He put a hand on the tile to steady himself. God, he felt so weak. He had no idea of how long he'd been lying in that bed, reaching out for Isabel. If he could just get a glimpse of her, if he could just know she was still alive. Why couldn't he sense her any more?

"Isabel," he whispered in despair.

Whatever It was that had her, It had been trying since they were children to get her. It had started with Max's dreams as soon as he'd reached earth. Max could remember that now, that the dreams that had sent him scurrying to Isabel in the middle of the night when they were little were the same dreams that had got her in the end. For some reason It couldn't break into Isabel's dreams. She must've been too strong, must've been able to sense It.

So It had used Max. Lured Isabel into Max's subconscious and then whisked her away. Max drew in a shaky breath. It was ironic - the person sent to protect her and blessed with cunning had been her downfall.

Max turned off the shower and wiped the water out of his hair with his hand. He lethargically took the towel from the hook and carelessly spot-dried his wash board stomach. Stepping out of the shower, he pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt that Liz had found for him.

When he stepped from his bathroom, Max was greeted with the smell of something cooking. His empty stomach contracted, and he realized for the first time that he was hungrier than he could imagine.

In the kitchen, Max found Liz standing before the stove, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich. She turned when he entered the room.

"Hey," she smiled at him as he slid into one of the chairs in the breakfast nook. "When I was a little girl," she said, returning to the griddle, "I had this really rotten day. I went to school and got teased for - well, I don't remember what I was teased for, but I was teased. Anyway, then I got home, and when I stepped off the bus I tripped on the last step and landed in a huge puddle at the end of the drive. I was wet from head to toe."

Liz moved to the table and put a bowl of tomato soup before Max. She placed another on the table for herself. "When I got in the house, my mom took one look at me and made me grilled cheese and tomato soup." She shook some Tabasco into Max's soup, shrugged and shook just a dab into hers. "Ever since then, this is my favorite comfort food."

Max watched her walk back to the stove and bring back the sandwiches. She hadn't intended on eating - it was very late at night and she wasn't hungry - but she didn't want him to feel like she was watching every bite he took.

"Thank you." He said, suddenly ashamed of the circumstances and her generosity in spite of them. She was standing beside him, but he couldn't look at her.

"You're welcome, Max," she replied softly. After a brief pause, she slid into the chair adjacent to him. "You'd better eat that before it gets cold."

Max picked at the sandwich, taking small bites. It tasted good, but he knew if he ate too fast he wouldn't be able to keep it in his stomach. Liz ate slowly, too, trying to match his pace. She talked about little things, and Max appreciated her attempt to keep the conversation light. Bad things were ahead, and she realized that he needed a rest, the comfort her chit-chat brought.

When Max had reached the bottom of the soup bowl, Liz reached for it. "More?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Max shook his head. "No, thank you. Believe it or not I feel stuffed."

Liz nodded. He'd done well, letting her help him. She wouldn't tell him that; he couldn't bear for her to be condescending or patronizing.

Their eyes locked for a long moment, then Liz finally spoke. "You said you were human, Max."

Max didn't break their gaze. "Yeah, I did. Yeah, I am."

"How can that be?" Liz felt a lump form in her throat. This is what she wanted more than anything. To actually hear it was all she ever wanted.

"I told you I was, well, created." Created sounded better than the alternatives - manufactured, engineered, planned. "Biologically I am 100% human. Human DNA, human physiology. The intent was that the three of us would live on earth. As humans. We were never meant to return to our home, Liz. This is our home."

Liz let this sink in, then felt brave enough to ask her question. "Is that why Michael and Maria were able to, well, you know - be intimate without either of them getting sick?

"I think so." Max watched her changing expression. There it was again - hope.

Liz bit her bottom lip. "Does that mean that you and I could...."

"Yeah, I think so...."

Liz sat back, her hand going to her mouth. She tried to stop the tears that came rushing to her eyes, but they flooded onto her cheeks anyway. Max was reaching for her, but she didn't trust herself to let him touch her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, leaning across the table toward her.

She nodded, wiping her cheeks. "Oh, God, Max, I am so sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen. I - I didn't think I'd react that way."

He chuckled gently. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay, Max. Don't you see - this is all I've...." her voice trailed off as she realized she was about to bare her soul to him. She didn't care. "This is all I've ever wanted."

Max was speechless. It was all he'd ever wanted, too. Cautiously, he touched the side of her face. She stifled a groan at his touch. As he moved his hand to her temple, the connection was instantaneous. The wave of love that pounded him nearly knocked him back in his chair. He gasped at its ferocity.