"How, Michael?" Maria asked, eyes wide. "We can't just bust a hole through a wall and march out of here. This is....Well, I don't know where this is. But it has no doors, no windows....How are we going to get out?"

Michael stood slowly and helped her to her feet. "This isn't real, Maria," he told her. "This-- all of this," he made a sweeping gesture to encompass her Dreamscape, "it's all in your mind. We just have to punch through to the surface."

"I ask again-- how?"

"It should be simple enough," he continued, and she could tell he was deliberately hedging. "Don't you worry."

"Michael-- HOW?"

He wouldn't meet her gaze. That was not good. Michael would only avoid her eyes when he wanted to keep something from her. And there could be no secrets between them now.

Reaching out, she tilted his chin so that he looked into her eyes. "Michael, what aren't you telling me?" she demanded.

He shook his head, pulling his chin from her grasp. "Nothing. Really, Maria, I'm telling you everything."

He was lying. It was plain as day. But he was also being stubborn, and when Michael Guerin dug in his heels, nothing short of an act of God could dislodge him. Maria grunted, but she didn't press the issue.

"All right, spaceboy," she said. "Then what do we do?"

Michael's face changed then. Softened. He reached out a hand and pulled her closer to him, so that her chest pressed against his, and she looked up into his warm hazel eyes. "You don't have to do anything," he whispered. "I'll do all the work."

"But, Michael-" He cut her off with a kiss so tender, yet so powerful, everything else disappeared. Her hands snaked up behind his neck, and held him tightly against her lips.

Soon, she felt her limbs begin to tingle. Her torso soon followed, then her hips. Eventually, she began to feel light-headed, drifting and spacey. She thought it was simply lack of air....

Until he pulled back, and she realized she was glowing.

Well, not just her. To be more specific, EVERYTHING seemed to be glowing. A bright, ecclesiastic white that sang of angels. Maria's eyes widened. "Michael?"

He smiled at her. "You need strength," he told her. Passing his hand in front of her eyes, she saw that it was glowing. "I have strength." He placed the hand on her shoulder, and slowly, so slowly, caressed his way down her arm, slipped onto her hip, and moved up again along her side. As his hand passed over her body, she felt that same tingling follow in its wake. "Now my strength," he whispered, "is your strength."

Maria wanted to speak, to tell him something, but her throat wouldn't work. She let her head loll back as his hands moved over her, touching her everywhere, the pure white light that was his essence soaking into her, infusing her.

She could sense things now she never could before.

The criss-cross patterns of the veins behind her eyelids.

The warm, loving thoughts Michael wafted to her through the light that surrounded her-- "My Maria, my only Maria, My sweet and spicy Maria..." Over and over, so that her heart felt like it would burst.

And perhaps sweetest of all, she could feel her baby-- the tiny spark of life in her stomach that she had created with Michael. The continuation of them. The physical representation of something Maria couldn't begin to express. This was more than just love. This was devotion to its utmost reach.

Her knees were growing weak-- she felt them start to buckle. But Michael was there, and he caught her, lowering her slowly to the floor. Maria opened her eyes, and gazed at him in adoration. He looked like a Grecian God-- an earthbound Apollo-- backlit and shimmering. "Michael," she murmured.

He ran his hand down her throat, over her breasts, then across her stomach, where he paused. His eyes grew wide with wonder, and he looked back to her. "I can feel our baby," he breathed.

She smiled, and crossed her hands over his. "So can I," she whispered.

The tingling was stronger now-- so intense, she thought she was going to explode with the sensation. "Michael," she moaned again, arching up a little as his hands worked double duty, caressing up her legs, over her upper thighs, then back down between to her knees. Then up again. Up and up...

"Wake up now," he said softly, and her eyes snapped open.

"What?"

His smile was small, and sad. Why was his smile sad? "You should be strong enough to wake up now," he explained. "I've given you all I can."

Maria was suddenly scared. She didn't know what was waiting for her on the other side of that uncrossable boundary. "I don't want to go alone," she murmured.

Michael stretched out beside her, cradling her in his arms. "You won't go alone," he told her. "I'm right here with you. All you have to do...is open your eyes."

"They are open."

"I mean your REAL eyes."

She nodded, understanding. Taking a deep breath, she started to push her way up to conciousness.

But Michael's voice stopped her. "Maria?"

She looked at him, questioning. "Yes, Michael?"

"I love you."

It was said so simply. No fuss. No moonlight and roses and satin boxes of designer bon-bons. Just the truth. Nothing had ever sounded so sweet.

She smiled. "I love you, too." And she meant it.

Michael pulled her close. "Now open your eyes."

And she did.

******

Liz watched the couple on the bed anxiously. It had been a good thirty minutes since Michael had stretched out to lay beside her best friend, and there hadn't been so much as a twitch from either of them since. Not that she expected anything from Maria just yet-- though she could always hope. But it would have been nice to see some indication that Michael was succeeding in his goal.

"Come on, Michael," she muttered. "Give me a-"

She was cut off as Maria's back suddenly arched away from the bed and she pulled in a deep, shuddering breath. A split second later, Michael followed suit, sitting up beside the blonde and gasping for air as Maria panted below him.

Liz was stunned. She'd expected something, but even now, it was so hard to believe.... "Maria?" she said softly.

Her best friend was looking up at the ceiling, disoriented. But her head turned enough that she could look at Liz, where she sat in her customary chair in the corner. "Liz?" Maria croaked, her voice raspy and soft from disuse.

The dark-haired girl let out a whoop of joy, and she leapt to her feet. Dashing around the bed to get to Maria's free side, she hugged the girl close, eyes tearing. "Maria! God, you're AWAKE. Finally, you're awake!"

Maria's arms slipped around Liz's waist, and hugged her back. "I'm sorry I worried you, Liz," she rasped. "I didn't mean to."

Liz pulled back and looked down at her friend. "Don't you DARE apologize," she scolded. "All that matters is that you're back with us, safe and sound. And you're going to get better now." Her eyes slid up from Maria's face, and fell on Michael, who still sat beside the slim girl in the hospital bed. "Thank you," Liz said sincerely. "I mean that."

Michael nodded. He looked pale and drawn-- whatever he had done to bring Maria back must have been an ordeal. But his eyes were shining.

Maria turned away from Liz and gazed up at her knight-gallant. No words were spoken between the two, but simultaneously, their hands reached out and their fingers twined together. Liz watched the lovers silently, allowing them their privacy.

"You saved my life," Maria murmured, a hoarse whisper all her voice could manage.

Michael smiled down at her. "You think I'd let my best girl go?" he asked her softly.

Maria smiled. "Am I really you're best girl?" She was blushing, the pink flush giving her cheeks the first real color they'd had in over a week.

He nodded. "You're my ONLY girl," he told her.

She raised her lips for a kiss, which Michael willingly bestowed. Liz felt slightly envious of her best friend. "If only Max were here right now."

When the two came apart, they gazed adoringly into one another's eyes.

Then, Michael said something strange.

"Goodbye, Maria," he murmured.

She looked at him strangely. "What?" she whispered.

Before he could answer, the alien teetered on the bed. Maria tried to grab hold of him, but before she could, he fell over the edge, landing on his back in a limp heap on the floor.

******

"Michael!" Maria screamed, though her voice couldn't go higher than a whisper. She struggled against the white linens that held her back as she edged her way across the bed to the side where he lay.

Liz was already at Michael's side, and Maria envied her mobility. She wasn't ready to handle this weakened self she'd suddenly been thrust back into. In her dreamworld, she'd been as strong as the first day Liz had told her Max Evans was an alien. Now, she felt exhausted just rolling over. "Michael?" she rasped.

Liz had her fingers to the pulse point on Michael's neck. When she looked up, Maria did not like the fear in her eyes. "His heart rate is slowing down," the dark-haired girl told her. "Maria, I think..." Liz swallowed, and started again. "Maria, I think he's dying."