FanFic - Max/Liz
Part 4
by Miranda
Disclaimer: I have no affiliation with the WB, Jason Katims or Melinda Metz.
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: PG-13
Authors Note: This was written during season 1, so there are no references to Tess or other aliens.
The sound of the breaking glass was followed by a deathly silence. Liz stared at the ceiling in the darkened bedroom, ears straining for any sound.


After an interminable time she heard him stir.

Broken glass being swept into a pile, pushed onto the dustpan. The creak of the cupboard door below the sink as it swung open. The crackle of the grocery bag they used for their garbage followed by the glass clinking together as it slid from the pan into the bag. The gentle bump of the cupboard door as it closed. A soft release of suction as the refrigerator door opened. The rattle of the lid being put on the kettle, the harsh grating noise as it slid across the rack in the refrigerator. The refrigerator door closing. A deep sigh. A whoosh of air expelled from the sofa. More silence.


Liz craned her neck, focusing on the glowing numbers of her alarm clock. 11:30. Max had been sitting in the dark living room for hours, not watching the TV, not making a sound.

She was cold, so very cold. The blankets did nothing to keep out the chill. She wanted him. Wanted him to slide between the cool sheets and wrap his arms around her, press his lips in her hair, quietly murmur that everything would be all right, that they would find a way, just like they always did. Wanted him to slide his fingers down her throat, his mouth following close behind. Wanted him to caress her, make love to her. She just wanted to go back to the way things used to be.

She didn’t know what time it was when he finally came in. She forced her breathing to remain regular and kept her eyes lightly closed. He undressed quietly and eased under the blankets next to her, trying so hard to not disturb her. He lay perfectly still for a long time. Then he shifted a little closer and tentatively pressed one hand against her stomach. He stroked her gently, using soothing, swirling motions.

Liz fought the urge to smile. She didn’t want him to know she was awake. The fear and dread she had felt since that afternoon started to dissipate. Max still loved her. He loved their baby. She had just taken him by surprise earlier. It was the shock that had made him react that way. It was her own fault; she shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that, especially when they were already on the verge of an argument. But everything would be all right now. Maybe she should skip her morning class, convince him to take the morning off too. They could have a nice breakfast together, maybe in bed. They hadn’t done that for a long time.

Max shifted a little lower in the bed, shaking Liz from her reverie. She started to lift her hand from where it lay on her pillow, wanting to smooth back his hair so she could see his face.

He touched her stomach again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking with pain.

Her hand stilled, hovering an inch off the pillow, as he spoke again. “I’m so sorry, my little one… but I’ll always love you.”


They had spoken barely two words to one another in the morning. She had gone about her usual routine: shower, toast and coffee while she caught the morning news. But there had been no morning hug, no morning kiss, no conversation. He had stopped her as she was going out the door.

“See you tonight.”

She had frozen, one hand clutching the doorknob, squeezing it until her knuckles were white. But he hadn’t seen that, she had been blocking his view.

“Bye,” she had replied.

And now she was sitting in the parking lot of the building across the street, waiting for him to go to work. She shifted in her seat as he left their building. He got in his car, never even looking in her direction, and drove off.


Liz stood in the doorway of their apartment. It seemed… lifeless… as though no one had lived there for a long time. It hadn’t even been one day since she had known, but her life – their lives – were gone.

She tossed her backpack onto the sofa without a glance and headed to the bedroom. She pulled a duffel bag from under the bed and mindlessly stuffed clothes into it. Not paying attention to what she was pulling from the drawers or the closet. Not caring. She took a smaller bag into the bathroom, cleaning out her makeup, shampoo, hair dryer…. She picked up a half-used package of birth control pills. She stared at them, tears forming, threatening to spill. She crushed the package in her hand, arm shaking with the force of it, and flung it against the wall. Then she sank to the floor, curling into a ball on the cold tile, shoulders convulsing as the first sobs broke through.


She emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, face freshly scrubbed and bag firmly clutched in her hand. She crossed to their bed and picked up the duffel bag, eyes scanning the room one last time in search of anything she may have missed. Her eyes fell on the photograph standing on their dresser. She dropped the duffel bag and walked to it, unable to tear her gaze away.

She picked up the photo and ran one finger lightly over it. It was from their wedding. All six of them were in the picture. Max was wearing her veil and Michael and Alex were wearing the other girls’ floral wreaths. They all had one pant’s leg hoisted up, showing off their hairy legs while Liz, Maria and Isabel kneeled in front of them, pulling off their garters.

She smiled briefly, remembering that night. It had been Alex’s idea – the guys wearing the garters instead of the girls. She was surprised when Michael and Max had actually gone along with it. She traced the image of Max’s face with the tip of her finger. He looked so happy. He had one arm around Michael’s shoulders and one around Alex’s and they had their heads thrown back, singing some bawdy song they had made up. Max seldom ever allowed himself to be that carefree.

Liz turned abruptly and crossed to the bed. She clenched her jaw tightly, refusing to break down again. She unzipped the bag, stuffed the picture in, zipped it back up again and swung the strap onto her shoulder with a determination she didn’t quite feel.

She walked through the living room, toward the front door, as she ran through her mental to-do list. Yesterday had been payday. The check was still in her purse, so the next stop would be the bank. She would cash the check and withdraw exactly half of their savings account. Then she would drive to the bus station. She didn’t know where she was going to go yet. Maybe somewhere warm. It had been so long since she had felt warm.

She pulled the door shut behind her.

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