FanFic - Max/Liz
"Choices"
Part 7
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.
Six Months Later--

Liz’s knees were beginning to ache. She shifted uncomfortably, wincing as her knees rocked on the hard tile floor. She could feel perspiration running down her spine, making her shirt stick to her back. She braced one elbow on the seat of the toilet and rested her head in her hand. She knew she wasn’t done yet. There was nothing left in her system to vomit, but that didn’t seem to matter. Her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps and she lifted herself over the bowl. She gagged, her stomach straining to rid itself of its contents.

She dully watched the red drops of blood spread, turning the water pink. The blood she was throwing up was getting darker. She should probably be concerned, but she just couldn’t seem to make herself care anymore.

She reached one trembling hand and flushed the toilet, then shoved herself to her feet. She bent over the sink, splashing water on her face, rinsing her mouth. She straightened and pulled a wad of paper towels from the dispenser. All the pregnant women she saw looked so healthy, their faces round and glowing. She patted her face dry and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was all sharp angles and shadows with hollow, sunken eyes - like a corpse. She was losing weight even though her stomach continued to expand. Every bit of food she managed to keep down was going to the baby. And, even though all the pregnancy books said she should be far past the morning sickness stage, she wasn’t able to keep much of anything down and hadn’t been able to for the last four months. It didn’t take a genius to know this pregnancy wasn’t normal.

“I’m dying,” she whispered into the mirror.

--

“Sure you wouldn’t rather have a beer, Max?”

“I’m sure. I’ll just stick to the Coke.” Max smiled at Carl, the algebra teacher from Glenview High School. Carl shrugged and handed the pitcher of beer to someone else.

Max sighed and looked down into his drink. The first couple of months after Liz had left he had spent most of his time brooding, worrying, pestering Maria for information. School had let out in early June and Max got a job as a tour guide at the Field Museum of Natural History just to keep himself from going insane over the summer. When school had started up again, a couple of the teachers who knew that he was separated from his wife had coerced him into going out for the weekly TGIF at the neighborhood sports bar.

Max had attended each gathering for the past month. It was a good way to avoid going home and spending a long weekend alone. If he stayed out late enough Friday night he would sleep in the next morning. Then he would do laundry and other general housework on Saturday afternoon, rent a video in the evening, and on Sunday morning he’d go for a long run. That just left Sunday afternoon to get through.

“I don’t like beer, either.”

Max smiled at the young woman sitting next to him. Maggie Preston was the rookie English teacher - and she had taken a decided interest in Max. The gossip around work was that his marriage hadn’t even lasted a year; that his wife had left him for some professor who could further her career. Maggie was determined to have that wedding ring off his finger by Christmas.

--

Liz forced herself to move quickly, even though the only thing on her mind was curling up in a ball on the couch and watching the late late show. She looked down at her protruding stomach and sighed. She wouldn’t be able to curl up in a ball for a little while yet. And there was no time to think about that anyway. They would be opening the doors in fifteen minutes and it was student ID night. No cover for the college students meant it would be a full house.

She had started working as a waitress at Club Marilyn two days after she had arrived in the city. When she had gotten too big to be on her feet all night, the manager had stationed her at the front door to check IDs. Liz stacked the last of the clean glasses, paying no attention to the chatter of the two young bartenders as they prepared to open for the evening. Satisfied that everything was ready, she waddled over to a table and, bracing one hand against her lower back, eased herself into the chair. She had ten minutes to rest and she was going to enjoy each and every one of them.

“You okay?”

Liz looked up, startled momentarily, then smiled at the manager of the club. “I’m just a little tired.”

Bob sighed and sat in the chair across from her. “I know this isn’t any of my business, but Jenni and I are both worried about you. I can understand being tired and the general aches and pains, but you're vomiting way too much. Have you kept any food down today?”

Liz silently shook her head.

“What about yesterday?”

“Yeah, yesterday I had a tuna fish sandwich with raspberry jam.”

“Oh… great… now I’m going to lose * my * dinner. You realize that’s absolutely disgusting, don’t you?”

“Sorry,” Liz laughed. “It sounded really good at the time.”

The smile faded from his eyes. “What does your doctor say about your condition?”

Liz shrugged. “She says that I need to get more rest and quit worrying so much. Easier said than done.”

“So, she really thinks it’s just stress?”

“Mmmhmm,” Liz nodded, lips pressed in a thin line. She hated lying to Bob. He and his wife, Jenni, had been so nice to her, but she couldn’t tell anyone she wasn’t actually seeing a doctor. “I only have another week or two to get through.” She lifted her eyes to his and smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

He nodded. “Okay.” He brightened a bit and changed the subject. “I hope your stomach can handle the cake for your party tomorrow.”

“Bob, I don’t need a party. I only worked here for six months.”

“But four months of that was during festival season.”

Liz groaned. “I have never seen a city that likes to party as much as this one.”

“You’ve never been to Madison,” Bob laughed. He glanced at his watch. “Eight o’clock. Time to open up.”

Liz hauled herself to her feet. “Do you want me to work at the bar until ten?”

“Nah, why don’t you get yourself situated at the door. I have a feeling the kids will be heading out early tonight.”

Liz turned with a smile. That was a lie and they both knew it. There would only be a handful of people in here until after 10:00. She grabbed a magazine she had left at the end of the bar and boosted herself into her chair at the entrance. Bob was taking it easy on her, but she wasn’t about to complain.

She idly paged through the magazine as her mind worked through everything she had to get done over the next few days. She would be working here again tomorrow night, but this would be her last night at the diner. Thank god. She had worked the midnight to six shift during the week and from four to eight in the morning on weekends for the past six months. It hadn’t been fun, but it gave her a few extra dollars, and when she had first gotten here the tips she got between her two jobs were what she lived on. Most importantly, it filled up her night hours. If she weren’t at home she wouldn’t be tempted to sleep. She hadn’t slept at night since Max had visited her in her dream.

She pushed the thought of Max aside and focused her mind on the next few days. She had to try and get as much packed as possible, before the baby came. She lifted her eyes from the magazine and stared through the front windows of the club. She wondered again if she would even live to see her child’s face.

--

“Thanks for giving me a ride home, Max.” Maggie smiled at the man sitting next to her. “I can’t believe I had a flat tire.”

“It’s no problem. You probably just picked up a nail or something.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel of his car and smiled, waiting for her to get out.

She looked out at her apartment building and then back at Max. “Why don’t you come up for a bit? We can watch a video or something.”

His eyes darted around, taking in the neighborhood, trying to think of a polite way to refuse. He paused. It was one in the morning, but he wasn’t at all tired. He knew if he went home now he would sit and dwell on everything in his life that had gone wrong.

He followed her to the front door of the building. He knew, wherever Liz was, she was awake right now, too. He had tried one other time to enter her dreams, a time when he didn’t think he could take their separation another day, another hour. He was going to beg, promise her anything if she would just talk to him, tell him where she was so he wouldn’t continuously worry about her, but he couldn’t get in. He had tried every hour throughout the night. He tried again the next night with the same result. That was when he realized Liz was making sure he couldn’t communicate with her. She had completely cut herself off from him. He had only heard her voice once since that night. She had left a message on their voice mail, telling him her car was at the bus station. No word about how she was doing, where she was, if she missed him, if she still loved him in spite of everything he had said and done.

He stepped into the elevator with Maggie and watched as she pushed the button for the fifth floor. Then she was standing in front of him.

“You look so sad,” she murmured. “You always look sad. Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?” She ran her hands up his chest to his shoulders. “Anything at all?” And then she pulled his head down to hers.

--

Liz nodded to the three guys in front of her to go on into the club and took a quick peek at her watch. Only a little after 1:00. She had almost seven hours to go before she could go home and collapse in bed.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out as her back spasmed with pain. There was no one waiting to enter the club, so she slid from her chair and took a few steps, hoping to walk off some of the tension in her muscles. The pain swept through her, doubling her over. She clutched her stomach. No. No, it could not be a contraction. Not yet.

--

Her lips brushed his gently. The elevator stopped and she took his hand, pulling him down the hall to her apartment.

Max let himself be led through the door. She pushed the door shut and locked it. Max looked down at her. Maggie was pretty with auburn hair and deep blue eyes. And she was petite, just a little taller than Liz. Maybe if he closed his eyes…

His body was giving in to the overwhelming need. He was aware of his arms going around her, pulling her hard against him, of her lips parting beneath his, of his tongue exploring the deep recesses of her mouth. He kept his eyes tightly closed.

Don’t look. Don’t see her.

His hands went to the back of her head, trying to force her mouth harder to his. And that’s when it all went wrong. His fingers tangled in her hair, but it wasn’t the soft, silky strands that would cascade and tumble through his fingers. This hair was coarse, thicker.

Oh god.

Max pushed her away and stared at her, eyes wide with fear. “What have I done?” He whispered.

Maggie smiled with understanding, but there was no way she was going to let him deny the passion and longing in that kiss.

“You kissed me, Max. * You * kissed * me *. And it seemed that you enjoyed it. In fact, I would say that you needed it.” She stepped forward and brushed her fingers through his hair.

Max grasped her wrist and pushed her hand away from him. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I shouldn’t have come here.”

Maggie shook her head, sympathy in her eyes. “Max, she’s gone. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurt so badly, but she’s gone. You need to start living again.” She pressed her body close, trying to meld them into one, as she placed a soft kiss just under his jaw.

A tremble coursed through Max’s body. It would be so easy. Liz had left him. He still loved her, he knew that, but she was gone. This woman wanted him. He would never love her, but maybe she could help him forget….

A burst of energy pulsed through him, shoving him against the door. Pain. Confusion. Terror. All fused together, slicing through him, screaming in his head.

He bent over, clutching his head in his hands. He heard Maggie’s voice, laced with fear, calling to him, but there was an ocean of water between them, muffling the words, making her impossible to understand.

Max turned and fumbled for the lock. “No, you’re wrong. I’ll never be truly alive until I have Liz back. She is my life… and she needs me. I have to go. I’m sorry, Maggie. I didn’t mean to…. I have to find my wife before it’s too late.”

Max ran for the elevator. Liz was in trouble.

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