Isabel tossed and turned restlessly in her tent that night, and finally, gave up and rolled onto her back in exasperation. They should be back by now. Of course, it wasn't an exact science, and she couldn't be completely certain of when they would arrive, but she felt that they were close. She threw the blanket off in disgust and sat up rubbing her eyes with shaking hands. She needed to know they were all right. She needed them here, close to her . . .

I wanted to see you walking backwards, And get the sensation of you coming home. I wanted to see you walking away from me, Without the sensation of you leaving me alone.

Her thoughts settled on Alex, then, and she closed her eyes in frustration, as she realized that she still had no idea what to expect. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. During the day, she had been so busy and it had been easier to force these things from her mind, but at night, when everything was so quiet, there was nothing else to do.

Not that she was complaining. Spending more than two days in the same camp was an extraordinary experience after all these months of moving so often. However, she hadn't slept to amount to anything since Michael had left. Muscles knotted in fatigue and her head ached from the lack of rest.

Time and time again. Time and time again. Time and time again. I can't please myself . . .

Dragging herself out of her tent, she stood and stared out across the expanse of wilderness that made up their campsite. Nothing. It looked like it always did. Barren. Isolated. The moon was full tonight, and it was so bright outside that she didn't need a flashlight in order to pick out a path. As she walked on, she felt some of the tension fade away and she relaxed a little. They would be here soon. They had to be.

She came to a halt at the edge of the campsite. This was her favorite place . . . to think . . . to be alone with her thoughts . . .

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An hour later, Isabel became aware of the cold and the lateness of the hour, and started to turn back towards the camp, when she spotted something unusual out of the corner of her eye. Out of habit, she quickly hid herself and watched carefully before making her presence known. At the very edge of her field of vision, she saw a hint of movement. It could've been nothing, but . . .

As her tired eyes tried to focus through darkness and distance, certainty seeped through to her mind and heart. She didn't have to see clearly to know. They were home. She sprang up and ran as fast as she could towards what was at this point still just a mirage. As she grew closer, she could see Max with one arm around Liz supporting her. Next she saw Michael. He was walking close to Maria and holding her hand. And, finally, . . . Alex. He was here. No more conjuring up his image in a dream. He was here now. Heedless of the circumstances or the myriad problems that her mind screamed at her as she ran; she did not stop until she stood within an arms length of the only man she could ever love. He was dirty, sore, and tired, but even in this mind-numbing condition, his heart responded to the sight of Isabel running towards them and stopping in front of him. Not Max. Not Michael. Him. Alex Whitman. Her eyes never wavered from his face, even though he knew she had to have been worried half to death about her brother and Michael. Without thinking her hand automatically raised and touched his face tenderly brushing away some of the dust that clung to his skin. Alex's eyes slid shut as he felt her touch, and his emotions tried to cope with what they thought was impossible. Tears welled in her eyes as she watched him and her mind warred with her heart, demanding that it accept the reality of his presence.

Alex reached for her blindly and pulled her into his arms, as if she might disappear any moment if he didn't hold her tight. He ran an open hand down the back of her head and felt the silky strands of hair beneath his fingers that he thought he would never feel again. Breathing in the scent that belonged only to her, Alex felt his heart breaking all over again in response . . .

Isabel: (voice breaking with unshed tears) "I have missed you . . . "

Alex kissed her cheek and knew there was no way he could say anything right now without completely breaking down. She seemed to understand and turned her body so that his arm was around her shoulders. He glanced down at her and wondered how in the world he could possibly feel as if he had come home for the first time in his life. Here . . . in this wilderness . . .

The six of them walked, stumbled, and struggled, braced carefully against each other, across the last of their journey. Making their way back to relationships and dreams that had all but died, and forging ahead into a new life . . .

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I wanted the ocean to cover over me. I wanted to sink slowly without getting wet. Maybe someday, I won't be so lonely And, I'll walk on water every chance I get . . .

New sounds and smells woke the three newest additions to the camp. Liz stretched and snuggled closer to Max who was still sleeping. She knew he was, just by the sound of his breathing, and the steady rise and fall of his chest under her hand. Idly, she wondered what time it was. She hadn't opened her eyes yet, but she knew from the shade of brilliant red displayed on the inside of her eyelids that it was light outside. Very light. They had arrived so late the night before, she wouldn't be surprised if it wasn't noon. She had expected her body to ache intensely today, but before she went to sleep last night, Max had attentively sought out and healed every muscle and nerve. She felt wonderful. A little tired, but certainly not what one would expect from having travelled the countryside majorally on foot. Her mind wandered to the time she had spent alone in his tent, their tent, last night, waiting on him to come to bed. He had seen to Maria and Alex and Michael, before, joining her. She had been grateful for the momentary reprieve to spend some time alone with her thoughts and sort them out. She had, in the space of a few days, acquired a husband, and along with him, a whole new life. She had no idea what exactly was in store for her, but whatever may be, she was determined to rise to the task and help Max however she could. Somewhere in her mind, not necessarily in the back, but more like bouncing around from side to side just out of reach, she knew she had a purpose here. Max was right, no matter how much physical evidence there was to the contrary, she was his wife, his mate. She could feel it inside. And, more than that, she knew he needed her to fulfill his mission here. His Destiny. Maybe now it was her Destiny, too.

She opened her eyes slowly and drew in her breath at the sight of her husband's face. Lightly, she traced the outline of his mouth with her fingers. Memories of the way his mouth felt on hers flooded her body, as her hand slid along his cheek to just under his ear. As her fingers separated and ran into his hair, she became aware that she would do anything for him and had. She had turned her back on her home and her family and everything that was familiar. She closed her eyes and sent up a quiet prayer that at least she still had Maria and Alex with her. But, she knew, that even if she hadn't, her decision would've been the same.

Understanding was not complete and right now it really didn't matter. Max was the other half of her soul. How could one possibly live without the other half of oneself?

So when are you coming home Sweet Angel? You leaving me alone? All alone? Well, if I'm drowning darling, you'll come down this way on your own . . .

His beautiful eyes opened just after his breath shortened into a rhythm that let her know he was waking up. As his mind confirmed that she was really here with him, his expression softened. He felt her fingers pressed against his skull, cradling his ear. This was her first morning in her new home. He couldn't help but feel awkward about the circumstances . . . She was sleeping on the ground in a tent . . .

Liz: (voice husky) "Yes, but it's your tent . . . "

Max: (eyes widening in surprise) "I keep forgetting you can do that . . . "

Liz: (smiling) "What? Read your mind?"

Max: "Yeah."

Liz: (shrugging) "You'll get used to it."

Max thought over what she'd said and realized that she was right. He would get used it. And a whole lot more besides. Like sleeping next to her every night and waking up beside her every morning. And making love to her every chance he got . . .

I wish I was travelling on a freeway, Beneath this graveyard western sky. I'm gonna set fire to this city. And, out into the desert we're gonna ride . . .

Her warm, soft body slid beneath his, as if it were where she had always been meant to be . . . probably because it was. Her eyes were wide and staring up at him in such adoration that Max had to close his for a moment. How could she feel this way, after everything that had happened . . . ?

Liz: (simply) "How could I not love you?"

Max: (shaking his head) "I suppose there is something to the theory that you don't have any choice . . . . "

Liz: (distressed) "Max!" . . . "That's ridiculous! I loved you a long time before we knew anything about predestined mates. I always had a choice."

Max: (not entirely convinced but unprepared to argue just now) "I'm very happy to hear that."

Liz felt the source of Max's reluctance to carry on the conversation pressing against her insistently. Rational thought was quickly evaporating, as her body took over where her mind left off . . .

Max sensed the shift in her attention as the breath left her body on a sigh. He loved that sound . . . Dropping his mouth close to her ear lobe, he let himself become completely preoccupied with the way it slid through his teeth as he lightly sucked . . .

Liz: (shivering at the sensitivity of her ear) "Max . . . "

Max raised his head to watch her face before kissing her forehead and then her eyes, cheeks, nose, and finally, her lips . . .

Liz reveled in the feeling of his arousal pressed tightly against her . . . Her hips moved arching towards him trying to bring him closer . . .

It wasn't a difficult task, since Max had completely undressed her last night in his determination to seek out every affected part of her body and heal it. When he had finished she had been so sedated that she'd fallen asleep with a "thank you" on her lips that just did make it to Max before she was gone . . .

Now, her well rested body clamored for the completion that it found necessary in order to survive. Liz arched her back in a helpless, involuntary motion, as she felt Max's body entering hers . . .

Her breath rushed out and sounded a lot like his name, Max thought. Liz felt as if her heart would burst. A flood of tenderness overwhelmed her as her mind was exposed to his body's physical condition. While, she and Alex and Maria had been healed of all their ailments caused by the trip, Max had to just endure . . .

Surpassing all the discomfort he felt, was the raging need he had to be with her this way. She wasn't surprised by it. How could she be? She shared in that need with him. As he brought her closer and closer to the most incredible pleasure she had never even known existed, she couldn't help but want to do the same for him. She moved with him and wondered at how he could push himself so hard to please her and be struggling with so much pain at the same time. The knowledge itself was like a lightning bolt searing through her conscious. Her body responded without waiting for further provocation from her mind. As she held him tightly to her, the inevitable volcanic eruption swept over her mind, leaving no thought untouched by the hot lava that flowed, extinguishing the power that kept her brain active. Sensation without thought. Feeling without conscience. It was devastating and beautiful . . .

Max buried his face in the hollow of her neck and inhaled deeply, drawing air into his lungs to feed his racing heart. Her scent did nothing to calm his heart rate. Her skin was soft against his closed eyelids and nose and lips. He had felt her distress as she discovered his various injuries and for the first time wished there had been a way to keep her from seeing inside of him. He never wanted her to feel so sad. It seemed as if her heart were breaking, all because she could sense his pain.

Her fingers were combing through his hair making him want to stay where he was indefinitely, but even with his eyes closed he could sense something was wrong. Lifting his head to look at her face, he was stunned to see tears slipping out of the corners of her closed eyes. She hadn't made a sound . . .

Max: (fear rising up) "Liz?" (swallowing hard) "What's wrong?"

She opened her eyes, but said nothing. She didn't have to. She reached up to cradle his cheek in her hand, and he instantly felt her emotions overflowing . . .

His body had always seemed so strong . . . solid and secure . . . but now she wondered if he were as invincible as he seemed. He couldn't be completely impervious to pain, even though she would never know it, if she hadn't felt it for herself. What if someday there was something that he couldn't handle? Something that might threaten to take him away from her? What then?

Liz: "Max?"

Max: (forcing the word out around the tightness in his throat) "What?"

Liz: "Who heals you?"

Almost completely overwhelmed by the torrent of her emotions, he looked into her too serious eyes. Confusion muddled his responses, and a resulting silence ensued. Liz pushed against his chest until he sat up. She sat up, too, and then she pushed him back down on his back, just the way she had been last night. Scooting backward until she was kneeling between his feet, Max watched her in bewilderment.

In fact, Liz didn't even know what she was doing, but she just knew she had to try . . .

Closing her eyes and exhaling she cleared her mind and focused on Max . . . somewhere in some recessed part of her conscious, she knew this . . . it was a discipline that she understood but had long been dormant . . .

Grasping his foot in both of her hands, she held it firmly but at the same time gently. Moving her fingers along the small bones in the top of his foot, she felt her mind reach for long forgotten, buried information and pull it out of the darkness. Max watched her as long as he could before the intensity overwhelmed him . . .

She moved her hand around to the sole of his foot and he felt the trail of fire her fingers left behind as they travelled from heel to toe. In the wake of that firestorm, Max found that his foot was completely free of pain . . .

Liz carefully placed that foot back down and reached for the other one, healing it the same way. Max watched her in varying degrees of shock and lust. When she finished with his feet, her hands travelled up the muscles in the backs of his legs, and each time the same burning sensation was followed by the most intense relief he had ever experienced.

Her hands sought out and healed every aching muscle, . . . every bone . . . every nerve ending . . . until he felt as undone as she had last night.

He struggled against the almost narcotic sedation, but was lost in a matter of moments . . .

Liz collapsed onto his chest with a hope in her heart for their future that hadn't been there before and an unshakeable belief in who she was . . .

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Michael watched Maria sleeping next to him and tried really hard to grasp the reality of the situation. It wasn't easy. So many of his sleeping and waking moments had revolved around this very circumstance. How could she really be here? Looking at her exhausted face, it wasn't too difficult to figure out. The purple shadows under her eyes caused his chest to tighten at the thought of what it had cost her to come here. But, come she had. True, her life had been at stake, but he wasn't going to let that small detail get in the way. She was here and that was all that mattered now. He wished he could've been the one who had put her to sleep last night, but Max was the one with the power to heal. This might've bothered Michael a few months ago, but now he understood his role and his purpose. He had the ability to save their lives and had done so more than once. It suited him. He was comfortable with it.

Discovering who you were and operating out of that had a great deal to do with one's peace of mind. He only hoped Maria could accept who and what he was. Pulling her gently close to him, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

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It was mid afternoon now and the sun shone brightly in the sky, as Isabel felt the first pull of awareness on her unconscious mind. Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light, and were met with the sight of Alex's sleeping face. There had never been any question as to where he would stay. After Max had come and gone, Alex had slid into a deep sleep, and Isabel had curled up on her side facing him just so she could listen to him breathing and watch his face and wonder what he was dreaming. She couldn't bring herself to invade his dreams tonight. It had been so long since she'd dreamwalked that she wasn't even sure she remembered how. Oh, how she wished he would wake up. She wanted to see his eyes and hear his voice . . . But, he was exhausted and sleep was what he needed right now . . .

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Max awoke some time later to find Liz lying on top of him with her ear pressed to his chest. It was early evening now, and shadows were starting to fall outside, creating a twilight atmosphere inside the tent.

He wanted to stretch his muscles and flex limbs that felt better than they had in months. However, disturbing her was out of the question, so stretching would have to wait. He could, however, let his mind wander to what she had done, or more importantly, how she had done it. Max knew in his heart that she was the one, but he had not expected her to have powers the same way that he and Michael and Isabel did, not to mention Tess. Probably should've expected it, but . . .

Liz murmured something in her sleep and Max ran his hand over her head and down her back, letting her hair slide underneath his fingers. The expression on his face was one of pure possession. He thought briefly of the way children were known to say, "mine," before they ever learned to say much else. He decided it was a very useful word, as he took his time making a visual inspection of his bride. She just became more beautiful every time he looked at her . . .

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Tess glared at her image in the mirror . . . Years of planning and effort were sinking like the infamous Titanic.

Even her face had been the result of an incredible amount of scientific research and precision in execution. Liz Parker. The leader's greatest weakness . . . . . Grudgingly, she had to admit now that she may also prove to be his greatest strength. In disgust, she turned her mind to other matters. Michael Guerin had certainly shown himself to be a quick study. More than that, he had accepted his place and purpose. That was more powerful than any amount of skill that he may develop. He was an incredible threat to her plans . . .

As a matter of fact, they were all turning out to be more inconvenient than she had been prepared for.

Smiling at her reflection in the mirror, satisfaction emanated from her countenance, as she did what she did best . . . adaptation at its pinnacle . . .

Beings with no souls were very good at that . . . She had nothing much to lose . . . Even her face was an illusion . . . something made up in a lab to serve a single purpose . . .

Her eyelids drifted shut and then pressed tightly together as light flashed all around her. In a blur, the image of that face shifted and faded until a new face appeared in it's place, along with a new body . . . . .