Magali – You are definitely onto something there and the question whether Alex is alive or not will be answered in this chapter. Thank you for leaving feedback!!

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The first part of this chapter includes quotes from "It's Too Late and It's Too Bad", courtesy of the Crashdown homepage.

Four

She watches him approach, feeling the tension vibrating between them. She swallows her anger and forces out, "What's up?"

He's calm and collected when he speaks, "Liz, I just want to talk this through." He shakes his head, communicating weariness. "I don't want this to turn into a war between us, between everyone."

She shakes her head emphatically. "Yeah. Neither do I."

She can't help but wonder, hope, if things are going to change. Is he here to offer his help? To swallow his pride and help her? But as he speaks, her resentment for the person he has turned into resurfaces.

"Look. The other day at the wake, you were upset about Alex." He avoids her eyes, while his tone tries to compromise. "I understand how you might have said the things you said."

There it is. That condescending streak that she has been forced to face everyday the last couple of weeks. Ever since… Too angry to trust her voice, she presses her lips together. "Mm-hmm."

Max continues and she keeps looking at him, surprised at her own lack of surprise at no longer recognizing the person in front of her.

"I'm willing to forget about it." He laughs nervously, "Wipe the slate clean."

Her body tightens in anger. How noble of him, to forgive her for her 'behavior' at the wake. Biting back a 'Well, Your Highness', she interrupts him. "Max," she takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully and trying her best not to lose her temper, "maybe it wasn't right for me to say what I said just then," she takes another deep breath and looks directly into his eyes, continuing firmly, "and maybe I could have said it a little bit calmer." She pauses, the silence loaded with tension as her unyielding eyes hold his. "But I don't regret it. It's true."

Max looks away, trying to control his apparent frustration. He steps closer to her, his voice low, as he towers over her. "Liz, the way you're going about doing this isn't safe."

She looks at him incredulously, tears of hurt and anger springing up in her eyes. He doesn't trust her enough to do this? She can remember a time when he would trust her with anything. But things have changed, something she realizes more acutely with every controlling word coming out of Max's mouth.

"Talking to people at school, asking questions. Whenever we decided to do something, we always decided as a group."

She opens her mouth to respond, but the stupidity, the hypocrisy of what he is preaching, momentarily leaves her speechless. "Do you believe me? About Alex?"

He pulls backwards, his whole being resigning to the truth of her words. She can see that he knows the point she is about to make before she makes it. Squaring his shoulders, his weak response is in strong contrast to the authoritative aura surrounding him. "No."

Liz blinks, feigning surprise while her expression clearly tells him the ridiculousness of his request even before she utters the words. "Well, then we can't act as a group right now, Max."

------------------------------------------

"How did Alex die?"

She has a feeling that he knew she was standing behind him, because he doesn't seem startled as he turns to face her. His face is the epitome of calmness. "Alex Whitman?"

She nods.

"That was ages ago, Liz," he says. "You were there, you know what happened."

"I want to hear it from you," Liz says.

His fingers envelope her upper arm and she shivers at the contact. It is a good shiver the kind of shiver that makes your toes curl. She looks up at him as he guides them over to a secluded area of the food court.

"There was a car accident. He drove off the road."

"You were at his wake," Liz states and studies him carefully as he seem to choose his answer carefully, almost as if he is searching his mind for something and the troubled expression on his face tells her that he isn't being very successful.

"Yes," he answers.

"Why?"

Max appears confused. "Excuse me?"

"You didn't even know Alex. Why were you there?"

He starts to pull away. "Look, I need to be somewhere and my lunch break is really short-"

"Who are you?"

She might be mistaken, but Liz is almost a hundred percent certain she can see pure fear flash in his eyes.

"I-I'm Max Evans," he stutters.

She narrows her eyes and regards him as a puzzle that needs to be solved. "Who am I?"

"Liz Parker. Actually, Elizabeth Anne Parker," Max answers and then laughs lightly. "Liz, what's this about?"

But she isn't laughing. The majority of her dreams might have shown her glimpses of a romantic, caring, warm Max Evans, but the dream last night portrayed another side of Max. A side that left her very agitated. And how does he know her full name?

"Where were you at the day of the shooting?"

"The day of the shooting?"

Nice, he is trying to pretend that he has no idea of what she's talking about.

"At the Crashdown, in September, 1999."

"Uhm… I was there, having breakfast. You know me, Liz, I worshipped those blueberry pancakes." The sight of his easy-going smile spreads warmth through her body, but she represses the sensation.

"What happened when the gun went off?"

"Uhm…" he scratches his ear, an act she finds completely endearing but unnervingly familiar. "I ducked and then I ran. I was shocked."

"See, that's not how I remember it," Liz says. He might find her crazy after she tells him this, if he doesn't already, but she needs to see his reaction. "You see, I have this crazy memory of me being shot that day. I have this memory of that bullet slicing through my skin, lodging in my stomach and then me lying on the floor, knowing I was going to die."

"Liz…" his plea is low and even though the intimacy of how he says her name temporarily numbs her, she persists.

"And then the strangest thing happens. I'm on the floor, close to passing out, when I feel a hand against my stomach and I hear someone calling my name-"

"Really, Liz. I'm late, I have to go," Max interrupts, but her hand snakes out, grabbing his. She can feel his trembles and she swallows. What's going on here? Maybe she should stop. Maybe she is better off not knowing.

"-telling me to open my eyes. So I do and I'm floating."

"Liz, are you sure you're okay? You're acting a bit strangely," Max interjects.

"And then everything was fine. No bullet hole, no walking-into-the-white-light. Only you, Max."

"Me?"

He looks at her strangely and she mentally walks around the faint trace of insecurity in his voice.

"Is this just in my head? Am I just imagining this?"

He hesitates and she waits, holding her breath. "Yes, Liz. I don't know why you think that happened. I remember the gun going off and people screaming. I saw the men run out the door and I saw you run up to Maria. Then I left."

She bites her lip in attempt to avert her tears from falling. She doesn't know why his answer disappoints her. Of course he's telling the truth. His story mimics Maria's to a tee. I'm the crazy one, she realizes and, unknowingly, tears fall down her cheeks.

She gasps as his hand gently cradles her cheek and she looks up to find him very close, looking at her with concern and…something else. Her hand moves through the air and clasps down on top of his.

"Everything will be gone, Liz."

"I want everything to be gone. Everything."

The voices float through her head as she stares at Max and if her eyes hadn't been confirming that Max's hand constitutes all physical contact between the two, she could've sworn she is able to feel his lips against hers.

"I love you. More than you'll ever know."

"I think I know."

"Do you want me to take you home?" he wonders and she nods automatically.

She doesn't know that tears are presently running freely down her cheeks and that those same tears are worrying Max Evans. She doesn't know that he wants nothing else than to take her in his arms and hold her tightly until her tears dry. She doesn't know that he would rather kill himself before he actually answers those wishes.

He removes his hand from her cheek and coldness strikes her. She imagines that she can feel his concern wash over her, but that's impossible. She is grateful when he grabs her hand and marvels over how his touch can warm her very core.

"How's Michael?" she sniffles.

He appears surprised by her question. "He's fine. He's Michael."

He says it like an inside joke and Liz wonders once again if they have more history together than what she is able to recall.

"And Isabel?"

Catching up with her line of thinking, his answers are more prepared, more controlled. "Isabel is doing well. She got married actually."

"Oh yeah, I remember that."

Max glances at her nervously.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Liz queries.

"I just… I didn't think you would notice. Isabel and you were not really close."

"That's true," Liz agrees. "But it was something of a thing, you know, because of the age difference."

He chuckles softly and she feels a smile of her own spread over her face and she involuntarily squeezes his hand. He looks at her in silence and then jumps the bait, "Yeah, I wasn't too happy about that in the beginning."

"I can just imagine you being the typical over-protective brother," Liz says and laughs softly, "What did you do? Break his nose?"

Max's steps falter and she looks at him concerned. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," he clears his throat. "Yeah. Uhm… I actually did break his nose."

"Oh…"

She isn't sure why that perplexes her, but she isn't allowed to ponder on it for too long before Max interrupts her train of thought.

"So, where do you live?"

"Over there," Liz replies, pointing over to the main building on campus.

They walk in silence, the busy college world buzzing past in their peripheral vision.

"Max, what are you doing here?"

"I'm taking some courses," Max replies easily.

"Obviously," Liz smirks, "What kind of courses?"

"Ah, law…"

"Following in your dad's footsteps, are you?"

Max smiles self-consciously, scratching his ear again. "Yeah."

"And Michael?"

"He's…doing some stuff here and there. He hasn't really settled for one thing yet, I guess." He looks at her intently. "How about you, Liz? How are things with you?"

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, unaware of the look of longing in Max's eyes at the movement. "Things are good." She smiles up at him. "Really good."

"Still doing molecular biology?"

"How did you…?"

Max's answer is light, perfectly believable. "You were always talking about it, in class."

She smiles and scrunches her nose. "I was boring you, wasn't I?"

"You could never bore me, Liz Parker," Max answers softly and she turns surprised eyes towards him, but he is focusing his gaze on the ground.

She stops them and he seems slightly frightened as he observes her. "Max, what happened between us?"

"No-no-nothing happened," Max stutters.

Liz studies his reaction closely. "Then why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not nervous," Max denies.

"Every time I'm even slightly referring to us, as in us, you become like a blabbering idiot."

"Gee, thanks, Liz. That was a blow to my manliness," Max jokes.

"I'm serious, Max. Did something happen between us? I must've repressed it or something, but I can feel that there is something between us. Like a past. And I'm not just talking about bio classes."

At least not the biology classes they teach in high school, she considers silently as a vision of naked skin tickles her mind.

Max smiles softly and lifts the hand clasping his to his mouth, kissing its back. "I wish I could say that there was, Liz. You don't know how many times I've wished that something happened between us."

How about now? The thought crept through her mind unnoticed, causing her to blush.

"I guess it just wasn't meant to be," he adds, and her chest constricts. Why does it feel like she has heard that phrase several times before? Too many times to be considered healthy…

I don't blame you. You had every right to feel that way, because what you felt is true. We don't belong together.

She's taken aback by Max's dark words in her head and hugs his hand tighter to prevent him from leaving. But he has to leave, because they have just reached the building.

"This is me," Liz says sadly.

He only has eyes for her and gives a fleeting nod.

"Will I see you again?" She hates how desperate she sounds, but she can't hide the fear of losing him again. Why didn't they ever give it a try in high school? She has a feeling they would've been great together.

His eyes reflect her sadness and the seconds pass by too slowly for her to handle.

"Max?"

"I don't know, Liz. I don't know."

His hand brushes up against her cheek, fluttering against her skin in an act of reverence, and her eyes drift closed.

"What did you do to me?" she whispers.

His answer breaks her heart. "What you asked me to."

TBC...