CHAPTER 5
Michael

"What happened?"

Max looked over at his friend, closer to him than a brother, and was slightly surprised at his concern. It would be raining pigs before Michael Guerin would admit to being the worrying kind.

Max lifted the bun on his hamburger and dashed a generous amount of Tabasco sauce on top. "Apparently, I had a seizure."

"You've never had a seizure before," Maria voiced, sitting down next to Michael. Her concern, on the other hand, was more familiar to Max than Michael's.

Max shook his head. "Not that I know of."

Michael frowned, picked a soggy french fry off Max's plate, and stuffed it in his mouth. He had known Max for about six years. He was one of the few people on this planet Earth that was privy to Max's abilities. Michael had on more than one occasion been jealous of Max's ability to manipulate matter, bend molecules according to his will, project protective force fields out of his hand (they were even a pretty nifty green color) and heal.

The biggest twist was Max having saved Michael's girlfriend from dying some fourteen years ago, an act that Michael could never out rival (Michael could never quite accept that Max had done something for his girlfriend that he never would be able to) even though he was eternally grateful that Max had made it possible for Maria to live into adulthood. If she hadn't, Michael's life would have played out very differently.

But if convulsions were a new ability of Max's, it was not going to make it onto Michael's 'Powers Michael wished he had instead of Max'. Just didn't sound like that much fun.

Michael watched Maria reach out and take a hold of Max's hand and a mild darkness zinged his heart. Maybe it was not so much the fact that Max had been able to save Maria from a malignant cancer that bothered Michael, but more the fact that his best friend seemed to have a special connection with his girlfriend. That was not something you wanted your girlfriend to share with another guy.

"Melissa said it was bad," Maria said, her eyes flickering to Michael for support.

Michael pretended he had not noticed her silent request for support and reached for another potato stripe deep-fried in trans fat.

"The weird thing was; I wasn't experiencing the seizure," Max said.

"What do you mean?" Michael asked, shoveling three French fries into his mouth.

Maria shot him a disapproving look and he glanced at her before expelling a defensive, "What, woman?"

She sighed, seemingly deeming him as a lost cause, and refocused on Max. "Melissa said it was a full blown convulsion. That you lost consciousness."

That you peed your pants. Michael couldn't help but smile at the thought. Oh Holy Thou Max Evans peed his pants. Yes, Michael had a bone to pick with Max; Max's close sharing of information with Maria over these last couple of months having worked a deep itch into Michael's relationship with Max. An itch that needed some serious scratching.

"I saw this girl."

Michael straightened in his seat, quickly surveyed their surroundings (an old man two booths down, a noisy family of four at the opposite side of the diner), and lowered his voice. "You had a vision?"

Max roughened his hands down his face, a well-known sign to Michael. Max was troubled.

"I was in a city, at night-"

"An city on Earth?" Michael asked fervently.

Max looked at him impatiently. Michael instantly resented him for that look. "Yes. Of course it was a city on Earth."

To his right, Michael saw Maria roll her eyes and felt that familiar twinge in his heart again. Trying to hide his hurt, Michael's tone was cold as he asked, "So, what then?"

"She was running down the street, being hunted by a man. At least I think it was a man. I couldn't see his face."

Maria gripped Michael's hand with her free hand and Michael felt a flutter of lightness ease up on the hot feeling in his chest. "Then what happened?"

"The girl ran into an alley, screaming for help, but no one came for her."

"And you were there? With the girl?" Michael asked.

"Merely as a spectator," Max replied, his voice pained. "I couldn't affect anything. Couldn't touch her, couldn't push the man off her."

Maria gasped at the picture Max was painting. "He hurt her?" Her grip on Michael's hand tightened and he eased his hand out of her grip, earning him a hurt look from her direction, before he used his now freed arm to circle around Maria's waist and pull her to his side. She relaxed into his side, grateful that he had understood her.

"Yes," Max croaked. Apparently not wanting to go into details, Max added, "He hurt her and I could only watch."

"What does it mean?" Maria whispered.

Max rubbed his right eyebrow. "I don't know. Maybe nothing."

"Have you talked to Isabel about this?" Michael asked. Isabel had experienced visions for about five months when she was twelve years old. The visions had been of a green sky, a large building with the appearance of a castle and large ballrooms. Isabel had never figured out what they meant and one day they had stopped.

Max shook his head. "I'm afraid it will work her up." Remind her of the visions. The sentence hung between the men, unvoiced.

"She has to know," Maria protested. "This might have something to do with…" she lowered her voice "…your past."

A look transpired between Max and Michael. Michael knew what Max was telling him; protect Isabel at all costs. What could possibly hurt their sister was to remain unsaid. They needed to find out more first. Maria noticed the look and having been a part of the foursome of friends for a large part of her life, she had a good idea what it meant. She decided to partly redirect the conversation.

"And while you were having these…visions," Maria murmured. "You were seemingly having a seizure? Maybe it was just your mind playing tricks. I mean, a lot of weird things happen to your body when you're having a seizure."

"Yeah," Max agreed. "I've considered that. I've even considered my mind using images from my memory that I recognize, tricking me into believing this is a novel experience."

Michael had decided to take a handful of Max's French fries and dose them in a great deal of Tabasco sauce. Max wasn't eating much anyway. "What do you mean?"

Max looked at him straight on and said evenly, "I recognized the girl."

"We know her?" Maria breathed.

Michael remained quiet, watching the emotions play out in Max's eyes. Max had never excelled in hiding his feelings.

"I know her."

"What does-"

Michael interrupted Maria's stricken questioning, "It's from your dreams. It's one of the girls from your dreams." Not a question. A statement.

Max nodded.

"Hmm…" Michael breathed contemplatively, unconsciously tightening his arm around Maria. He was suddenly the one in need of comfort.

Maria, catching on, let go of Max's hand to run the hand through her blonde large curls in a nervous gesture. "I thought they stopped. Your dreams."

"They did," Max replied and leaned back in his seat. "Look. Like I said, I'm not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me-"

"Considering our background, the rational explanation is not the simplest - or the truest," Michael voiced. "We can't rule anything out. We just have to wait and see if it happens again."

Maria looked at him incredulously. "Wait? Until he has another seizure?"

"Maybe it's not seizures," Max answered, saving Michael from a scolding. "Maybe it is some kind of vision and the seizures is the outside camouflage of what's going on. So that no one will question it."

"Well," Maria said. "In that case, I find that camouflage lousy." She folded her arms across her chest. "For the record, I'm firmly against waiting this out and awaiting possible damage to Max's mind and body."

Michael shrugged, seemingly undisturbed by the premise of the experiment. "I say, let's see what happens next. Maybe it'll give us some information. It's been awhile since we found out something new after all."

But on the inside, Michael was worried. What if it really was seizure activity? What if it was an early sign of how years of using otherworldly abilities possibly had degraded a human body? What if it was a sign of something greater? Something dangerous?
He might not be a fan of Max Evans, most of the time, but Max was the closest thing he had to a brother and he would fight to keep it that way.

TBC… (in a week)