Nonetheless, his boss had been caught up in making sure the center would run smoothly in his absence, and that all of his monitoring equipment was working. He was hoping for some sort of sign that it was about to happen again, unlike the last time.

He'd rambled on and on about how puzzled he was that his equipment hadn't registered anything the last time he'd been taken. Surely there had to be something, he'd argued. Max had just stood by silently and listened to him.

Earlier in the day, he'd asked Brody about what it had been like when he'd been diagnosed with cancer, and what the doctor had said upon finding that it had just disappeared. With Liz getting sick, Max wanted to know everything he could about the deadly disease. He needed to be ready to help her in any way he could.

He thought she was holding up amazingly well for someone who'd diagnosed themselves with possibly having cancer. When he'd left to go to work, Isabel and Alex had taken her back to the Evans's residence. This would probably be the last night she'd have to stay in hiding. The silver handprint on her stomach had faded considerably as the day went on. By tomorrow morning, it would be gone, and she'd have to go home. He was already missing having her so nearby all the time. The last few days had been almost like old times, when they'd been going out. He was thankful that they'd decided to give their friendship another chance. He went cold every time he thought of how easily he might have thrown it all away because he'd been feeling hurt after the Kyle incident. Well, ok, 'hurt' was too mild a word for the devastation he'd been feeling, but he knew that whatever it was, she'd had a damn good reason for her deception, and he hoped that one day she'd feel like telling him about it.

As he walked up the front steps to his house, he thought of how tired he was. It had been a stressful week with worrying about Liz, finals and the impending arrival of the emissary. Thank goodness it was finally Christmas break and he could take a breather from schoolwork for two long weeks. He stopped by the kitchen on the way to his room and poured himself a glass of water. Drinking thirstily, he silently made his way down the hall and cracked open his bedroom door. Looking around, he didn't see Liz anywhere.

"Liz? It's me," he said softly, in case she was hiding from him with her new powers. There was no answer, so he came inside and set his glass down carefully. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on feeling Liz's presence. No, he decided after a minute. She wasn't in the room.

It was then that he heard the soft sounds coming from Isabel's room. Swinging around, he hurried back down the hall. At her door, he heard the sound again. It was both Liz and Isabel's voices making distressed noises.

Fearing an intruder, Max swung the door open and stepped inside. He quickly scanned the room, but saw nothing unusual. Unless you count Liz Parker being an overnight guest as unusual. Both of the girls were sharing Isabel's bed. They were sleeping, that much was evident, but apparently his sister was caught up in some nightmare. "Max, no... Critical... I have to...?"

Her head was thrashing around on the pillow. Max bent over to shake her awake. As he did, the covers slid down her arm. "Isabel." He whispered it, not wanting to disturb Liz. Shaking her harder, he repeated, "Isabel."

She turned over to face him, and he noted absently that one of her hands had been resting lightly against Liz's back as she'd slept. "Max?" a groggy Isabel asked.

"You were dreaming. Are you ok?"

"God, Max. It was that same dream again. I just can't seem to get rid of it."

"Come on, let's go talk about it." He put out his hand to help her out of bed. As their skin touched, he was suddenly struck with an image of a clown. It was both dark and light around him as he smiled a big clown smile before turning away. The lingering sense of fear and revulsion he got from his sister shocked him, but not as much as the hate and terror that were underneath it. The terror he realized instantly wasn't for herself, but for him, Max. For some reason, the clown made Isabel afraid for him. He wanted to ask her about it, but forced himself to wait so that they wouldn't disturb Liz.

The two of them quietly slipped out of Isabel's room and into Max's. Chilled from the dream as much as the night air, Isabel quickly climbed into his bed and pulled the covers up over herself.

Max jumped right into the topic with, "Isabel, when I touched you just now, I got a flash of a clown. Who was he? Why were you so afraid of him?"

"A clown? Max, I've never been afraid of clowns," she scoffed.

"You were of this one. He had a white clown face and orange hair. A plaid jacket. I saw it," he insisted.

She realized right away what he was referring to. "Oh, that clown. He was from my dream. You saw him?"

Max nodded. "Why did he frighten you so much?"

"I don't know. I mean, I wasn't me. I..." She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair in agitation. "Remember how I told you that I was dead in the dream. That at first I was haunting Liz, and then it was like I became Liz?"

"Yes."

"That was one of the times that I was Liz. I don't know why, but I guess she's the one afraid of the clown."

"Why would Liz be afraid of a clown?" Max asked perplexed.

"I don't know. That's just one of the strange things about this dream."

"But Isabel, your fear, Liz's fear, whatever, was for me. You or she was afraid of the clown for my sake. I felt it in the flash."

Isabel closed her eyes, trying to remember the clown from the dream. "That can't be right, because the clown was you, Max."

"Isabel, I wasn't the clown. He didn't look a thing like me."

"Well, no not then, but he was you. I mean, that's why I kissed you. Because you were the clown."

"Wait. You kissed me?" Max tried to control his shock at that announcement. "As in kissed me?"

"Yeah, but, I was pretending to be Liz, so I guess Liz kissed you. Liz kissed you and you turned into the clown."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Max asked, a bewildered look on his face.

"That she thinks you're a fool? I don't know. Dream interpretation isn't exactly a hard science, you know." Seeing the hurt in his eyes, Isabel quickly apologized. "Max, it was just a dream. It's not like it was real. I'm sure she doesn't think you're a fool."

Pulling on a pillow to make herself more comfortable she added under her breath, "Now, if you were to show up outside her window in a sombrero singing to her in Spanish, then I wouldn't be so sure..."

Max's head snapped up, and in a deadly calm voice he asked, "What did you say?"

"I said that if you were to serenade her in Spanish accompanied by a Mariachi band..." Here she snickered. "Then we would both definitely think you were a fool. But since that would never happen, then I think you're safe."

In a soft voice, his face carefully blank, he whispered, "What if there were flowers?"

She nodded. "Well, since you'd bring her red roses, that's a big minus, but if you remembered that she preferred white, after you tossed them up to her and they changed in mid-air, that'd be a double plus. One for remembering, and one for having cool powers."

"Isabel, did Liz tell you this?" She chuckled. "Relax, Max, it was from that dream. Liz isn't running around trying to paint you as a desperate loser who would stoop to public humiliation in order to win her back."

Stung, Max said, "Thanks a lot."

"Geez, why are you being so sensitive about this? It's not like it really happened or anything. I mean..."

"Yes, it did," he interrupted in mid-rant.

Isabel swallowed what she'd been about to say to stare at him. "What? What are you talking about?"

"It happened. Just like you said. I went to Liz's one night with a Mariachi band. They were friends of..."

"Mr. Del Gado at the hardware store?" she asked sarcastically.

Surprise at her correct answer, he asked, "How did you know that?"

"I guessed. In my dream, you told Liz that you'd spent a week learning the lyrics from Mr. Del Gado. So I figured they must have been friends of his."

"I never told her that," Max said, staring at his sister.

"Well, you did in my dream. What else happened?" Isabel was certain the he was pulling her leg. At least she was until he said...

"I borrowed his sombrero which was a little too big. It was black and silver. I was holding a dozen red roses behind my back. When I tossed them to her, I changed them to white because I remembered that she preferred white roses to red, just like you said."

"Max, this is impossible. How is it that I'm dreaming about you and Liz?"

"I don't know. When did you start having them? The dreams, I mean?"

"Umm..." she thought for a moment. "I don't know. I guess it was the night that Liz fainted, but Max, I still don't get it."

"You must have dreamwalked her, Isabel. When I came and woke you up tonight, you were touching her while you were sleeping. She must have brought you into her dreams on accident."

"But if what you're saying is true, then she wasn't dreaming, she was remembering. This still doesn't make any sense, Max. If this really happened, and you were down below, singing to her, then who was the guy on the balcony with her?"

Max shot to his feet. "What?"

"The whole time you were singing, there was another you on the balcony with her. He's the one who told her about Mr. Del Gado."

"There was someone else there with her?"

"Not someone, Max, you. You were there with her. See, so it couldn't have been real."

He paced in agitation for a minute, thinking of what this could mean. His thoughts must have shown on his face because Isabel leaned forward to remind him, "It was just a dream, Max. It probably doesn't mean anything. It's like the clown. You're not going to turn into a clown are you?"

Sitting back down, Max rubbed his hand across his face. "Let's start at the beginning. Tell me about your dream."

And she did.

Everything that had seemed surreal about her dream, Max had an explanation for.

Max hadn't argued with Liz telling him that she didn't want to be with him because she'd asked him to listen without interrupting, and he had. Liz seated at the dinner table with Tess and Ed Harding had happened the night she'd planted the surveillance camera in their home. The evil Max with the dead body took a little longer to explain, but it was Max who realized that it must have been the day that Nasedo had kidnapped Liz. Maria had told him that she had left the CrashDown with him one day, but Max hadn't seen her since early that morning. They'd realized that Nasedo had shapeshifted into Max and taken her unawares. That was why in the dream, Liz shifted from being with evil Max to Ed Harding so easily. They were both Nasedo.

Getting caught making out in the eraser room, and having both of their moms come to school to talk with the principal had happened right before they'd found the orb. Everything from her dream made sense to Max, who was able to put the pieces together. Even the clown that had Liz terrified for him was explained. It had to have been Nasedo the night he'd been captured by Agent Pierce. As a clown, Nasedo could have blended in perfectly with the carnival atmosphere.

Isabel was flabbergasted. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before, and she was scared of what it meant. But there was still one big question screaming inside her head. "Ok, so somehow, I managed to dreamwalk Liz unintentionally, but Max what about the part where me and Michael are dead?"

"Did you see yourself dying? I mean, how do you know you were dead?"

"I don't know. I don't remember." Just then, there was a noise at the window. They both looked up to see Michael's face looking in. Max motioned for him to enter and he slid open the window and climbed inside.

As he entered, Max continued what he'd been saying to Isabel. "Maybe you just thought you were dead because you were 'haunting' Liz," Max suggested. "What else could it be? You're obviously not dead," he pointed out.

Isabel looked uncertain. "I guess so... But Max, what about that other guy? The other you who was on the balcony with Liz the night you were serenading her? Who was he? He couldn't be Nasedo because it was after he'd died, right?"

Max sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know who he was."

"I do." A small gasp was heard in the doorway just as Max and Isabel turned to their lifelong friend in question.

"Michael, what are you talking about?"

"Who was it?" Max asked.

Michael looked at Liz, who had awoken just a minute ago and had gotten up to investigate the soft voices she'd heard coming from Max's room. She'd gone from slumberous to instantly alert as she'd heard Isabel's question.

Now she was just as surprised as the others as she looked at Michael after his declaration.