A/N: Here's another update. Sorry for the delay.

Disclaimer: I don't own Roswell or any characters associated with the show!

Chapter: 4 How Do I?

How do I

Get through one night without you

If I had to live without you

What kind of life would that be?

Twenty minutes passed in companionable silence. Liz and Max sat at the kitchen counter finishing up chicken salad sandwiches and chips. Liz sipped slowly from a bottle of Evian while glancing around the sparsely furnished apartment. The walls were taupe colored and bland to say the least. They were bare, naked even, not a picture to be found in sight. As for furniture, an old couch sat in the center of the room, its only companion a scarred wooden coffee table.

Liz shivered at the bleakness of it all.

She glanced over at Max and found him staring at her. Her nerves kicked into high alert as she searched for a neutral topic to discuss.

"So…I heard your brother Michael got married. I still can't believe it. That must be an interesting story."

For a brief second humor lit Max's beautiful amber colored eyes. "Almost as interesting as his introduction to the Evans' family."

Liz leaned forward with her hand tucked under her chin. "You know, I never did get the full story. I mean I heard the rumors like everyone else but…?"

Max looked off into the distance. His mouth was curved in a faint smile.

-Flashback –

Max fought to contain his excitement as he paused outside the front door of his family's home. Today was his fourteenth birthday and his parents were throwing him a surprise party. He wasn't supposed to know, but his twelve year old sister Isabel couldn't hold a cup of water, as his grandma Evans used to say.

But that was ok. Max would pretend to be surprised. He'd even stayed up all night practicing in the mirror for the occasion. Of course this meant he'd been too tired to play his best at baseball practice. Still, it had been a small sacrifice. He'd make up for it tomorrow.

He swung the front door open suddenly and waited for everyone to yell surprise. No one did. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of a sullen teenage boy sitting on the living room couch. His hair was wild and unkempt, and his clothing was not much better. His dark brown eyes looked defiant yet scared. He sat perched on the edge of the couch like he was about to take flight at any given moment.

"Who the hell are you?" slipped from Max's mouth before he thought to censor himself."

"Who the hell are you?" the scowling boy asked in return.

Just as Max was about to answer, his Mom came striding into the living room carrying a glass of milk in one hand and a turkey sandwich in the other.

"Here you go dear." Max watched as she placed the plate and glass on the coffee table in front of the strange boy. "Start with this," she offered kindly.

Max watched the boy nod before lifting the sandwich and biting into it enthusiastically. What the fuck? Max wondered. His mom never allowed anyone to eat in the living room. Not even his dad! And what in the hell had happened to his party?

"Mom?" Max called out to get Diane's attention. His voice wavered and the strange boy smirked.

Diane finally turned around to acknowledge him. "Oh Max honey, I didn't see you standing there. When did you get home?"

So now he was an afterthought? She hadn't noticed him standing there? What in the hell was going on? Max wondered.

"A few minutes ago," he said in answer to his mother's question. "Who's this?" he pointed rudely asking some questions of his own.

For about a second his mom looked indecisive. Then with a gentle smile she said, "Max, meet your brother Michael. He's going to be living with us from now on."

Well fuck me! Max thought with his mouth hanging open.

-End of Flasback-

"I don't have to tell you the look of surprise on my face that day was genuine, though I never did get that surprise party." Max said mournfully and Liz burst out laughing.

"Granted, that was on hell of an introduction. However, it still doesn't explain Michael's origins."

"Oh, that." Max said casually.

"Yes that," Liz parroted.

"To make a long and interesting story short and boring, Michael's mom and my dad were college sweethearts. They broke up after graduation when Michael's mom moved to Chicago to pursue her career." Max shrugged. "I guess she wasn't too interested in being a small town lawyer. Anyway, she never told my dad she was pregnant before she left. About a year later my mom and dad met and got married. I was born a year or so after that."

"Wow." Liz murmured.

"Oh it gets better," Max said in sardonic humor. "When Michael was fifteen his mom was murdered by someone she'd help prosecute and Michael was placed in foster care. He was there for almost a year before he discovered an un-mailed letter to my father from his mother. After his mother's death he'd been allowed to keep a small box of mementos. I guess he finally got around to opening it."

"That's just…" Liz paused for lack of anything better to say.

"Yeah." Max said in answer.

The mood in the room became heavy once again. Liz tried to lighten it. "So, I know how you reacted to Michael's arrival. What about the rest of the family?"

Max smiled in nostalgia. "Isabel was smitten from the start. Any disagreements between Michael and I, and believe me there were many that first year, found Izzy firmly in Michael's camp. I think it was her way of making him feel more secure and part of the family. Then again, she still pretty much still takes his side even today."

The two of them smiled briefly, then Liz asked, "And your parents?"

Max's expression turned serious. "He and my dad never really got along. Michael was such a resentful little prick. And my dad well—he was hard on Michael. Expected to much from him. They kinda sorted it out a couple of years ago before my dad died, but who knows."

Max went silent, pensive, and Liz wanted to kick herself. She'd wanted to bring some levity to his day. Instead, she kept adding to his pain. She remembered hearing about his dad's heart attack. But it had been during finals and she couldn't attend.

"I bet your mom found his presence hardest to deal with." Liz said quietly.

Max's face reanimated. "Are you kidding? Michael became her favorite. He could do no wrong in her eyes. Unlike me," Max looked chagrined.

He was sporting such an adorable pout that Liz could not resist. "Poor baby," she said chucking him under his chin. Max flinched then froze. His eyes grew dark and bleak.

"Max?" Liz questioned in confusion.

Max laughed. It was full of pain and anguish. "Tess used to say that all the time. She said that I was a spoiled brat used to getting my own way before Michael came to live with us. Whenever I would complain about him she would teasingly say, "Poor baby."

Liz sighed in misery. Everything she said and did around Max came out clumsy. "I'm gonna go," she stood up to leave.

"It's not your fault Liz," Max said in a strangled voice when he noticed her expression. You couldn't have known. Besides, everything reminds me of Tess. She's never far from my thoughts." Max said despondently before dropping his head down onto the table.

Liz absently rubbed her chest as a feeling not unlike heartburn shot through it. Or maybe it was heartbreak, she couldn't tell anymore. One thing she knew for sure was that it was time to leave.

"Um, I guess—see you around," she murmured while heading for the door.

"I've thought about ending it," Max whispered, his words stopping Liz in her trek. "I just don't know how to go on anymore."

Liz was at his side in an instant. Laying a compassionate hand on his shoulder she said, "I'll tell you how to go on. You cry when you need to, scream when you can't, laugh when you can, and learn to lean on you friends."

Max raised his head to look into Liz's eyes. "Friends like you?"

Though it hurt, Liz smiled and said, "Exactly like me."