Now my curtain has been drawn
And my heart can go
Where my heart does belong
I'm going home

Isabel pulled her knees up to her chest. She couldn't see It, but she knew It was there. She could feel every one of Its vile thoughts, all of Its intentions for her.

God,where am I? she thought. Max. Max, please hear me.

Why couldn't she hear Max? Some times she heard things from Max that she hadn't even tried to hear. One night in particular, she'd heard every one of his logical thoughts as he'd done his geometry homework. It had driven her insane - she'd tried everything to tune him out, turning on the radio, covering her head with a pillow, attempting to do her own homework. Nothing had helped. Now she wished she could hear something about right triangles, Max's little arguments with himself as he reasoned the problem. Where was he?

Something moved off to Isabel's right and she cringed further into the corner she'd tucked herself in. It was staying just out of her view. But she knew at any moment It would rush at her, invading her mind, raping her mentally. Her bottom lip quivered at the thought. The last time It had used her, she'd been flooded with all of the hatred stored within It. The evil had washed over her like a rash, clenched itself around her heart and squeezed. With it came threats - she had to do what It wanted. If she didn't, Max was first, then Michael, then any number of the people she cared about. She had seen their deaths - not quick, not painless. Grueling, painful, slow deaths.

Then it happened. For just the briefest of moments, she got a flash of Max, water splashing over his handsome face. He whispered her name - just like in her dream. With the name came a rush of the love he felt for her, his grief over losing her.

It didn't like that. It bounded out of the dark, and as Isabel screamed It sunk Its claws into her temples.

Liz gently caressed Max's bare chest. They were lying on top of the blankets, staring at the ceiling. Max had his arms around Liz, and she had a leg over his hip. He placed a kiss on the top of her head, amazed at the feel of her skin touching him from head to toe.

Max caught his breath, then sat up on one elbow so he could look into her face. "Are you okay?" he asked, knowing it had been her first time.

Liz nodded, trying to catch her own breath.

"Did I hurt you?"

She looked into his eyes, a smile spreading across her face. "Never."

Max touched her temple and felt a small burst of discomfort from her. "You know you can't lie to me," he teased.

She blushed a little, then conceded. "Okay, I'm a little sore," she admitted.

Max placed his large hand on her bare stomach. A faint glow appeared beneath his palm, and suddenly Liz was pain free.

"Wow, do I know how to pick my lovers."

Max laughed and kissed her forehead. He couldn't believe he was here, in his bed, with Liz. How many nights had he dreamed of this very thing? He tightened his grip around her, pulling her head into his chest. He didn't want this night to end, didn't want to let her go.

Liz could hear the steady beat of his heart under her ear, feel his pulse against her cheek. She pulled him closer too, not able to get enough of him. If she could, she would crawl inside of him. She felt complete.

"I love you, Max."

The words had barely left her lips when she felt the room start to spin. She could no longer hear Max's heart - she couldn't hear anything but an agonized scream. It ripped through her head, pulling at her senses and rocketing her away from Max. She felt herself flailing for control, then her own mouth opened in an endless scream.

"LIZ!!!"

Liz opened her eyes to see Max holding her by the arms. She was still screaming. The scream faded away, and panting, her eyes darted around the room.

"Liz, what happened?"

"Oh, my God, Max. I saw her!"

"You saw who?" Max demanded, trying to get her to look at him.

Liz saw that there was no one in the room but them, and turned to him. "I saw Isabel."

Michael was pacing in the Evans' living room. He raked a hand through his wild hair, paced, sat, stood, paced some more.

Maria was sitting by the fireplace. The circumstances that had been relayed to her by Michael on the drive over had sapped her of any conversation. She had a definite deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

Liz and Max were on the couch. Max's arm was around Liz's shoulders. She'd been a little shaky since the vision, and he was trying his best to comfort her. He had visions all the time; he'd learned to accept them as a gift. But to someone who was unaccustomed, he understood it could be frightening.

Michael stopped his carpet walk and gestured toward Liz. "Are you sure it was her?"

Liz nodded.

"How do you know?" Michael spat

"Michael - " Max started to stop his attack.

"No way, Maxwell. How do we know what Liz saw was real? She's not even an alien, Max."

Neither are we, Max thought, glancing at Liz. "I trust what she says," he said simply.

"Maybe you were just thinking about her, you know," Michael rationalized. "Maybe you only imagined it."

Liz shook her head.

Max jumped to her defense again. "She knows what she saw."

"But why did she see it? You're her brother. I'm her - friend. We're the same, the three of us. Why would Liz be able to connect with Izzy and not us?"

Max realized that it wasn't fear or mistrust that was driving Michael's words - it was hurt. He was hurt that he hadn't been the one to find her, that an outsider had been able to do what he couldn't.

"I think maybe she got the image from me," Max ventured.

"It was her," Liz said weakly.

Max glanced at her, then rubbed her shoulder in reassurance.

Michael let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, just for the sake of conversation, let's say it was her. How did you manage to get to her, Liz? What were you doing at the time?"

Max and Liz exchanged a quick glance, both of them looking shocked and guilty.

"Uh...." Max started.

Michael held up his hands, palms up. "Well?"

Liz blushed and looked to the floor. Max's mouth was open and his lips were moving, but nothing was coming out.

"Oh, my God."

Everyone turned to look at Maria, who had arisen from the hearth. "You didn't!" she shrieked.

Liz turned redder and Max finally stopped stammering. "Well, yeah...."

Michael whirled from Maria to Max, his mouth open in amazement. Then his eyes narrowed. For years, Max had preached about sleeping with earth girls, had told Michael to wear a suit of armor if he even thought about touching Maria. And now - this? Something wasn't right.

"So you two were twisted into a pretzel when this happened?" he asked, his eyes boring holes into Max, who shifted uncomfortably.

"Yeah."

Michael looked at Liz. He wanted to hate her at this moment, because he knew that she was clued into whatever was going on. "Well, when I asked you to help with Max, I hadn't intended on you seducing him."

Liz hung her head even farther and there was silence in the room. Maria moved over and put a hand on Liz's arm.

Michael heaved a sigh and rubbed his eyes. The way he was treating her wasn't fair. He couldn't use his anger and sense of betrayal at Max to hurt Liz.

"Liz, I'm sorry," he said. He knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. It occurred to him that they had formed a circle - all four of them touching in some way. "We just really need to know what you did so we can get her back. I'm sorry if I snapped at you." He glanced up at Max. "And I'm sorry to you, too, Max. You deserve to be happy."

Max nodded his acceptance.

Michael looked back to Liz. "Now, Liz. Right before you got the flash from Isabel, what did you do?"

Liz thought for a moment, trying to remember. She was lying in Max's arms, listening to his heart - her body ached to be back there at that moment, alone with him, comforted by his presence surrounding her. She looked up into Michael's eyes.