Part Five

He noticed Liz beginning to acknowledge him more when they saw each other at work after that night at the club. It began with head nods to recognize his presence and had since grown into full blown waves. He watched her disappear into the elevator before turning, picking up his shovel and making his way over to Alex.

"You done for the day," he asked while looking down at a clip board.

"Yeah," Max replied. Gathering his things slowly and making his way towards the door. If he didn't get a move on, he was going to be late for class.

"Who's that girl I've seen you waving at lately?"

He stopped but didn't turn toward him, "Who?"

"The cute little brunette," and Max could hear the smile in his voice. "Got yourself a scientist?"

He turned toward him, "No, she's just a girl I knew in high school. We lost touch for a couple of years and we just ran into one another again."

Alex grunted in response, not really listening. "Whatever you say man."

He narrowed his eyes and thought about asking what he meant by that, but shook the feeling off instead. The old Max would've gotten indignant but he was an adult now and things that can be explained away when done by a teenage boy cannot be when committed by a 27 year old man. He took a couple deep breaths and checked the watch at his wrist before moving out the door and to the subway at a fast clip. He was definitely going to be late for school.

-0-

Max ran through the door to his apartment, dropped his book-bag and only hesitated to answer the phone for a moment after he saw who was on the line.

"Where have the fuck have you been?"

He sat on the couch and clicked on the T.V with a smile. "Where's my hello Michael? I thought Philip and Dianne taught you better than that."

"Why don't you pick up your phone," he asked, annoyed by having to track him down every time he wanted to talk.

"Cause I don't need to," Max replied flippantly, knowing how it would rile the man.

"Don't start," he countered, "You said you were going to call me back days ago! You know how mom and dad…"

"Stop saying it like that," he responded suddenly unhappy, suddenly dark.

Michael stopped screaming, confused by his tone. "Say what like what?"

"Say mom and dad like they're ours…they're yours."

There was a long pregnant pause, "Look Max…"

"Forget it," he said quickly, trying to move ahead. "As you can hear, I'm alive and well."

"…How are the classes going," he continued conversationally, willing to let the last topic drop.

"Pretty well actually, I ran late at work and missed one tonight but there was no test or anything so I'll be alright."

Michael laughed abruptly.

"What," he asked, starting to smile a little as well.

"If anyone would've told me 10 years ago that Maxwell Evans would be going to school to become a cop, I would have never believed them."

"Why not," he asked with a big grin, the mood considerably lightened.

"Cause of all those arrests," he replied as if it should have been obvious. "How are you even sure they'll let you apply."

"I was a juvenile remember? Phillip helped me get them expunged."

"Oh," he replied. "So what else has been happening in the big city?"

Max got quiet for a moment, wondering whether or not he should share the news about seeing Liz. She and Michael's relationship had been, during the good times, contentious and he wasn't sure how his friend would respond to the news.

"Now I know something's up. Tell me what's going on Max."

He could hear the panic in his voice and decided to just come out with it. "I saw someone from high school the other day."

"Who?"

"Liz."

The second uncomfortable pause of the night went on for about a minute before Michael spoke up again. "I should have known it had something to do with her."

"What are you talking about," he replied; starting to get offended on her behalf.

"The way you're acting," he clarified, "almost like you did back then you know, all secretive and volatile. Not calling us back, in your own private world…"

"I was never that way with you guys."

"Of course you were! Liz was the only person you could talk to, the only person who understood," his voice had taken on a high pitched, whiney, mocking sound that Max didn't care for one bit.

"Stop talking about things you don't understand Michael," a warning evident in his voice.

"You see! Listen to the way you're talking! I've been here the whole time but you'll bite my head off over one comment about precious Liz."

"You sound more jealous than anything else to me."

"Maybe I am," he replied slowly, "It's just, I'm your brother…"

"You're not my brother," Max screamed into the phone, angry now and not willing to stop and think anymore. "I have family and you're not it!"

"Max…"

But he had already hung up.

Roswell, New Mexico: 10 years prior

"I heard you're going out with Elizabeth Parker."

The whole table erupted in hoots and Max could feel himself starting to blush. He loved having this weekly dinner with the Evans', it was like dining on Mars how different it was from the other six days of the week, but they could be so embarrassing sometimes.

"No," he said shaking his head slowly. "She's just my friend."

"Well I think she's cute and I would like you two together," Dianne said with a smile, watching him with knowing eyes.

"I think they'd be a disaster. They're already all over one another as it is," Michael said.

At Max's sharp look he raised his hands. "Just saying."

"Well stop 'just saying.'"

"Now now boys," Dianne quieted them, "Not at the dinner table."

"Yes please," Isabel remarked with practiced indifference. "The testosterone is strangling us."

"Oh give them a break," Philip replied, reaching for the mashed potatoes. "There's only one more of us than you two."

"Three too many," Diane whispered loudly under her breath and when Phillip reached for her and they playfully began to tussle over the table, both children groaned and begged them to please stop, that they were disgusting and that their friends parents never acted like this.

Max sat back and watched them smiling but feeling separate. Though Iz and Michael pretended to hate their parents close relationship, he knew firsthand how happy they were for them and aspired for something similar in their own lives. They ate the roasted chicken Diane had, in her own words, 'slaved over all day,' the mashed potatoes and corn; all the while sharing anecdotes and stories from their day.

Usually Max just came to these dinners, smiled when he was supposed to, shared a story when asked then left but tonight he allowed himself to imagine. Imagine what could have happened if, when this nice family went to the orphanage and picked out a little 4 year old boy, that kid's dad hadn't come back two years later and ripped him away. If he'd been able to grow up in a home with adults who loved and took care of him, if he'd had siblings to fight with, and a yard; who he might have become.

How much better he might have turned out.

A hard shake on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see a concerned Dianne standing over him, "I was asking if you wanted to take some home?"

"No thank you," he said quickly standing and bringing his plate to the sink for Phillip to wash.

"Well I guess I'll see you guys next Thursday," he hugged Phil and Dianne, who had followed behind him. The others must have wandered upstairs because he couldn't find them, "Tell Michael and Iz I'll see them tomorrow."

The two adults shared a look before Phillip turned back to the sink.

"Would you come out onto the porch with me for a second Max? There's something I need to tell you then I'll drive you home."

"Alright," he replied feeling like something was going on he wasn't privy to.

They walked out to the back porch and sat down on the steps, "Did I ever tell you about the time 13 years ago when Phillip and I went to find a baby to adopt?"

He groaned good-naturedly but she continued as though nothing had interrupted her, "No? Well, we went to see some babies that were up for adoption when we passed a playroom. I just happened to glance to my side and what do I see but the most beautiful little boy with the thickest mop of jet black hair I've ever seen."

He smiled and watched the side of her face as she spoke. "Well I just kept walking and went to see some very cute little babies that needed parents but my thoughts kept going back to that one little boy I'd seen earlier in the day. I knew if we didn't take a newborn it would most likely be adopted anyway but a toddler? I knew that that little boy needed us more so I talked to Phillip, we went to the agency the next day and told them we wanted him instead."

She looked at him with a smile, "You know who that boy was?"

"Me," he said, trying his hardest to sound put out instead of delighted.

"That's right," she replied flicking his nose, "and we'll always want you."

The smile left her face slowly, "We'll always love you."

Max stood so quickly he almost lost his balance, "I'll see you next Thursday Mrs. Evans."

She stood, "Please call me…" He knew she wanted to say mom, 'Please call me mom. PLEASE!' but she also knew that he never would, that he couldn't, so she said nothing. Instead reached up and gently rubbed her thumb along the yellowing bruise under his eye.

"You'd tell us if you were in any real trouble right," she asked and he could hear the desperation in her voice.

He grabbed her wrists gently and pulled them toward himself, looking into her eyes. "Of course I would. It was just a school fight," he hated having to lie to her like this but it was the only way. It was too late to try and have Hank locked up for this. His 18th birthday was practically around the corner and if he turned him in now, he'd be back in the system for those months. The Evans' wouldn't be able to just keep him, they'd have to have papers and court orders and…it was all too much. He'd rather wait it out.

He wasn't going back into foster care for any length of time ever again.

She studied him for a minute, trying to find some deception, before pulling him into her arms and sighing out her relief. "I just worry about you being with that man," she spit the last word out like it was poison.

"He's not so bad," he replied evenly, "I'll be 18 any day now anyway."

"You'll always be an Evans you know," she said so quietly he almost missed himself.

"Yeah, he never bothered to have my name changed back."

She looked at him pointedly. "You know what I meant."

He nodded, "Let's go."

-0-

The drive home was silent but comfortable and he was in good spirits as he watched Diane pull away. Max pulled out his keys, unlocked the door and entered the trailer only to hit the ground as something heavy connected with his jaw.

Hard.

He never panicked, just put his fingers to the wound gingerly, inspecting the small cut and deeming it not too bad. The boot pressing down into the center of his chest was a different story.

"You think you betta than me don't cha," came the slurred voice of his father from above him. He didn't respond, Hank never really wanted one anyway, he just concentrated on taking as many quick short breathes as possible.

"You can run around in the suburbs with your pretend momma and daddy but that don't mean you ain't still trash."

Max closed his eyes and focused on his breathing when he felt the man lean down over him, replace the foot with a knee and grab his face. The boys' eyes flew open as he yelped out in pain; the pain from the cut had begun to dim to an uncomfortable pulse in the back of his mind until Hank grabbed it.

The big man smiled wobbly, "This," he commented offhandedly, showing him his own blood, "is the same stuff running through these veins no matter how much you pray and whine and cry for it to be different."

"Leave me alone dad," he replied lowly, letting his eyes drift shut again and trying to think about some other place. Any other place as long as it wasn't in Roswell.

"And that little brunette…" He felt himself jerked roughly into the present at the mention of her from this man's lips. He knew it was the same ploy he used every time to get a rise out of his son and even though he was wise to the older man's game, he fell for it every single time.

This instance was no different.

"Don't you say her name," he wanted his voice to sound hard and threatening but it came out wispy and scared instead. The idea that his father knew who Liz was, where she lived and what school she went to worried him deeply though he'd never shared the fear with anyone. He was fairly sure Hank would never go after her, but he wasn't 100% certain and the grin on his father's face said that he knew that.

"She's just slumming with you," he replied with such confidence he even had Max wondering, "nice girls like that don't stay with guys like you and me."

He stood up slowly and went to the kitchen to get another beer; watching what he could see of his sons prone body in the darkness as he took a deep swig.

"I just thought you should know is all; didn't want you getting your hopes up."

Max licked his lips and moved to sit with his back against the wall. He watched his father watching him before speaking quietly. "Why didn't you leave me with them? They're good people, they love me."

Hank looked truly confused by the question before answering flatly. "Because I love you," and the honesty in his voice added a whole other dimension of unease to Max. "I could never let those people have you, you're my very own flesh and blood," he slurred lightly and walked back towards him.

Max tensed, awaiting an attack that didn't come, instead the man leaned toward him and gently touched his face. "You're my very own baby boy." Hank narrowed his eyes at him and looked very sober for a moment. "Sometimes you look like her so much, I don't know whether I want to kill you or keep you forever, but either way, I know I'll never let you leave me"

Present

Max looked at the only photo he owned of both his parents and silently agreed with his father about his and his mothers resemblance before sliding it back into the drawer in his bedroom.