FanFic - Michael/Maria
"Whisper Scream"
Part 7
by Mnemosyne
Disclaimer: If they were mine, I would be the happiest person on earth. But, sadly, they are not mine. I shall have to toil in the mires of life just like everybody else, rejoicing in the good as it comes along.
Summary: Michael is captured, but someone witnesses the kidnapping....from afar.
Category: Michael/Maria
Rating: R
Authors Note: This story has sorta been evolving in my head for over a month now, and I'm not QUITE sure how it's going to go. But hopefully it will satisfy! Dedication: To bec, whose wonderful tale, "Bird in a Gilded Cage," has had me so tied in knots and doubled over into a pained agony of anticipation, that I just HAD to try my own take on the incarceration motif. Thank you, bec! MUSE-ic: Sarah Brightman's "Time to Say Goodbye" CD. Especially "No One Like You."
Chapter 7


"GODDAMIT!" Isabelle sat bolt upright in bed, jaw locked in frustration.

This was ridiculous. Every night for a straight week, she'd tried to infiltrate Maria's dreams. And every night for a straight week she'd been blocked out. "Damn you, Michael Guerin," she growled under her breath. Whatever other properties this psychic link he shared with Maria had, one of them was apparently blocking MARIA'S dreams as well as his own. Each time Isabelle tried to get in, she was met with the same gray wall of nothingness she always encountered with Michael. And it was frustrating as Hell.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood up and headed for her bedroom door. It was three in the morning, but she desperately needed to clear her head. A trip for some water should do that nicely.

As she switched on the faucet and held the tall glass under the cold stream, she thought back over the Hell that the last week had been. It hadn't taken long for them to figure out what had happened to Maria-- the whole situation was so warped, why not? Teleportation didn't sound so farfetched when you were talking about it in the same breath as telepathy and dreamwalking.

Isabelle sighed and switched off the water. Raising the glass, she rolled its coldness across her forehead. Things had spiralled from there. Thanks to some nifty forgery skills, Max had been able to fake a doctor's note to the principal, saying that Maria would be out of school for an unspecified amount of time due to a low-grade flu. Liz had somehow managed to convince Mrs. Deluca that her daughter would be spending a lot of time over the Parker's house, 'Mega-studying for a chemistry exam.' Mrs. Deluca hadn't made a fuss-- apparently, she and Maria had a fairly open mother-daughter relationship. Isabelle snorted-- if SHE had a daughter, she would want to know where the girl was every second of the day. Thank goodness Mrs. Deluca was a bit of a flake.

Lowering the glass to her lips, she took a few deep swallows of the cool water. Thinking about the night she had dreamwalked with Maria still made her shudder. She'd been waiting on the outside of the Emerald City, feeling like a general fifth wheel, when the world had taken a serious turn for the psychotic.

Finishing off the water, she held it under the faucet again and watched it refill. Images of the Emerald City flitted through her head, and she shook herself to try and make them disappear.

The ground had started shaking where she'd stood outside the jeweled walls of the city. Then, it had SHIFTED.

She pulled the glass from under the faucet and took a deep swig as she thought about it. It had been like a great cosmic ballroom dance, as the Emerald City took a lumbering step to the right, then the left. Then, as she'd watched in utter disbelief, the entire thing disappeared. There one minute, gone the next.

The second glass of water was drained now, and Isabelle was toying with the idea of a third. The entire episode had shaken her to the core, and she'd woken up in a cold sweat, to see Max and Liz's anxious faces hovering over her. A quick call to Maria had cinched Isabelle's fear-- she was no longer there. And their job had gotten a hundred times harder.

Deciding against the third glass of water-- and knowing she'd pay for the other two come morning-- Isabelle turned from the sink and headed back to her room. She crawled into bed, and considered trying again to get into Maria's dream. After some thought, she decided against it-- the same brick wall would face her, and she didn't think she could handle that right now. Instead, she snuggled back down into her covers and fell asleep.

So when she woke up the next morning, she was absolutely shocked to discover that she knew exactly what she had to do to get into Maria's dream.

With a yelp of excitement, she flew out of bed and careened towards Max's room, pausing only briefly to make a much needed trip to the bathroom.



Maria lay beside him, as she always did at night, and wondered when her life had moved beyond her control.

The night was silent as she pondered. The only sound was Michael's quiet breathing beside her, and she turned slowly onto her side to watch him sleep. They'd shared the bed since their first night together-- out of some fit of chivalry, he wouldn't allow her to sleep on the floor, and she'd refused to make him sleep there after his...'treatment' by Topolsky.

She shuddered. Thinking about the whip-thin woman with the ice-blonde hair always made her shudder. She could still remember with painful clarity that night a week ago, when he'd been returned to her with electrical burns peppering his back. And the night after that, when he'd come back with a long incision down his chest, from his clavicle to the bottom of his rib cage. An internal examination, apparently. Neither of them had slept that night, as he switched between conciousness and blessed oblivion. Maria hovered over him, trying with her useless words and inadequate tools to ease his pain, as his alien abilities worked overtime to physically heal the damage. And the fear-- the panicked, delirious fear. It had almost drowned her. She had almost been lost. Thank God, no night since then had been so bad.

In fact, today they hadn't even taken him. While it was a welcome break from the endless days of torturous experimentation, the change in routine worried Michael. Maria could feel it, plain as if he'd worn a neon sign that flashed, "I'm worried." //They're planning something,// she thought grimly. //God, what are they planning?// Somehow, she knew it involved her. And that thought scared her more than anything.

Gazing at Michael's peaceful profile, Maria couldn't resist the urge to reach out and brush a few stray strands of hair back from his face. Thank God they were allowed daily showers, or she didn't want to THINK how greasy his spiky hair would have been, let alone what the two of them would smell like right now. She didn't enjoy wearing the thin green scrubs she was given, but at least she got a shirt-- that was more than Michael was allowed.

When she'd met him. That was when her life had careened out of control-- when Michael Guerin and his alien cohorts had swept into her life and turned everything upside down, then flipped it all inside out for good measure. Maria shook her head gently. Because the funny thing was, she didn't really care. For some reason, lying here beside him, feeling his warm body resting along hers... It felt safe. In this prison of knives and fear, and she felt safe as she cuddled close to him. The irony made her want to laugh out loud.

Instead, she closed her eyes and slid nearer to him. He mumbled something in his sleep, and turned onto his side, so that he was face to face with her; but he didn't awaken. Maria watched him for a moment, before closing her own eyes and drifting off to sleep. She toyed with the idea of trying to find his dream again-- she hadn't visited him in the dreamworld since the night of the Emerald City. Tonight, when she felt his dreams might be calmer, she wondered what he might be dreaming about. Perhaps she would try and find out.

She had barely dozed off when the door to their cell slammed open with a resounding CRASH and Topolsky walked in.

Maria sat bolt upright in bed, and felt Michael do the same behind her. "What the hell do you want!?" Michael demanded of the woman at the door.

Topolsky grinned, as if it were perfectly normal for her to be barging in on them at ten minutes after midnight. "You thought I'd forgotten about you, didn't you, kiddies?" she said softly. "I didn't." She snapped her fingers, and the same two burly guards who had dragged Michael to the treadmill a week ago entered the room. This time, instead of going for Michael, one of them crossed the room and grabbed Maria.

"What the--? Let me GO!" she screamed, fighting against his vise-like grip as he dragged her off the bed and across the room to stand beside Topolsky.

"Hey!" Michael bellowed, bolting up off the bed and trying to follow, only to be blocked by the other guard. "Let her go! She doesn't have anything for you!"

Topolsky laughed, a musical sound that was devoid of all sympathy. "I'm afraid I have to disagree, Mr. Guerin," she said, obviously enjoying his frustration at being held back from Maria. "She has something we need very badly." Reaching out to the side, she laid a delicate hand on the squirming girl's abdomen. "She has a womb."

Maria froze. So did Michael. Their eyes met, and in that moment, no bond was necessary to know what the other was feeling.

"We're going to play another game, children," Topolsky was telling them, though neither needed to listen. "It's called Aunty Topolsky Wants a Hybrid."


Maria's mouth had gone instantly dry at Topolsky's words. But she somehow managed to mumble, "W-what?"

Topolsky moved away from her, so that she stood equidistant between her two prisoners. "A hybrid," she said matter-of-factly. "A pairing of two separate species to form--"

"We know what the hell a hybrid is," Michael growled. "What makes you think you're going to get one from us?"

Topolsky quirked an eyebrow at him. "That's simple, Mr. Guerin. You two are going to have intercourse. It's the simplest, cheapest way to get the deed done."

Maria choked on her bone-dry tongue. "W-what?!" That seemed to be the only word she was capable of expressing.

"When you arrived, Ms. Deluca, it was a stroke of luck," Topolsky continued, circling back so that she stood before Maria. "We always knew that we would proceed to this point in the experimentation-- the formation of our very own superhuman. The difficulty was in finding the proper vessel for the gestation." Reaching out, she cupped Maria's cheek. "You weren't our first choice, but never look a gift horse in the mouth, I suppose."

Maria tore her face away from Topolsky's hand. "And what if this 'vessel for the gestation' doesn't want to help you?" she spat venomously.

Topolsky raised another eyebrow, but didn't respond. Instead, she turned and walked across the room to stand beside Michael. Maria felt her stomach start to roil when she saw his back straighten, as he prepared to take whatever punishment the woman might inflict on him. But Topolsky's next words turned the butterflies in Maria's stomach to stone.

"Kill her," she said nonchalantly.

Maria felt one of the guard's hands go from her arm to her throat. The strength in that grip terrified her-- he could so easily snap her neck. "MICHAEL!" she screamed.

"NO!" Michael roared, bolting for her, only to be grabbed by the other guard, and held fast. "NO! MARIA!" He turned wild eyes on Topolsky as Maria felt the hand around her throat begin to tighten. "LET HER GO, YOU BITCH!" he bellowed.

Topolsky paid little attention to his outburst. Instead, she raised her hand and snapped her fingers. Maria felt the hand around her neck stop, but not loosen.

"That's a warning," the agent told them. "If I snap my fingers again, he will break your girlfriend's pretty little neck. But if I clap my hands," she continued, eyeing Michael, "he'll let her go. It's your choice." She shrugged. "After all, there are, on average, three billion of her kind-- that being, female human-- on this world. There are only three TOTAL like you, Mr. Guerin. She is more than expendable. She is a liability if not used for a purpose." She chuckled. "I really think you have no choice."

Maria found Michael's eyes again. The hopelessness coming off him in waves was making her weak in the knees. Slowly, she saw him nod.

Topolsky smiled-- a bright, sunny display of teeth. "Excellent." She clapped her hands, and Maria felt the behemoth behind her loosen his grip and toss her forward. She stumbled across the room, and landed in Michael's arms. He held her tightly as she gasped for air against him, his strong fingers stroking her tousled hair.

The other people in the room were moving now, and Maria made herself look up. The guard who had almost killed her had brought something in from the passageway, and was busy mounting it in the upper corner of the room, across from the bed. When he moved away, Maria saw it was a video camera. "What's that for?" she asked shakily.

"The camera?" Topolsky asked. "Well, we MUST have documented evidence of an alien mating ritual. If he starts sprouting horns or turning green, we have to know. The powers-that-be agreed to pay for this little expense." The other guard was running wires from the camera along the edge of the ceiling, heading for the door, supposedly to meet up with some AV jack in the hallway. When he was done, Topolsky nodded to him, and the two guards left to stand just outside the door.

The agent followed close behind, stopping only briefly to turn back to where Michael and Maria stood in one another's embrace. "Have fun, children," she told them. "You've had plenty of time to get to know each other-- I'm sure you can make this experiment an...enjoyable experience." With that, she walked out, and the door slammed behind her, as it always did. Somehow, it sounded more final this time.


Maria couldn't believe what had just transpired. The entire episode had taken less than ten minutes-- it wasn't even half-past midnight yet, according to the caged clock on the wall by the door. But her purpose in life had just been dictated to her, and she was a few short steps away from becoming a mother. The enormity of the situation made her shiver.

"Are you cold?" she heard Michael ask, as he tightened his arms around her.

She shook her head. "No. Just...sorta in shock, I guess."

He nodded against her hair. "I know. Me, too."

They stood in silence for a minute.

"I'm so sorry, Maria," Michael finally said in a tight voice. "God, I'm so sorry--"

"Shhh," she cut him off, pulling back ever so slightly so that she could look up into his eyes. He looked so hurt. "It's not so bad," she reassured him, trying to keep the trembling of her muscles to a minimum. His guilt was weighing on her shoulders like a cinderblock. "Think of it as a continuation of what we started at the Crashdown."

Michael didn't respond. Instead, he raised a hand from her back and tenderly brushed it across her neck. "He hurt you," he said softly, as he touched the red marks left by the guard's fingers.

Maria tilted her head back as his fingers stroked the flesh of her throat, letting her eyes drift closed. "No," she told him, surprised by the breathless tone of her voice. "Not really. Just..." She trailed off as she felt his fingers move away, to be replaced by his lips.

A little moan of pleasure escaped her as his mouth quested gently over her throat, from her jaw, to her jugular, then up to her earlobe. "I wish it didn't have to happen like this," he whispered to her.

Maria fought back his guilt, and tried to assure him without words, as she sent him her own emotions-- desire, pleasure, surprise. She threw everything she was experiencing at him, and prayed that, just this once, he'd feel her as deeply as she felt him.

"Let's go to bed," she whispered back to him, moving her head so that her forehead rested against his.

He didn't speak, but she felt his strong arms loop around her back and under her knees. He picked her up, as if she weighed nothing at all, and carried her the few brief steps to the thin mattress behind them. Her lips found his as he tenderly laid her on the bed, as if she were delicate crystal that needed to be handled with care, or she would break.

"Make love to me, Michael," she murmured against his lips, as he stretched out above her. "If you do that, then WE win. Not them."

Michael quirked a smile, and kissed her again. Deeper this time. So...much...deeper...

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