Ending Two, Part 15 (or Part 91)
He stood across the street, his eyes scanning over the Evans home. The residential neighborhood was quiet but still he searched for anything that might be out of place. An elderly man stood on the front lawn watering his grass, another man stepped out of his front door to collect the morning paper, and a few doors down a woman stood on her front porch drinking a cup of coffee or maybe tea as she attempted to covertly observe a third man as he came around the corner at the end of the block. He was bare-chested, wearing running shoes and shorts, his focus seemingly on the music coming through the earphones tucked into his ears.
Michael smirked when the jogger slowed his pace as he passed the woman's house, his gaze flicking over her and giving just the slightest nod when she lifted two fingers from the fragile-looking cup she held before disappearing back inside the house. The jogger picked up his pace again, his purpose obviously renewed. Her husband was probably on his way to work and she was on her way to let her lover in through the back door. The secrets these quiet neighborhoods harbored, he thought with a shake of his head.
His gaze shifted back to the Evans home, watching as the front door opened and Max stepped outside to look around. When he noticed the newspaper lying on the sidewalk about halfway between the front porch and the mailbox beside the sidewalk he ran out to pick it up. He had barely turned to make the return trip when the sprinklers came on and he paused, turning in a circle as he looked at the water raining down on him. With a childish laugh he ran up and down the walkway, arms stretched out at his sides as he made noises that he imagined were supposed to mimic the sound of an airplane.
He was pinning the safety of the planet on this little boy. He sighed and shook his head as the airplane sounds got louder. If things went right it would work. The boy was a dreamer but with guidance from his self in this timeline that would be tempered and balanced with the skills necessary to do the job. He lifted his gaze when the front door opened and Philip Evans stepped out and called Max back inside, shaking his head when the boy ran up to him and presented him with his soaking wet morning paper.
As he watched the lawyer ruffled the boy's hair affectionately and Max threw his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly for a moment before running into the house. He waited while the man took his time unfolding the newspaper and shaking it out, using the opportunity to look around his neighborhood. He saw the look of tension settle over him when Evans noticed him standing across the street and he pushed away from the tree he had been leaning against when the man gave him a slight nod.
Earlier that morning he had received the call he had been impatiently waiting for and he had agreed to a meet. He really had no idea what to expect from the meeting, unfamiliar as he was with children. As a rule they were nothing more than an aggravation to be endured when he went out in public places such as grocery stores that were frequented by people of all ages, and he had been known to snarl at the irritating things and send them running back to their parents crying. He couldn't do that with these two. No, he had to approach them differently. Not as equals obviously, because alike or not, they weren't his equals.
They were children. Nine-year-old children. Somehow he just couldn't get his brain to let go of that reality. But they weren't like other brats, he reminded himself as he approached Evans. Max and Isabel Evans were different, they were like him, and they were being tasked with a mission that couldn't be allowed to fail.
"Mr. Guerin, how are you this morning?" Philip asked as they entered the house.
"I'm alive," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked around for the other occupants. "Let's dispense with the pleasantries. I'm not here to make small talk. You said I could meet with them and that's why I'm here."
"Hybrids or not, let's get one thing straight, Mr. Guerin." Philip brought himself up to his full height, forcing down the feeling of trepidation that washed over him when the man stared at him coldly. "They're my children. Hybrids, saviors of this planet, whatever else you want to call them they're first and foremost my children."
"That's sweet but it has no bearing on the situation." He paused a moment and tipped his head back slightly, his eyes boring holes into the lawyer. The man wasn't backing down and like it or not, he did respect it. "Evans, I don't know what you think I might do to your children, but the fate of this planet and its people rests partially but heavily on their shoulders. They're safe with me."
"While you may not understand my hesitation at letting you speak to my children about this, I'm just as dedicated to ensuring their safety."
"I don't doubt it. Now let's get this meeting started because I have precious little time to stand here debating with you."
Philip nodded. "My wife would like to meet you first."
He exhaled loudly, impatiently. "Evans, you're trying my patience."
"Then let's not waste anymore time." He motioned to the living room entrance. "She's right through here."
Diane Evans nervously plucked at the tufted edges of the small decorative pillow she was holding in her lap. She didn't like the idea of this man, this stranger, coming into their lives and insisting that her children would bear so much responsibility for the fate of the world. It seemed inconceivable. It seemed cruel. She felt her throat lock up when her husband entered the room and she got her first look at the man with him.
Dangerous. That was the first word that came to mind as she watched the way his dark eyes swept over the room, missing nothing. She cleared her throat delicately and placed the pillow aside as she stood, her hands anxiously smoothing over her clothes. She swallowed convulsively when that disarming gaze landed on her and she tried not to think about what her little girl could have seen in this man's mind. He was a young man, 25 or 26 if she remembered correctly, but he was battle-hardened and she harbored no doubt that he could kill without blinking an eye. No, she didn't want him around her innocent children, didn't want them tainted by knowledge he had obtained while doing the unthinkable. This man had blood on his hands and she wondered just how many people had lost their lives to him.
"Diane."
She started when her husband called her name, his tone indicating it wasn't the first time. "I'm so sorry, where are my manners?" She laughed, the sound revealing her nerves, and she held her hand out. "I'm Diane Evans."
"Guerin," he growled and shook her hand quickly before dropping it. "Michael Guerin."
"Mr. Guerin – "
"Michael's fine," he interrupted.
"Of course." She forced a smile. "Michael, my husband's explained the situation and while I must admit I find it all incredibly fantastic, what proof do you have that what you say is true?"
He bit back his irritation, knowing he had to handle this right if he was going to be successful. "I have no proof beyond my existence in this timeline. I can prove I am who I say I am, but beyond that no, I have nothing I can show you to prove that my mission involves your children."
"It's true!"
She whirled around when she heard her daughter whisper loudly from behind her. Isabel and Max were crowded in the doorway, their eyes darting around the room and settling on the man who had come in and was set on disrupting their lives.
"Isabel, what're you doing? I told you two to wait in your rooms."
"You have to trust him, he's not lying," the girl insisted.
Michael's attention was drawn to Max when he felt the boy staring at him and it took an effort to remain still under the watchful gaze of the attentive nine-year-old. He was being studied and as he waited Max moved past his sister and skirted around his mother when she made a move to intercept him.
His hands were in constant motion, playing with a toy car as he approached the man. When he finally stood in front of him he tipped his head back to look up into his unsmiling face. He lifted his hand and curled his forefinger repeatedly in a come-down-to-my-level gesture. He was aware of Isabel coming to stand beside him as he waited for the man to comply with his request and after several minutes he began to wonder why the man wasn't moving.
Michael's gaze was locked on the two of them and after a while he dropped to his haunches to crouch down in front of the children. He couldn't explain the pull he felt around them, but being this close to them it was undeniably there. It was like there was a connection and he could only hope that his younger self would be able to accept it and not push them away. He wouldn't like having them around at first, he knew that for a fact, but if he could allow himself to accept it then he knew Maria was right, and it would change the course of his future. Of their future.
Diane watched her children and Michael, unable to look away from the scene they made as they faced each other. Their expressions were so… in tune, that it made her nervous all over again. There was no escaping the fact that some sort of connection did exist between them; there was no sign of fear on the faces of her children, but she still didn't understand it. She lifted her head to look at her husband and her unease with the situation dropped down a notch when he moved to stand next to her, taking her hand in his and giving it a comforting squeeze.
"I don't understand it either," he murmured, "but I don't think there's any question that what we're doing here is right."
Michael was aware of the conversation between the parents but his focus was on the children as he tried to figure out what he was going to say to them. He didn't know what to say or how to talk to them. Would they even be capable of comprehending what he had to tell them? Could they understand the importance of what was being asked of them?
Trust them, Michael. Maria's voice floated through his head on a whisper and his resolve hardened. They were just very short people, he decided. He would just talk to them the way he would to someone who didn't necessarily understand mission protocol, but who needed to be informed of a situation. They were half alien, they were of above-average intelligence, and Maria had been certain it was imperative that they had to bond in order to form a cohesive unit that would one day take on an enemy intent on taking over Earth.
"You're aware of the situation," he said finally and shook his head when they continued to stare at him. "Your father told you everything, and I know it's a lot to take in. The fact that we aren't like everyone else, the coming war, the knowledge that some day in the future you're gonna have to save Maria and Liz – "
"I'm gonna save Liz," Max whispered reverently.
"I'm gonna save Liz," Isabel mocked and elbowed her brother.
"You're just jealous 'cause you're not gonna save anybody." He stuck his tongue out at her. "But I am. I'm gonna save Liz Parker."
Michael ignored the strange brother/sister relationship and continued. "Yeah, that's a very important objective, but there's a lot more to this than just saving Parker. We have a mission that has to be undertaken."
Max's eyes widened and he looked at his sister. "See? We have a mission. We're like real live superheroes, Izzy!"
He reached up to rub his face, using the motion to hide his amusement at being labeled a superhero. Being the superhero and saving his fantasy girl was prime wet dream material for a nine-year-old boy even though he didn't really understand what it was all about just yet. He stood and their bickering immediately stopped as they looked up at him. He moved to the couch, taking a seat, and motioning for them to join him.
Max and Isabel sat on the coffee table in front of him, their features attentive as they waited for him to speak. After a couple of minutes though, Max couldn't take the silence any longer and he leaned forward, his sharp eyes locking on Michael.
"Did you really come from the future?" he asked.
"Yeah, someone had to get back here and fix things before they could get royally screwed up."
"Are Liz an' Maria superheroes too?"
Michael shook his head. "No, but you know how every superhero has a sidekick? Well, they're kinda like that. Each of us has one."
"Which one's yours?" He frowned. "I get Liz." That was non-negotiable as far as he was concerned. "I don't think Maria would wanna be my sister's sidekick though 'cause Izzy can be kinda mean sometimes an' she thinks Maria's weird anyways."
"Maria is kinda weird," he agreed. But he wouldn't change her for anything in the world. "But I think she's safe because she'll be my sidekick."
"Cool. But doesn't Izzy get a sidekick too?"
Michael rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his head as he reminded himself to keep his cool with the kid's constant questions. He ran over everything Maria had told him, remembering key pieces of what had and hadn't worked in their group, what had made them stronger, what had caused the most damage, and finally he lifted his head again. "Alex Whitman."
"Alex Whitman?!" Isabel screeched, mindless of the way Michael cringed in response to the sound. "But he's the biggest dork in school! I don't want him!" She nearly pushed her brother off of the table when he laughed so hard he had to bend over to hold his sides.
"Isabel, don't push your brother," Diane insisted. "And Max, behave yourself!"
"That's really not the point," Michael interrupted. "Should you decide you want a sidekick at some point he'll be the one, but that's something that can be decided at a later date." Okay, he may have made a slight miscalculation with that one, he thought. Even at nine years old Isabel was clearly aware of her social status. He steered the conversation back to the subject at hand, explaining everything he could think of related to the mission and what was going to be needed to accomplish it.
The hours passed and the day wore on as he fielded questions from Max, Isabel and their parents. As evening approached he declined the invitation to stay for dinner, needing to be alone after so much time with the family. He spoke to Philip before leaving, scheduling another meeting because he still needed to figure out how best to bring them together with his younger self. He also needed to retrieve the memory device he had hidden so that he could give it to them. His next meeting with them would be the last and he wanted to make sure all of the loose ends were tied up before he disappeared.