Liz Parker's fingers were numb as she lifted the receiver of the payphone. She saw her hand drop a dime, then a quarter, into the slot; heard the change jangle down the track. But it all seemed far away, as if it were happening in a dream.

Her fingers punched the numbers by rote, knowledge burned into her mind by years of repitition. The line jangled, and was picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?" Mrs. Deluca's voice was shaky, and Liz knew she hadn't slept. Liz took a deep breath.

"Something happened," she said.

******

Maria couldn't breathe.

This was all too much. She tried to suck in air, but the sobs that shook her shoulders and racked her lungs wouldn't permit her. She gasped between each shuddering sob.

He was gone. Her Michael was dead.

Maria kept his hand pressed against her stomach, unwilling to break that final contact. Then she would have to admit he really was gone. She didn't think she could handle that.

"Michael," she gasped. "Michael!"

Her body bent in two around his hand, the lack of air causing lance after burning lance of pain to rip across her stomach. She rocked back and forth, sobbing even though her tears had long since run dry. His peaceful profile must have looked so odd, juxtaposed against her wild eyes and red cheeks.

"I can't lose you, Michael," she moaned. "God, not again. I can't lose you again!"

Maria barely noticed the tingling sensation against her belly; her pain, physical and emotional, were too great. They blocked out the world.

But soon, she DID become aware of it.

Her eyes, squeezed shut in an effort to block out some part of the pain, snapped open. "What-?" she breathed as she looked down towards her stomach, where his palm still pressed against her through the thin, greenish cloth of her hospital gown.

Michael's hand was glowing.

That same white, heavenly light she remembered from her dreamscape. It pulsed against her abdomen, rising and ebbing with her heartbeat.

Wait a minute. HER heartbeat?

That was when she noticed, Michael wasn't the one glowing. She was.

The light grew brighter, stretching out tendrils that curled up and around Michael's wrist. Maria watched in wonder as the energy emanating from her belly wrapped its way in ever quickening circles around Michael's arm, moving up to his shoulder, and then down his torso, until he was surrounded in a pure glowing nimbus that cast no shadow because it was everywhere.

How could this be happening? Maria's fingers clenched Michael's hand to her with a death-grip, afraid that letting him go would break the spell. Her eyes travelled in amazement from his face, to her stomach, and back again. She felt no different, no weaker. How could this-?

Lightning struck.

The baby.

"Healthy and kicking, isn't that what Michael said?" she thought, excited. "The doctors said it was a miracle, didn't they? That the baby could be this strong?"

The baby HAD been strong. In giving of his strength, Michael had simply made it stronger. And now, it was repaying the favor the only way it could.

By saving the life that had given IT life. Maria's eyes couldn't grow any wider, but her smile made up for it, as the light around her lover grew brighter and brighter still. It's pulsing was more extreme now, fluxing from blinding, to dim, to blinding. She forced herself not to flinch away as its pulsing grew faster and faster and faster.....

There was an explosion of painfully bright light. Maria threw a hand up to shield her eyes from the blast, reeling backwards as though there were an actual concussion.

Then, there was nothing.

She lowered her hand slowly, unsure of what to expect. She half imagined Michael would be little more than a pile of ash. But he wasn't. And he still wasn't moving. The small kernel of hope she'd started to nurture began to wilt again.

Until Michael's eyes snapped open, his back arched away from the floor, and he sucked in a gasping, gargling breath.

Maria's eyes widened again as Michael collapsed back to the speckled tile, wheezing for air, chest rising and falling with his explosive breaths. She almost couldn't believe her own eyes. He was...

He was ALIVE.

His eyes were closed, so he couldn't see her hand as it reached out to touch his cheek. "Michael?" she whispered, new tears, this time of joy, in her eyes. Her free hand went to her throat-- the child in her stomach had given her a gift, too. Her voice no longer rasped.

When his lids flickered open, Maria's breathing sped up. When he smiled, it stopped all together.

"Hello, Maria," he murmured. "This is unexpected."

She gazed down at him for a moment, and he returned the look.

Then he was sitting up, and her arms were wrapping around him, and his around her, and he was ALIVE, oh GOD, he was ALIVE!

"You're back," she cried against his shoulder, holding him so tightly, her arms ached. "Oh, God, Michael, I thought you'd left me! I thought you'd left me again!"

Michael's arms twined tighter around her waist, making it harder for her to breathe, but she didn't care. She wanted to drown in him. "How?" he murmured into her hair. "How...did it happen?"

She somehow managed to pull back from him without losing contact, her forehead pressing against his. Smiling, she took his hand and moved it back to her stomach.

He looked puzzled for a second, then realization dawned. "You mean...?"

Maria nodded. "They said the baby was strong," she whispered against his lips. "If only they knew."

He smiled, and it felt good against her mouth. Kissable. So she kissed him. And it felt even better.

******

It was the shocked gasp from the doorway that finally pulled them apart.

Maria jerked back from Michael, and looked towards the sound. Liz stood framed in the doorway, frozen, one hand on the doorknob. Her eyes were wide, and her jaw hung slack. "Michael?" she gasped in disbelief.

He raised one hand and twitched it at her. "Hi, Liz."

Her eyes moved to Maria. "Maria?"

She grinned at her friend. "Hi, Liz."

The dark-haired girl gaped at them for a little longer, then shook herself and moved into the room. "But....but...." she stammered.

"It's a long story," Maria explained. "I'll tell you later."

"Maria?"

Her eyes went back to the door, and her smile lit up again. "MOM!"

Mrs. Deluca flew through the door-- Alex immediately behind her-- and wrapped her daughter in a hug, tears streaming down her cheeks. "My baby," she gasped. "My little girl, you're all right! You're awake!"

Maria was finding it even harder to breathe, being squeezed one way by Michael, and the other by her mother. But she never wanted it to end. "I'm okay, Mom," she told her, eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"No, no, don't think about that," her mother chided quietly. "What matters is you're okay. Oh, sweetie, thank God!"

When they finally drew apart, reluctantly, Maria felt Michael begin to move behind her. Before she could ask what he was doing, she felt his arms wrap around her back and under her knees, and felt him swoop her up off the floor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, eyes wide with surprise. "Where are we going?" she asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. "YOU are going back to bed," he told her, setting her down tenderly on the tousled mattress. Pulling the covers up to her waist, he fluffed the pillows behind her back, and pushed her back so that she rested against them. Maria just watched him adoringly-- she couldn't drink in the sight of him enough.

"Comfortable?" he asked softly. Maria nodded, and he bent down to touch his lips gently to her forehead.

Then he turned to stand face to face with her mother.

Maria swallowed. She knew the look on her mother's face. It was the personification of Hell hath no fury. She winced when the older woman lashed out and smacked Michael full-force across the face. "Mom..." she protested, leaning forward.

Michael made no noise as Mrs. Deluca's palm made contact with his cheek. His head snapped to the side, but he didn't so much as flinch.

"You hurt my baby," Mrs. Deluca told him firmly, her eyes flashing. "You will NEVER do that again."

Michael's face turned towards the older woman, and he met her eyes. "Never, ma'am," he replied.

Her face softened. A short pause followed, and then Maria allowed herself a breath of relief as her mother wrapped Michael in a tight embrace. "And thank you," Mrs. Deluca whispered, tears in her voice, "for saving my little girl."

Maria felt her heart warm as Michael returned the hug. "Thank YOU," he replied. "For giving me the little girl to save."

Maria watched the scene unfold, unable to keep the pleased smile off her face. But she didn't have much time for quiet reflection, as she soon found herself wrapped in a two way embrace again. This time, Liz and Alex. She tried her hardest to stretch her arms around them and hug back.

It was then that Dr. Peters chose to walk through the door. Her eyes were met with one of the strangest, if sweetest, sights she'd ever witnessed in her twenty years of practice. A strange young man in black clothing was hugging the mother of one of her patients, who suddenly seemed to no longer be ill, as she was sitting up in bed, having the stuffing hugged out of her by those two nice young people who had accompanied Mrs. Deluca to the hospital in the first place.

Dr. Peters cleared her throat, and all eyes turned to her.

"Excuse me," she said, "but I KNOW I've missed something. Would someone care to explain?"

******