FanFic - Max/Liz
"Darkness and Light"
Part 7b
by Mattia
Disclaimer: I do not own them in any way or form! They are the property of The WB, Melinda Metz and Jason Katims.
Summary: The story begins a couple days after Crazy. It would probably help to read the previous parts of this fanfic first!
Category: Max/Liz
Rating: PG
Max laid on his cot, his eyes staring at the ceiling. How long had he been here? He wondered. Did anyone know he was gone? Was anyone even looking for him? He had never felt so alone. He let his thoughts drift toward happier times; he thought about Liz mostly. The way her hair fell over one shoulder, how soft her lips were, the taste of her lip gloss…

Max jumped as the outer door suddenly burst open. Pierce entered the room, with a guard on either side of him and one behind him carrying a food tray. Max watched Pierce swipe a card into an electronic keypad next to the cell door. Then, he held up his hand, letting the machine scan in his fingerprints to identify him. Lastly, he punched in a code number and waited as a small green light flickered on and the machine beeped pleasantly at him. Moments later, a small door, maybe three inches high and a foot long, slid open along the bottom of the glass partition. Pierce signaled to the guard with the tray, who then came forward and pushed it through to Max’s side. Pushing a series of buttons on the keypad, then going through the same process as he did moments ago, Pierce stepped back as the glass door slid shut.

As the men walked toward the outer door, Max jumped from his bed, “Wait! Where are you going? Where am I? What’s going on?”

The men kept walking.

“Pierce!” Max yelled, slamming his hand against the glass. Pierce looked over and gave him a chilling smile. A moment later, the outer door opened and he left the room, leaving Max alone yet again.

Max sat on the floor of his cell. He knew hours had passed; yet no one had entered the room since he had seen Pierce. He looked over at the tray that had been delivered to him. It held a bowl that had something--Max could only assume was edible--in it. He had tried to ignore the growling in his stomach, but the hunger was becoming over whelming now. Giving into his temptation, he slid the tray over and took a closer look at the mixture, which he thought looked similar to oatmeal.

Not being able to stand it any longer, max put two fingers into the bowl since there were not any utensils and brought the hand to his mouth. Swallowing the bland tasting substance, he scooped up a second mouthful, then a third. Suddenly, Max knew something was very wrong. Pushing the tray away, he chided himself for not realizing sooner that the food had been tainted with drugs. He slowly tried to make his way to the toilet, but his vision began to blur and his clumsy footsteps made him fall. Knowing he had no choice, Max let the darkness take him. Max concentrated on his breathing, telling himself, in then out, over and over. It was the only way he could withstand the pain. When he had first woken up, completely disoriented, he could only wonder where he was and what was going to happen. His cage was gone, although he found himself bound to a cold metal table with his gown peeled down to his waste.

As the day drew on, different men had entered the room, bringing with them different pieces of equipment. One had brought the IV in and Max felt the pain of the needle being jammed into his lower arm. Yet another man had placed a plastic plate in his mouth. Max had tried to resist, but his muscles did not seem to be responding and the plate slipped into his mouth, between his teeth, without much of a fight. It felt awkward in his mouth and he tried to move it with his tongue, but found he could not. It seemed to almost be glued to his teeth. Giving up on the plate, Max watched as more men entered the room. Two of them wheeled a large machine over and placed small electrodes on his chest and then hooked them to the machine. As the machine was turned on, Max braced himself, but nothing happened.

Finally, the door opened one last time, Pierce and another man entered. Both of them walked over to Max leisurely, as though taking a stroll on a beautiful afternoon day. With one of them standing on either side of him, they placed a small black helmet over Max’s head. Then, all of the men seemed to gather around Pierce as he whispered his instructions. Moments later they all broke and Max knew he was in trouble. Pierce stood in front of him, saying nothing, as two men approached Max with large syringes.

The day only got worse from there.

Hours later, Max still laid chained to the table. It had started with the needles. It seemed as though he had been poked by at least 100 syringes, each one with a different substance. At first, nothing happened and he began to relax, but as they pumped the fifth solution into him, that all changed. Suddenly, his muscles tensed and his limbs began flailing everywhere. His jaw began to shake and the only thing that kept him from biting down on his tongue was the plastic plate. He felt as if his head was going to explode. Pain seemed to be gushing out of every pore in his body. A while later--Max wasn’t sure how long--his suffering began to subside and his body went limp. He could feel the stickiness from his sweat as the gown clung to his body.

Without even giving him time to regroup, Max felt the sting of another needle and waited with fear as the solution began mixing in his body. Again, the pain came; it kept coming, as did the injections.

Max tried to rationalize that he would have been okay if it had just been the needles, but after a while, Pierce and the others grew bored with that and hooked up the strange helmet on his head to yet another machine. Pierce, after glancing over at Max, who was watching him with horror, flipped on the device. Max immediately felt some discomfort, but nothing extremely painful until Pierce turned the dial on the machine up. With every click of the knob, the pain increased. It was then that his body started to shake and that he lost all control of his bodily functions. Still, that did not dissuade Pierce in any way. As the needle on one machine frantically drew lines on sheets of paper, Pierce kept turning up the knob on the other machine, which only made the needle scribble faster.

The pain was worse than Max could have thought imaginable. It felt like knives cutting into his body and a vice grip tightening on his head. Max’s eyes grew huge, expressing the anguish that he felt. Pierce watched all this with detached fascination, almost smiling every now and again. Drifting back into consciousness, Max lifted his head from his chest. That small motion seemed like the biggest effort at the moment. Scared to open his eyes, he lifted one eyelid enough to peer out. He let out a sigh of relief as he realized he was back in his cell. He never thought he would be so happy to see this room! After taking a moment to fully grasp the situation, Max realized something was dreadfully wrong and stifled a cry as he looked at himself. His arms had huge welts on them that were an angry bluish-purple and he also noticed similar marks on his legs. Pulling open his gown, small red circles had been seared into his chest and, as he traced it gently with one hand, he could feel a bumpy ring that circled around his head. Even touching it gently made him jump in pain. Trying to get up from the floor, Max found he couldn’t. He barely had enough control over his body to reach up and wipe away the tears glistening in his eyes. Admitting defeat for the moment, Max fell back to the floor and closed his eyes, never wanting to open them again. Liz opened her eyes, almost forgetting where she was. Stretching in the small, cramped area of the Jetta, she looked over at Michael, except Michael was not there. As her body tensed, she wildly looked around for him. Not seeing any trace of him, she quietly climbed out of the Jetta, her heart pounding. I have already caused Max to get captured, she thought, I can’t afford to lose Michael too!

Sneaking toward Tess’s house, Liz flattened herself against the fence and crept toward the back gate. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed her. Her first instinct was to scream—which her captor realized--and placed his hand over her mouth. Trying to contain her flailing arms, he turned her around and Liz took in a deep breath when she realized it was Michael. Gently, he let her go.

“What are you doing?!” She asked in a worried whisper.

Michael held a finger to his mouth to keep her quiet, then spoke softly, “I think Tess is here. I mean, nothing has changed, but I feel it. I can’t really explain it, so I thought I would come take a look.”

“You should have woken me!” Liz chided, standing next to him in the shadows. “I thought something happened to you! Now, what exactly is the plan?”

“The plan is that we go around to the back, scope things out, try to find Tess or a way into the house, follow me.”

Together, the two of them slipped through the latched gate with the help of Michael’s powers and snuck into the back yard. Michael pointed at the house and Liz looked up to see a dim light from one of the rooms. Michael then pointed toward a large tree next to the window and attempted to climb it, but Liz pulled on his jacket.

“No, let me climb it! I am lighter and can get up there more easily. You will never be able to climb out on that branch to see into the window.” Stepping in front of him, Liz placed a hand on the tree and Michael pushed her up from behind.

As quietly as she could, Liz climbed the tree, trying to ignore the sharp pieces of bark that jabbed into her hands. Finally making it to the branch, she carefully climbed out on it as she felt it shift beneath her weight.

Finally, she was close enough to the window. She pressed her face against the glass to try to see between the curtains, which were almost all the way closed. Looking in, she let out a gasp. She sat there for a moment, frozen, peering into the window.

“What?!” Michael called up to her anxiously.

Looking down at him, she could feel the branch loosening. She tried to crawl back to the base of the tree, but never made it. A moment later, she felt herself falling. Liz braced herself, but the hard ground never came, instead, she fell roughly against Michael, who grunted as he absorbed the blow from her fall.

Looking up at Michael, Liz tried to control her breathing, “Michael, you were right, Tess is here. She is in there packing, throwing things into a suitcase, as we speak.”

Grabbing Liz, he ducked against the house as the curtain fluttered and for a brief moment, Tess’s face appeared in the window and then disappeared again.

“What now?” Liz asked anxiously.

“We are going to get her and make her tell us where Max is.” Michael said in pure, cold, angry determination.

Part 6 | Index
Max/Liz | Michael/Maria | Alex/Isabel | UC Couples | Valenti | Other | Poetry | Crossovers | AfterHours
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