Michael decides to take a stroll at the park. The park looks peaceful. After three nights, he wants some peace.

Alex is there, playing dodgeball with some kids. “Uh, hey, Michael,” Alex calls out as he sees Michael. Michael turns around and walks the other way. He doesn’t want to deal with anyone. Alex catches up to him. “So … uh, you up for some dodgeball?” Alex cheesily invites him. “No thanks!” Michael responds.

“Listen, uh, Maria’s coming back tomorrow. Just thought you should know,” Alex informs him. “Yeah,” Michael says off the cuff.

“Maybe you could go see her,” Alex suggests. “Maybe bring some aromatherapy candles? She loves that stuff,” he adds. “What are you talking about?” Alex Whitman was giving him advice?

“Forget it!” Alex dismisses. After a pause, he tells Michael, “You don’t look too good. Cedar oil should do the trick.” At Michael’s glance, Alex quips, “Just trying to help. I know things haven’t been that good lately.”

Michael huffs out a you-said-it breath. “Okay, back to dodgeball! Gotta keep my cousin’s kids jumping! You’re welcome to join us anytime!” Even though Alex didn’t really Michael playing his favorite “sport” anytime soon.

“I know things haven’t been that good lately,” Alex’s remark plays in Michael’s head. That was the understatement of the year.

Michael sits a park bench at a secluded corner. Maria. She would be back. Michael closes his eyes. He would see her again. A part of him leaps at the thought. But his joy quickly dissipates as he realizes nothing has really changed. His “gifts” are still a sore spot. No way in hell he would put her in harm’s way because of his lack of control over his newfound powers. No way in hell. He’d die first. Not that she understands that, Michael thinks to himself.

Night falls and Michael is still sitting on the bench, staring up at the stars. Footsteps crunching the grass alert him to the presence of someone else nearby. He looks up and sees Sheriff Valenti striding towards him.

“Kinda late to be out, aren’t you?” the sheriff asks him. “I was just leaving,” Michael tells him as he stands up. He happens to glance at the gun tucked in the Valenti’s holster. Flashes of that night assault him again.

Valenti notices a grimace crossing Michael’s face. Then he sees where Michael’s gaze lay. The sheriff shifts his holster. “You know son, what you did back there was a brave thing.” “Brave?” Michael thinks brave was the last thing the sheriff would say about his actions. “You saved me. And Max. You put yourself on the line of fire.”

Michael shakes his head in disagreement. “Look, bottom line is, if you hadn’t stopped Pierce, Max or I would be dead by now. Maybe even Isabel. And the rest of your friends. Think about it. The Evans, DeLucas and the Whitmans would have possibly lost their children. Their sixteen-year-old, innocent children. It wouldn’t have just been your friends that suffered, it would have been their families too. You didn’t mean to kill him. But he meant to kill us. He was serious about it.”

The sheriff sees Michael’s eyes start to lighten and then fade again. “Think about it,” Valenti pauses, then adds, “C’mon, I’ll give you a lift home.”

Michael walks into his house lost in thought. Valenti’s words worm into his head again. “It would have been their families too.” That statement chips away at the guilt he had been feeling ever since that day in the UFO Center. His tired eyes stray to the bed. With grim determination, he looks upon it and decides to confront Pierce, whenever he showed in his dreams again.

Like clockwork, Pierce makes an appearance. This time, they’re both smack dab in the middle of the UFO Center. “Look familiar?” Pierce points to figures standing at the other end of the room. “It’s the scene of the crime!” Pierce taunts Michael. Suddenly Pierce whips out a gun, the sheriff’s gun, and fires at Valenti. Michael watches as Valenti falls to the floor in slow motion. Max goes over to help the sheriff but Pierce shoots him in the back. Blood splatters Max’s back and he collapses face down. Liz screams and runs toward Max. Her steps falter then stop as Pierce takes her out with a shot. Isabel rushes over to help and Pierce aims at her next. She drops to the floor with a thud, a gaping hole in the chest. Maria calls out, “Mic-“ but doesn’t finish as a bullet lodges in her. Pierce slowly fires at the rest. They all fall … dead. “Nooooooooo!” Michael screams at Pierce.

“I’m not going to let this happen!” Michael yells. The scene shifts back to the beginning of the dream. “You can’t stop me!” Pierce challenges him. “I’ll just have to do it all over again,” Pierce aims the gun at the seven figures. Fear clutches Michael’s throat. “The hell you are!” he yells at his enemy.

Michael opens his hand, focusing slightly to bring his power under control. Concentrate, he tells himself as he aims a flash of light at Pierce. A blinding light propels Pierce backwards. He collapses. Valenti gets up from the floor where he had dragged the teenagers down to safety. He checks on Pierce. “He’s dead.” The sheriff pauses. “He points to a large projector lying nearby. He hits his head hard on the projector. It took him out.” Michael blinks. “You didn’t kill Michael. He killed himself,” the sheriff tells him.