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The flaxen walls were burnt. A fury of madness and unwelcome sadness poured over his body. Max Evan's hid in a world of dreams he realized now that he was waking up.

The air was hot, and drips of sweat rolled gently and silently down his face which was rusted with black soot from whence he ran in after her. He thought that if he could just get to her then maybe, just maybe he could save her. But it was no use, the fire men held him back from going any farther then the burned out entryway. When he was pulled back to the street the doorway where he had just stood was suddenly engulfed with red hot flames that traveled through the wood like butter, making it dense and unrecognizable.

The doorway collapsed some minutes after, and the men soon gave up. Max saw them walk away, looks of self defeat on their faces, was it over, could it be over, was Liz really gone..................

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Morning now, but shadows hung like a veil over his web of anguish. His head was clouded with her face, her eye's, her smile, the sight of her body the way it was now. Max had spent the remainder of the night at the police station, seeking some kind of hope, waiting for Liz to walk through the door. Waiting for her to tell him everything would be all right.

He saw her lie down, a memory right before he left her apartment. She rested on her bed a fluffy blanket surrounded her in all colors. She smiled, she was always smiling, always laughing. He stood in the hall, the walls there were full with pictures, of her family, Maria, Alex, the whole gang back at the crashdown, and of Max. Pictures from every part of the world they had been in. New Mexico, New York, Washington, with that little picture of them in front of that little cafe in Seattle, Pictures from their trip to Italy a few years back, Max always looked at them, whenever he was there. It was like his sanity, Just to see them together forever.

He had said something funny, something that he couldn't remember now, but it made her laugh most of the bight, they had gone to a movie, which wasn't vary good so they went over to Liz's apartment, she made him dinner, and they talked for hours, just the two of them. "Your everything." He heard in his mind once more, rest was what they received that night, she got into her flannel pajamas and they went to her room, that's where he said it, a joke that made her laugh most of the night and not stop until he left.

He took a breath and began again. Slowly and surely he remembered more about that night, the morgue, and it's cold and gloomy walls, the smell of decay and discontent, he thought of Liz being in a place like this, the thought burned in his stomach, he tried to stop, but the idea fluttered in the back of his mind.

He was family and so he could see the body. Michael came in with him, he stood behind and offered support. When the doctor lifted the sheet he revealed a body of black flesh. Michael looked away and drew breath hard, trying to keep himself from losing it at the sight of this mutilation. Max did not turn though, he looked in silent empathy for his love. "Liz."

Max stood there long looking and overseeing the body, he fell into a daze some time after, he stood so still, so silent. Not even the sound of breath being drawn from his lungs, all was silent. Michael worried for him, and helped him walk away. It was fright that kept him though, the thought of leaving Liz, again. He had once before, he could not leave her again.

Alone he wept. Michael had asked the docter for some privacy, and now he was all alone. Given the space to cry, the will to cry.

It was an accident, that's what would be put in the police report, a man on the second floor dropped a cigarette and set the building on fire. Liz was on the fifth floor. The fire spread fast, there would have been no way for her to have gotten out. 12 lives were lost last night, including that of Liz Parker, age 25, engaged, favorite color red, with brown hair and brown eyes. But the world didn't know that, only he did, they didn't know her favorite foods, or book, or movie, how she always hated good-byes. How late at night she would hold on to him, and he would keep her safe.

Now she was the one leaving. Something that she promised she would never do. She has done though. Max thought about hating her, but he could not. He thought about pretending that she was still with him, in the car, or just waiting at her apartment for him, but that was to painful as well.