Unbreakable - A Beautiful Lie · (Roswell Fanfiction) · √

ONE ZERO FIVE

"She'll be okay," Alex said. But the delivery of his words was too hasty, too worried. I bet he had seen Maria's shirt by now as well.

"No," I repeated, at the lack of another word.

I saw the unshed tears glistening in Maria's eyes as she turned her gaze to meet mine. She looked regretful and ashamed. But mostly sad. She looked really sad.

I was surprised that she wasn't screaming in pain.

With the inexplicable return of my strength, I took Alex off guard and pulled out of his hold. Quickly crossing the floor, I slid to my knees in front of Maria and immediately found her hand. Her cold fingers returned my squeeze weakly and she wouldn't let go of my eyes.

"You're gonna be okay," I told her, tears muddling my voice. I told her this even when I had no idea what had just happened and how badly she was hurt. The blast - some part of it at least - must have hit her. There was no other explanation.

Max was on my right, running his hands down Maria's body. I felt the deep concentration in his mind and I knew he was getting ready to heal her. Michael was facing me with Maria's semi-reclined seated body propped up in front of him, her back to his chest.

When I was this close to them, I noticed that they weren't silent at all. Michael was talking quietly in long sequential sentences, alternating between addressing Maria and Max. It was the most I had ever heard him say.

I was surprised to hear his words. His apologies to Maria, over and over again. His soft scolding about her getting in the way and getting hurt. Him telling her that he hadn't rescued her from those assholes and brought her with him just to have her die here. Apologizing for failing in keeping her safe.

He fired off a sentence or two to Max, the pleads dripping with desperation that Max had to save Maria, that Max had to help her.

It was not just obvious that he felt numbingly guilty about what had happened, but that he might not be able to live with himself were Maria to die at his hand.

My eyes kept moving between Michael and Maria, my mouth slowly dropping open in confusion at how Michael was acting. I had never seen him so vulnerable, so caring, so human. His whole 'macho'-facade had evaporated, leaving only soft caresses of his fingers down Maria's pale cheeks and occasional fingers threading through her hair.

Something told me that Maria wasn't listening. Even with my own gaze scanning the members of the group, I felt her eyes on my face the whole time. Maria appeared detached, making me suspect that she might be in shock.

I looked back at her face and watched her eye blinks slow down, making her eyelids appear heavy. Not daring to remove my gaze from her face, I said warningly, "Max...She's-"

"I know," Max told me, his voice confident yet troubled.

He reached down and wrapped his large hand over mine and Maria's, cradling our hold in his hand. Then he pulled me into the healing process.

I recognized the pulling sensation at the center of my stomach this time, although it was far from as strong and overwhelming as when we had healed Alex. I had the feeling that Max wasn't involving me so much in the healing this time. Maybe it was because Alex's injuries had been more extensive and Max had needed more of my energy at that time. Or maybe he was afraid to pull from me when I had been so weak just minutes ago.

Max's mind was silent. He was focusing on helping Maria and wasn't engaging in my mental musings.

Instead I gasped as my inner eye caught onto Max's healing and I was shown the torn skin just above Maria's bellybutton. It looked like someone had taken a welding tool and quickly run it along her skin, grazing her. But it had been warm enough to cut through all the layers of her skin, the muscle layers and knick her spleen.