The way he had questioned Liz made Maria want to scream.

His tone had been so condescending! As if Liz was a child who had simply had a nightmare.

But after Mrs. Parker's hysterical reaction to the news, Liz needed strength right now, not emotional outbursts.

So Maria just gritted her teeth and walked over to Liz.

She was huddled on the table, as miserable as Maria had ever seen her.

Maria shook her head and reached out for Liz's limp hand.

"We'll figure it out, okay? He doesn't know crap. He doesn't even know what really happened."

Liz just pulled her hand away to wipe at a tear.

"Neither do I."

Maria turned away, her head aching.

This lump on the back of my head isn't helping anything, that's for sure.

She felt it with her fingertips as she had been compulsively ever since that Martian "ho" had thrown her back against the couch like a sack of potatoes.

God, did she want to get even with her for that!

She glanced over and saw Michael watching her with concern.

She pulled her fingers away from her head.

This was nothing.

And there was no *freakin'* way she was going to do what Michael wanted her to.

She crossed her arms.

She didn't care if he could heal her with one touch, Max Evans had better not come within ten feet of her or there would be hell to pay.

*****

Max had thought his life was pretty miserable before he saved Liz's life. And then again, when they were back to "just friends", it had been even worse.

But this...this was pure hell.

He knew what it was like to kiss Liz, to hold her and to have her want him.

And to go from that to this...

He sat still as stone, forcing the agonizing emotions down deep inside of him.

Right now, he couldn't afford to feel.

So he stood up...and paced.

This waiting was so useless.

The doctors wouldn't be able to tell them anything Max didnšt already know. Her eyes were fine; he had healed her completely.

Something else was keeping her from seeing.

But what?

If only Nasedo hadn't disappeared. He would know for sure.

And Tess...

Max winced.

Her name brought up a maelstorm of emotions.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall.

Anger. Tess had watched Liz hurting, fighting for life just yards away, and all she was concerned about was keeping Max for herself.

Fear. There was something else behind her eyes, something she wasn't telling him, something vital.

Frustration. He felt the drive for them to be together, to be mates as they were made to be, even though he knew they couldn't be.

And relief. That she was gone; that she had accepted his decision.

He loved Liz. He had chosen her. It was the only choice he could have made.

If only Liz could understand...

Max pushed off the wall as he saw Isabel walking over to him.

Her face was grim.

Max sighed.

The next few days were going to be rough ones, for everyone.

******

Liz was exhausted.

After two days of further testing, numerous specialists and lots of waiting, they were no closer to an answer.

She still couldn't see anything but darkness. Had to be helped everywhere, to do everything. It ate away at her to be so dependent on everyone else.

And her mom was driving her crazy. She had been overprotective before, but now she was practically psychotic about it.

Liz rolled her eyes.

Her poor little crippled daughter couldnšt be trusted alone for one minute.

Which was why Maria was sitting out here on the balcony, too.

Of course, it was nice not to be alone...with all that darkness crowding in on her.

And Maria was one of those comfortable kind of people who could be around a lot and not get in the way.

Liz smiled.

Like now, for example.

Even a newly-blind person could tell that Maria was fast asleep.

For one thing, she was actually quiet.

And she was making those little gurgly noises in the back of her throat.

Trust Maria to be completely original. She doesn't even snore like a normal person.

The cool night air brushed across Liz's face and she pulled the blanket up tighter.

God, how she wanted to write in her journal.

Her thoughts had been whirling around since that night, a jumble of worries, theories and fear.

They had gradually distilled into two sentences that she so desperately wanted to write down:

I now know that I can survive almost anything.