Author: Katydidit/PolarEmeralds
Email:
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst (not so much angst...shrug Maybe)
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. (heh...though maybe Dreamers are forming an alliance against me? Nah...that'd be too much to hope for. )
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.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem Chapter Ten
Michael had never known why people didn't like hospitals-he'd been in a few, and the smell wasn't that bad...it wasn't too creepy. But now, slouching in the uncomfortable chair whose padding had long ago been worn out by hundreds of people sitting and waiting, just like he was, Michael understood. It seemed like it'd been forever since he'd watched the nurses load Liz onto a stretcher and push her through those doors, and no one had come out. It was like the building had swallowed her up without so much as a burp. Phillip shifted in the seat next to him.
"I know you're worried, son, but she's safe here. Safer here than at home... I never should have let Diane talk me into waiting-not when a little girl's life hung in the balance." He trailed off in self-loathing. Michael said nothing. He was dead tired, but just as his eyelids would slide closed, another shot of adrenaline would rush through his veins, and he'd jerk awake. A doctor in the usual white coat approached them.
"You brought Elizabeth Parker?" he asked, staring at them from over his glasses. Mr. Evans nodded.
"Is she okay? What happened?" Michael demanded. He had no time for the usual waiting room small-talk.
"We believe that her episode was caused largely by moderate internal bleeding and shock."
"Is she okay?"
"She should be fine. We've got a blood transfusion going, and she is fully awake now, so if you want to see her, come with me."
Mr. Evans followed, but Michael hung back. The two men paused.
"I...she won't want to see me. I swore to her that I wouldn't tell."
"Of course she will, Michael. You-"
"Michael?" The doctor started forward. "You're Michael?"
"Yeah..."
"Oh, trust me, son. She wants to see you."
"How do you know?"
"She was crying for a Michael when she woke up."
"See? Mr. Evans said, nudging him forward. "I told you. Come on."
They continued down the hall, to a small room. Liz was sitting up weakly in the bed, and when she saw them, she looked down at her hands, avoiding their eyes.
The doctor clasped Michael on the shoulder and exited. Mr. Evans left as well... Michael figured he realized that he'd be doing enough talking soon enough-might as well let the two of them talk. Michael pulled a chair over.
"Liz, I'm sorry. I lied to you. I told you I wouldn't tell, and then I did."
She was silent. "I'm not stupid, even though I act like it sometimes... If you hadn't told, I'd probably be in a lot of trouble right now..."
He shrugged. "How do you feel?"
"Sore." She shifted. "Tired. I have a headache."
"That all comes with emptying your blood supply into your body, I guess," Michael said with a little smile. Liz scoffed.
"Yeah... What do you think is going to happen?" her voice shook, and Michael reached out and took her hand, mindful of the IV.
"You'll go somewhere safe. Where your father can't get to you."
"Away from here..." Liz said fearfully.
"No. Not away from here. I won't let that happen. Neither will the Evanses."
"So both of them know." Liz shifted again.
"What'd you expect?"
She shrugged.
"You scared the crap outta Max, though. Thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head." He grinned, and she laughed at the mental image.
"Poor Max."
He held her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her skin where the needle was sticking out.
"Poor Liz."
"Not poor Liz. No pity, remember?"
"I know, I know."
They were silent for another few minutes, and then Liz spoke up again, her voice shaking.
"I don't want to leave here, Michael," she whispered. He climbed up into the bed with her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She put her head on his chest, and the last thing Michael remembered hearing was Mr. Evans convincing the doctors to let him stay.
The next morning, Michael was awakened by a nurse dropping her clipboard. He felt Liz jump next to him, and they both peered at her through sleepy eyes.
"Sorry... I didn't mean to wake you. You two looked so cute."
Liz sat up. "When can I go home?"
"You'll have to ask the doctor, honey. But do you want me to take that IV out? It looks like it's done."
"Yes, please," Liz said, holding out her arm. The nurse laughed and turned the machine off, then donned a pair of rubber gloves and carefully pulled the needle out. Liz groaned and hid her face in Michael's chest. Michael and the nurse laughed.
"Did that hurt?" she asked.
"No..." Liz said, peeking to make sure the nurse was done. "What time is it?"
"Seven. Are you ready for breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat," Michael said.
"Listen to him, Elizabeth. Your body is trying to heal itself-it needs food."
Liz sighed. "Fine."
"Good girl. I'll go get a tray. I'll bring you one, too, if you promise not to tell on me."
"I won't," Michael said with a grin. The nurse left, and Mr. Evans entered.
"'Morning, guys. How are you feeling, Liz?"
"Fine. When am I going home?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Liz, I spoke to a social worker this morning. You're not going back to your father. You'll stay with us tonight, and tomorrow...well...these people work fast..." He looked down at the floor.
"What's happening tomorrow?" Liz asked, dread entering her voice.
"Tomorrow, you'll be going to a foster home. Just until the hearing, which shouldn't take more than a few months, and after that, we can work something out..."
"Where?"
"It was the closest place we could find..."
"Where?" she repeated.
"Clovis."
Liz was silent, and the nurse returned with two trays. Liz mostly picked at hers, dutifully taking a bite every now and then. Michael left his untouched-he was trying to figure out a way to keep her here.
Later that night, Mr. Evans brought Liz and Michael home. Max stood apart, studying his feet.
"Hi, Liz. How are you?" he asked quietly.
"That's it?" Mr. Evans asked. "You're not going to give her a hug, or welcome her back, or gripe about her not being able to be without us? Just 'Hi Liz, how are you?' That's weak, Max."
Max turned red and took a step forward, carefully wrapping his arms around her. Mrs. Evans came in, her eyes full of pity.
"How are you, Liz" she asked quietly.
"I'm fine, thank you." She went to step away, but Max was still holding her. She smiled tearily and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. When they finally let go, Liz was sniffling, and Max was confused.
"What's wrong?" he asked, brushing his finger against her cheek. She laughed sadly and wiped her eyes.
"Nothing..."
"She's leaving tomorrow," Mr. Evans said. Max looked shocked.
"Why?"
"She's not going to go back to her father..." He shrugged. "That's what the law does...butts in where it isn't needed. Come on, Diane. Let's leave them alone..."
The adults left the room, and Isabel entered. Once they'd told her the whole story, the four of them remained sitting there, silent, until Diane called them for dinner, where there was more silence.
After a while of laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, Michael kicked his way out of the sleeping bag and looked over at Max, who was in a fitful doze. Quietly, he made his way to the living room, to-to what? To talk to Liz? She was probably dead tired. To look at her? It'd just make him feel worse. He went anyway, and when he approached the sofa, it was empty. His heart skipped a beat, but then he looked out the window and saw Liz sitting in the yard, looking at the stars. He quietly went outside and sat with her in the silent night air.
"I'm not coming back," Liz said grimly.
"The Evanses will figure out a way to bring you back..."
"Let's not kid ourselves, Michael. I'm going to get into whatever car they bring to take me away, and I'll never see any of you ever again." Her voice broke, and she pulled her knees tighter against her body. "Maria and Alex will be in school...I won't even get to say goodbye."
Michael didn't know what to say, but then he remembered something he'd seen on TV or read in a book or something, and reached into his back pocket, retrieving his pocket knife.
"Can I do something?" He asked, taking her hand. She nodded miserably. As she watched, he pressed the blade against the tender flesh of her upper palm-just under her four fingers-and drew it across. Blood immediately sprung to the surface, and, had he not been holding tightly to her hand, Liz would have jerked away.
"What'd you do that for?" she demanded. He didn't answer, but slashed his hand in the exact same spot, then clasped her hand with his. They stayed like this for a while, blood mingling. Too late Michael realized what he'd done-that he didn't know what his non-human blood could do to her. Or maybe hers would do something to him. Either way, it was too late, he knew, and held her hand tighter. He didn't release her for at least half an hour-when he knew the bleeding must have stopped. Liz looked at her hand, then took Michael's hand and compared the two. He'd gotten the two cuts in exactly the same spot, and exactly the same length, he realized, looking at their hands through the dried blood.
"We match," she murmured quietly, tracing his palm gently with her index finger. The sensation sent tingles up his spine. She sighed. "I'll never forget you... I could live forever, and still, you'd be right here in my head until my last nanosecond."
"And after that?"
She shrugged, and he put his arm around her.
"I was kidding." She nodded and put her head on his chest. They stayed like this-not sleeping, not speaking, until sunrise, and Michael moved a little.
"We should go inside, before they wake up and freak out."
Liz laughed mirthlessly and stood stiffly, extending her hand. Michael took it, and they went inside. The rust-colored substance on his hand caught his eyes.
"We should probably-" he gestured to her hand.
"Right."
So they went into the guest bathroom and silently washed their hands. The Evanses woke up, and the six of them sat down at the table for another wordless meal, after which, the phone rang. Diane answered it in hushed tones, spoke for a while, and then hung up.
"They should be here in a little bit..." She said sadly.
Liz leapt up. "My journal!"
"What?" Everyone looked at her. Michael stood.
"My journal-I can leave everything else, but I have to bring it."
"You shouldn't go back to your house, Liz. What if your father is there?" Phillip said worriedly.
"He's not. After he... he always leaves for a day. It's...like a ritual. He's out somewhere. I can go get it. I have to go get it."
"I'm sure you can get another one when-" Max began, but Liz cut him off.
"No. I have to have this one. This one, it's..." she trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
"I'll go with her," Michael said.
"I still don't like this..." Phillip said uneasily. "But I can't stop you. Be careful."
Liz nodded, and she and Michael tore out of the house, running all the way to the Crashdown. Once there, she dashed up the stairs to her room, then stood in the center of it, glaring at him.
"What?"
"Close your eyes."
"What? Why?"
"So you don't see where I hide it."
Michael didn't remind her that she'd probably never get to hide her journal in this room again, but closed his eyes. She fumbled around in several places, obviously trying to throw him off, and then returned to stand in front of him.
"Okay. You can look now."
She was standing there with a large, thick brown notebook tucked lovingly under one arm.
"Is that all?"
She looked once around the room, and nodded. "Let's go."
When they returned to the Evanses', a black Jeep was sitting in front of the house. Liz looked at it silently, tears springing to her eyes. The Evanses, a man, and a woman stepped onto the porch, and Liz turned to him. He grabbed her, nearly crushing her in a bear hug. She returned it, and he felt the tremors running through her body.
"I'll come back," she promised. "As soon as I can, I'll get out of there, and I'll come back."
Michael nodded, unable to speak. She stepped away and picked up his hand- the one he'd slashed last night-and kissed the palm repeatedly.
"Liz, honey," Mrs. Evans called. "Are you ready?"
Liz scoffed. "Is she kidding?" She went up to them. "Mr. and Mrs. Evans, thank you...for letting me stay here...and for..." She trailed off. They nodded, tears running down Diane's face and Phillip's eyes glistening dangerously. Max and Isabel started forward simultaneously, folding her into a hug. Liz held on tightly, until the man cleared his throat. She then stepped back, nodding at the four of them, and followed the people to the Jeep.
It drove off, and Michael stared after it until it disappeared around a corner.
He'd never see her again, he knew.
Email:
Rating: PG, for a bit of language and implied violence.
Genre:Drama/Angst (not so much angst...shrug Maybe)
Category: AU. Pre-shooting. Just a tad Polar, but absolutely nothing that would cause an uprising of Dreamer/Candy Fans. (heh...though maybe Dreamers are forming an alliance against me? Nah...that'd be too much to hope for. )
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.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem Chapter Ten
Michael had never known why people didn't like hospitals-he'd been in a few, and the smell wasn't that bad...it wasn't too creepy. But now, slouching in the uncomfortable chair whose padding had long ago been worn out by hundreds of people sitting and waiting, just like he was, Michael understood. It seemed like it'd been forever since he'd watched the nurses load Liz onto a stretcher and push her through those doors, and no one had come out. It was like the building had swallowed her up without so much as a burp. Phillip shifted in the seat next to him.
"I know you're worried, son, but she's safe here. Safer here than at home... I never should have let Diane talk me into waiting-not when a little girl's life hung in the balance." He trailed off in self-loathing. Michael said nothing. He was dead tired, but just as his eyelids would slide closed, another shot of adrenaline would rush through his veins, and he'd jerk awake. A doctor in the usual white coat approached them.
"You brought Elizabeth Parker?" he asked, staring at them from over his glasses. Mr. Evans nodded.
"Is she okay? What happened?" Michael demanded. He had no time for the usual waiting room small-talk.
"We believe that her episode was caused largely by moderate internal bleeding and shock."
"Is she okay?"
"She should be fine. We've got a blood transfusion going, and she is fully awake now, so if you want to see her, come with me."
Mr. Evans followed, but Michael hung back. The two men paused.
"I...she won't want to see me. I swore to her that I wouldn't tell."
"Of course she will, Michael. You-"
"Michael?" The doctor started forward. "You're Michael?"
"Yeah..."
"Oh, trust me, son. She wants to see you."
"How do you know?"
"She was crying for a Michael when she woke up."
"See? Mr. Evans said, nudging him forward. "I told you. Come on."
They continued down the hall, to a small room. Liz was sitting up weakly in the bed, and when she saw them, she looked down at her hands, avoiding their eyes.
The doctor clasped Michael on the shoulder and exited. Mr. Evans left as well... Michael figured he realized that he'd be doing enough talking soon enough-might as well let the two of them talk. Michael pulled a chair over.
"Liz, I'm sorry. I lied to you. I told you I wouldn't tell, and then I did."
She was silent. "I'm not stupid, even though I act like it sometimes... If you hadn't told, I'd probably be in a lot of trouble right now..."
He shrugged. "How do you feel?"
"Sore." She shifted. "Tired. I have a headache."
"That all comes with emptying your blood supply into your body, I guess," Michael said with a little smile. Liz scoffed.
"Yeah... What do you think is going to happen?" her voice shook, and Michael reached out and took her hand, mindful of the IV.
"You'll go somewhere safe. Where your father can't get to you."
"Away from here..." Liz said fearfully.
"No. Not away from here. I won't let that happen. Neither will the Evanses."
"So both of them know." Liz shifted again.
"What'd you expect?"
She shrugged.
"You scared the crap outta Max, though. Thought his eyes were going to bug out of his head." He grinned, and she laughed at the mental image.
"Poor Max."
He held her hand to his mouth and gently kissed her skin where the needle was sticking out.
"Poor Liz."
"Not poor Liz. No pity, remember?"
"I know, I know."
They were silent for another few minutes, and then Liz spoke up again, her voice shaking.
"I don't want to leave here, Michael," she whispered. He climbed up into the bed with her, putting an arm around her shoulders. She put her head on his chest, and the last thing Michael remembered hearing was Mr. Evans convincing the doctors to let him stay.
The next morning, Michael was awakened by a nurse dropping her clipboard. He felt Liz jump next to him, and they both peered at her through sleepy eyes.
"Sorry... I didn't mean to wake you. You two looked so cute."
Liz sat up. "When can I go home?"
"You'll have to ask the doctor, honey. But do you want me to take that IV out? It looks like it's done."
"Yes, please," Liz said, holding out her arm. The nurse laughed and turned the machine off, then donned a pair of rubber gloves and carefully pulled the needle out. Liz groaned and hid her face in Michael's chest. Michael and the nurse laughed.
"Did that hurt?" she asked.
"No..." Liz said, peeking to make sure the nurse was done. "What time is it?"
"Seven. Are you ready for breakfast?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You need to eat," Michael said.
"Listen to him, Elizabeth. Your body is trying to heal itself-it needs food."
Liz sighed. "Fine."
"Good girl. I'll go get a tray. I'll bring you one, too, if you promise not to tell on me."
"I won't," Michael said with a grin. The nurse left, and Mr. Evans entered.
"'Morning, guys. How are you feeling, Liz?"
"Fine. When am I going home?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Liz, I spoke to a social worker this morning. You're not going back to your father. You'll stay with us tonight, and tomorrow...well...these people work fast..." He looked down at the floor.
"What's happening tomorrow?" Liz asked, dread entering her voice.
"Tomorrow, you'll be going to a foster home. Just until the hearing, which shouldn't take more than a few months, and after that, we can work something out..."
"Where?"
"It was the closest place we could find..."
"Where?" she repeated.
"Clovis."
Liz was silent, and the nurse returned with two trays. Liz mostly picked at hers, dutifully taking a bite every now and then. Michael left his untouched-he was trying to figure out a way to keep her here.
Later that night, Mr. Evans brought Liz and Michael home. Max stood apart, studying his feet.
"Hi, Liz. How are you?" he asked quietly.
"That's it?" Mr. Evans asked. "You're not going to give her a hug, or welcome her back, or gripe about her not being able to be without us? Just 'Hi Liz, how are you?' That's weak, Max."
Max turned red and took a step forward, carefully wrapping his arms around her. Mrs. Evans came in, her eyes full of pity.
"How are you, Liz" she asked quietly.
"I'm fine, thank you." She went to step away, but Max was still holding her. She smiled tearily and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. When they finally let go, Liz was sniffling, and Max was confused.
"What's wrong?" he asked, brushing his finger against her cheek. She laughed sadly and wiped her eyes.
"Nothing..."
"She's leaving tomorrow," Mr. Evans said. Max looked shocked.
"Why?"
"She's not going to go back to her father..." He shrugged. "That's what the law does...butts in where it isn't needed. Come on, Diane. Let's leave them alone..."
The adults left the room, and Isabel entered. Once they'd told her the whole story, the four of them remained sitting there, silent, until Diane called them for dinner, where there was more silence.
After a while of laying on his back and staring at the ceiling, Michael kicked his way out of the sleeping bag and looked over at Max, who was in a fitful doze. Quietly, he made his way to the living room, to-to what? To talk to Liz? She was probably dead tired. To look at her? It'd just make him feel worse. He went anyway, and when he approached the sofa, it was empty. His heart skipped a beat, but then he looked out the window and saw Liz sitting in the yard, looking at the stars. He quietly went outside and sat with her in the silent night air.
"I'm not coming back," Liz said grimly.
"The Evanses will figure out a way to bring you back..."
"Let's not kid ourselves, Michael. I'm going to get into whatever car they bring to take me away, and I'll never see any of you ever again." Her voice broke, and she pulled her knees tighter against her body. "Maria and Alex will be in school...I won't even get to say goodbye."
Michael didn't know what to say, but then he remembered something he'd seen on TV or read in a book or something, and reached into his back pocket, retrieving his pocket knife.
"Can I do something?" He asked, taking her hand. She nodded miserably. As she watched, he pressed the blade against the tender flesh of her upper palm-just under her four fingers-and drew it across. Blood immediately sprung to the surface, and, had he not been holding tightly to her hand, Liz would have jerked away.
"What'd you do that for?" she demanded. He didn't answer, but slashed his hand in the exact same spot, then clasped her hand with his. They stayed like this for a while, blood mingling. Too late Michael realized what he'd done-that he didn't know what his non-human blood could do to her. Or maybe hers would do something to him. Either way, it was too late, he knew, and held her hand tighter. He didn't release her for at least half an hour-when he knew the bleeding must have stopped. Liz looked at her hand, then took Michael's hand and compared the two. He'd gotten the two cuts in exactly the same spot, and exactly the same length, he realized, looking at their hands through the dried blood.
"We match," she murmured quietly, tracing his palm gently with her index finger. The sensation sent tingles up his spine. She sighed. "I'll never forget you... I could live forever, and still, you'd be right here in my head until my last nanosecond."
"And after that?"
She shrugged, and he put his arm around her.
"I was kidding." She nodded and put her head on his chest. They stayed like this-not sleeping, not speaking, until sunrise, and Michael moved a little.
"We should go inside, before they wake up and freak out."
Liz laughed mirthlessly and stood stiffly, extending her hand. Michael took it, and they went inside. The rust-colored substance on his hand caught his eyes.
"We should probably-" he gestured to her hand.
"Right."
So they went into the guest bathroom and silently washed their hands. The Evanses woke up, and the six of them sat down at the table for another wordless meal, after which, the phone rang. Diane answered it in hushed tones, spoke for a while, and then hung up.
"They should be here in a little bit..." She said sadly.
Liz leapt up. "My journal!"
"What?" Everyone looked at her. Michael stood.
"My journal-I can leave everything else, but I have to bring it."
"You shouldn't go back to your house, Liz. What if your father is there?" Phillip said worriedly.
"He's not. After he... he always leaves for a day. It's...like a ritual. He's out somewhere. I can go get it. I have to go get it."
"I'm sure you can get another one when-" Max began, but Liz cut him off.
"No. I have to have this one. This one, it's..." she trailed off, shrugging helplessly.
"I'll go with her," Michael said.
"I still don't like this..." Phillip said uneasily. "But I can't stop you. Be careful."
Liz nodded, and she and Michael tore out of the house, running all the way to the Crashdown. Once there, she dashed up the stairs to her room, then stood in the center of it, glaring at him.
"What?"
"Close your eyes."
"What? Why?"
"So you don't see where I hide it."
Michael didn't remind her that she'd probably never get to hide her journal in this room again, but closed his eyes. She fumbled around in several places, obviously trying to throw him off, and then returned to stand in front of him.
"Okay. You can look now."
She was standing there with a large, thick brown notebook tucked lovingly under one arm.
"Is that all?"
She looked once around the room, and nodded. "Let's go."
When they returned to the Evanses', a black Jeep was sitting in front of the house. Liz looked at it silently, tears springing to her eyes. The Evanses, a man, and a woman stepped onto the porch, and Liz turned to him. He grabbed her, nearly crushing her in a bear hug. She returned it, and he felt the tremors running through her body.
"I'll come back," she promised. "As soon as I can, I'll get out of there, and I'll come back."
Michael nodded, unable to speak. She stepped away and picked up his hand- the one he'd slashed last night-and kissed the palm repeatedly.
"Liz, honey," Mrs. Evans called. "Are you ready?"
Liz scoffed. "Is she kidding?" She went up to them. "Mr. and Mrs. Evans, thank you...for letting me stay here...and for..." She trailed off. They nodded, tears running down Diane's face and Phillip's eyes glistening dangerously. Max and Isabel started forward simultaneously, folding her into a hug. Liz held on tightly, until the man cleared his throat. She then stepped back, nodding at the four of them, and followed the people to the Jeep.
It drove off, and Michael stared after it until it disappeared around a corner.
He'd never see her again, he knew.