feet. Something- some type of sixth sense-was telling him to go to the park. Never one to argue with himself (hah!), he left.
Big surprise. No one was there. Michael shrugged and sat against a tree, picking up a small rock and rubbing it between his fingers. After a while, he heard a small noise and jerked his head up.
"Told you I didn't sneak," Liz said wryly.
"Are you okay He's seen the test?"
"He did." She wrapped her arms around herself. "I'll survive."
"Come here."
She sat down painfully, leaning against the tree and holding her side. Not wanting to hurt her, Michael kept his hands to himself, though he wanted to pull her to him.
"How bad was it?"
"No worse than usual." She shifted.
"Well, where'd he get you?"
Liz held out her bandaged arm, wiggling the fingers with a grimace. "He twisted this..." She shifted again, pulling up her shirt to expose her ribs. Michael brushed his fingers gently against the burning skin. "I'll be pretty bruised tomorrow, but I heal fast. No worries."
Michael put his arm around her. "Big worries. I'm going to sound like Max here, but hear me out. You need to tell someone. You need to get help."
"Why?" She pulled away. "So someone can take me away from the only home I've ever known?"
"Liz, he hits you-"
"Michael, he is my father. He doesn't mean it."
Michael knew it was mean, but he reached between them and poked her softly in the ribcage. She hissed and glared at him.
"What the hell did you do that for?" She demanded, shrinking away.
"I didn't mean it."
She sighed in disgust, looking betrayed, and went over to the swings, kicking viciously to get started.
"Isn't that what you just said?" Michael demanded, standing in front of her so she had to stop to avoid hitting him. "He hurts you but he doesn't mean it?"
"Your-whatever-does it to you, doesn't he?"
"That's completely different!"
"How?"
"For one thing, I'm not you!" Michael roared.
"What?" She stood up.
"Hank isn't my father. I have to put up with him, or I'll end up leaving Max and Isabel. And...I'm stronger than you."
Her eyes flashed. "You're basing this on what?" She asked in a quiet voice, one much like Hank used in those rare moments where he was sober and mad at him-not drunk and mad at him. Had Michael not known Liz better he'd be intimidated. Still, he shrugged.
"What, because I'm a girl, you're stronger than I am? Just like that?"
Wait a minute. This was Liz Parker-how many times in the last few weeks had he held her in his arms and felt how small she was-had he seen her cry? Why was he letting her scare him? He stepped forward and straightened up to his full height, forcing her to look up at him.
"Basically."
"I know what you're trying to do, Michael Guerin, and it won't work. You may have more muscle than me, but I've dealt with more than you would know."
Immediately, Michael thought about the Secret. "I highly doubt that," he replied, letting his eyes bore into hers. She wavered and took a small step backwards, stumbling. Michael reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her.
"What?" he asked, taunting. "Do I scare you?"
"What's scary about you?" she challenged, though most of the fight had left her voice, replaced by a hint of a tremor.
"You tell me."
Liz growled in frustration and turned to leave. He grabbed her arm, yanking her back.
"Where are you going?"
"Away from here. This is where I come to... pull myself together-not to be insulted and berated. Let me go."
Michael didn't let her go, but loosened his grip, which he realized must have been crushing. And she'd barely winced. "I'm sorry. I'm just sick of seeing you hurt like this. You're Liz Parker...you shouldn't have to deal with that."
Liz pulled her arm free and stepped forward, running her fingers through his hair. "And you're Michael Guerin...so you should?"
He caught her hand. "It's different for me."
She smiled sardonically. "Let's not start that again."
Michael laughed and released her. "So what are you going to do?"
"Go home...go to bed. I'm really tired."
"That's it?"
She looked like she was going to say something, but her eyes fluttered shut and she pitched forward against him.
"Liz? Liz!" he shook her, pulling her up into his arms at the same time. She didn't answer, so what else could he do? He carried her to the Evanses. He knew she'd be pissed when she woke up (he suppressed that mental 'if'), but this was beyond that. He shifted her in his arms to pound on the door. After a while, the living room light flipped on and Max opened the door, rubbing his eyes.
"Michael, what are you-" But when he saw Liz, he jerked awake. "Bring her in here. What happened?" Michael lay Liz on the couch, reluctant to have her leave his arms
"I don't know," Michael said, examining her pale face. "We were talking, and then she just-fell, or something."
Before either of them could say anything else, Liz stirred and moaned a little. Michael was at her side in an instant.
"Are you okay? Do you know where you are? Say something."
"Give me a second," Liz griped, pressing the heel of her hand to her eyes.
"Are you okay?" Max asked in a hushed voice, glancing at the doorway to make sure his parents hadn't heard.
"I'm...yeah. I'm fine."
"What happened?" Michael repeated. Liz went to sit up, but he grabbed her shoulders and pressed her to the couch. She glared at him.
"My guess is I passed out?"
"Yeah, but why?"
She shrugged.
"It was your dad, wasn't it?" Michael demanded. She shifted and nodded slowly.
"You can't go to sleep," Max said. "It's dangerous."
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Liz demanded, pushing Michael's hands off of her and sitting up. Max kind of shrunk away.
"Not sleep?"
"Max, honey, what are you doing up?" Mrs. Evans called on her way into the bathroom.
"Nothing...I'll go back to bed in a minute."
"We'd better get out of here," Michael said. "I'll keep you from going to sleep-it's, like, twelve hours, right?"
Max nodded, and Liz glared. Michael ignored her, though, helping her to her feet. Despite the scene just a few minutes ago, she was walking perfectly fine. Max showed them out of the house, looking after them for a while.
He figured it was safe to take her to the trailer-it was better than sitting out on the streets all night, and Hank was at the bar, anyway. Liz seemed a little nervous, though, standing in the middle of the kitchen and crossing her arms. Michael glanced at her and opened the fridge.
"Hungry? Thirsty?" he asked.
"No," she replied quietly.
"Good." He grabbed the milk carton and emptied the lumps into the sink. "We only have beer and water, anyway." He turned around and grinned. Liz returned the expression halfheartedly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she lied. He went over to her and took her hand, then led her into his room. She stiffened, and he laughed.
"Relax, you goof. This is just in case Hank gets home. It's not likely...even if he does, I bet he'll be so wasted he wouldn't notice if you were running around the trailer with your hair on fire-" He paused, and Liz laughed. "- but just in case." He looked around, and quickly yanked the cover up on his bed, then gestured to it. She laughed and sat. "So. What do you want to do?"
"Sleep?" she asked hopefully.
"Other than that."
Liz sighed and flopped onto her stomach. "I don't know. Talk?"
"About what?" He joined her, laying on his stomach. She just shrugged.
"I don't know."
"For someone so smart, you don't know much." He grinned and lightly tugged her hair. She made a face and punched him in the arm.
"Jerk. And anyway, I never said I was smart."
"No... You just let everyone else think you are."
"Shut up."
"Oh, I hit a nerve." She ignored him. "Fine."
Liz rolled her eyes. "If this place was on fire, and you could only save one thing, what would you save?"
"My ass. Yours too, if you were here." Michael stuck his tongue out at her. "There's nothing else here worth saving. What about you?"
"My journal," she replied immediately.
"Any reason?"
"I've had it since I was five years old. It's...me." She shrugged. "I write everything in it...if I lost it...I don't know what I'd do."
"Fascinating. Okay, my turn."
"Funny. You didn't strike me as a hypothetical questions kind of guy."
"Shut up. I'm not. I'm just keeping you awake." He grinned. "Hm. If you had to give up one of your senses, which would it be?"
"Yeah, give me the hard one. Um. Taste. That way, I wouldn't be able to taste the really gross foods." She grinned.
"But what about the ones you like?"
She shrugged. "I'd learn to live with it. I just picked taste because I love all the other senses. What would you pick?"
He thought. "I don't know. Taste, probably. Or...yeah. I need all the other ones."
"Copycat. Okay. If you could go to one place in the universe, where would you go, and would you stay there?"
Instantly, Michael thought about whichever planet he came from. But he couldn't tell her that. Or could he? He stole a glance sideways-she was looking at him patiently, a smile in her eyes. "Maybe...another planet. Just to see what it was like. I might stay..."
Liz nodded. "I'd go somewhere with snow."
"Why?"
"For the snow, duh. I haven't seen any since I was really little-I don't remember what it's like."
"Would you stay?"
"Maybe. Depending on how I liked the cold."
"Cheater."
"Eh."
"So..." Michael said, looking at his hands. "What's your first memory?"
Liz looked at him strangely. "Why?"
"I don't know. I'm just asking things. Humor me here."
"Fine." She closed her eyes, thinking. Just when he was going to shake her- in case she'd fallen asleep-she opened her eyes, smiling. "That's weird."
"What?"
"My first real memory...is of you guys."
"Us guys?"
"You and Max and Isabel. Kind of. It was the first day of kindergarten, and Mom was dropping me off, and I was scared. I saw you three... Except you weren't really three then...I don't know how well you knew each other. Anyway, Isabel and Max didn't really look like they wanted to go-Isabel was crying, and Max looked like he was about to. But you were standing there, not even looking nervous. I decided if-and forgive me here-it's my inner five-year-old speaking-a yucky boy wasn't afraid, why should I be?"
"So I'm a yucky boy?" He teased, accomplishing his goal of making Liz blush.
"No-"
"I was kidding. So, wait. I'm not a yucky boy? What kind of boy does that make me?" She looked away, ignoring him. "Okay, okay. Wanna know my first memory?"
She looked back, and nodded.
"I remember-" He paused, trying to figure out how much of this he could tell her and how much he should keep Secret. "The road they found us on. Us guys." He grinned. "A car drove up-except we didn't know what it was, so we were scared. Max and Isabel stood there, but I hid behind a rock. These two people got out of the car and took Max and Isabel, and... that was that. Later, I went looking for water, and this old guy jumped out from behind a pile of rocks-scared the holy crap outta me, by the way-and took me to the...wherever it was I went."
Liz was silent, then smiled. He knew she was going to tease him for something. He also knew she'd be kidding. "So the fearless Michael Guerin does get afraid." She smiled kindly. "So, I know how Max and Isabel got their last names-the Evanses adopted them. But how'd you get yours?"
"Probably where I got my first name, too. I don't know. It must have been from my first foster home."
"Your first-how many foster homes have you had?"
"I don't know. At least five. I didn't really count them when I was littler."
She nodded, looking solemn. "That's sad."
"What is?"
"Moving from place to place-no family. It must have been hard."
"It wasn't. In kindergarten I found Max and Isabel, and they became my family. I was fine."
Liz nodded again, saying nothing. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked at him and smiled. "What do you think is the weirdest thing about you?"
"I like Tabasco sauce."
"Hardly remarkable, Guerin. You're in New Mexico."
"On ice cream?"
"Ew."
"It's good."
"Sounds rancid."
"Hey, don't knock it 'till you've tried it. Your turn."
"I have a birthmark shaped like a bear."
"This I've gotta see. Where is it? Can I see it?"
"Just under my shoulder blade..."
"Let's see."
Liz laughed and sat up, pulling her shirt up so he could see. Sure enough, right under her right shoulder blade was the unmistakable shape of a tiny bear-not just the head, either-the entire body of a bear, shrunk down so that it would fit on Michael's thumbnail. He reached out and brushed a finger across it, and Liz shivered, quickly yanking her shirt back down. She lay back on her stomach, as did Michael.
"Sorry..."
"For what? Oh. No. It was...I got the chills, is all." She smiled.
"Oh. Hey, you're not going home, but isn't your dad going to be worried?"
"No. Whenever he..." She looked away. "He leaves for a day, then comes back and acts like nothing happened.
Michael was silent for a while, but resumed talking when he was afraid she was going to sleep. Their conversation went on like this until Michael looked at the clock and realized that it was nine o'clock.
"It's probably safe now," he said, yawning for the hundredth time that night and looking over at Liz. She laughed.
"Finally."
"Want me to walk you home?"
"Michael, I have been awake for twenty-four hours. I am not walking home right now."
"Then what are you planning on doing?" he asked, though he had a hunch. She looked at him and rolled onto her side, curling up a little.
"I'm sleeping right here. Don't try to move me, either. I may look small but you'll never lift me once I've gone all limp."
"I've done it before," he replied, sticking his tongue out at her.
"You want to carry me home, be my guest. I'll just be asleep..." she let out a small yawn and almost immediately was asleep. Michael laughed and pulled his blanket up so it covered her over, then lay down next to her. She wouldn't have a problem with it-it was his bed, and she was dead to the world, anyway.
They slept.