“I can’t tell, Liz, I can’t even...,” Max broke off, shaken by his friend’s condition.

Alex let go off Isabel and placed her in Max’s arms. They needed to touch each other right now. He put his hand over Michael’s chest, then his mouth, “He’s breathing steadily. Shallowly, but steady.”

“So do you think he’s dreaming? Because maybe if he’s dreaming, Isabel can...check it out?”

“Not Isabel, I’ll do it. It's my responsibility.”

“No, Max. I’m better at dreamwalking than you.” She went to lie down next to Michael but offered one hand to both Max and Alex. Her brother and her boyfriend both squeezed her tight and Liz placed herself at the foot of the bed.

***

pump pump pump ***

Liz had to hold down Isabel’s legs once she started convulsing.

Clouds of steam began to billow from Michael’s still form. It was the sort of steam that made your skin blister if you put your face over an open boiling pot. Liz could feel the sores on her cheeks and saw them on Alex, too, through the steam.

“Alex, we have to get out of here,” she screamed, trying to ignore the pain.

“We have to take her with us -she’s starting fade, too!”

“Downstairs, hurry!”

“I won't leave him,” Max screamed as he opened the door for them.

Liz and Alex practically tumbled down the stairs holding Isabel’s swollen body. Panting, they dropped her on the couch and watched as the steam began to fill the rest of the house.

“Water,” Liz rasped. “I’m dry.”

“Me, too,” Alex said agreed. He had difficulty pouring them drinks. He looked down at his blistered hands; “This was not the best idea.”

“Water helps, we should bring some up to Max.”

“Go ahead, I’ll try to get some into Is-”

A scream split through the dissolving steam. Max’s.

***

“I had to,” Max whispered, his entire body glowing silver. Like Isabel, his eyes were sunken and it looked like they were going to slide off the couch.

“I couldn’t get in.” Isabel repeated, “I couldn’t get in. It was like, there wasn’t anything to get into. I’ve never felt anything like that.”

She paused, “But it hurt.”

Liz sighed; Max had healed all of them though he had been exhausted; the steam had disappeared through open windows. She looked at him, “What happened?”

“After you left, I could see him, touch him. It helped, I thought that if I did, maybe it’d...help enough.”

“He drained us,” Isabel said. “Why?”

"I CHOOSE HIM!" Michael's scream was deafening. Alex and Liz raced upstairs to find him thrashing, moaning.

Liz grabbed a sock out of Alex's top drawer, and moving quickly, stuffed it in Michael's mouth. "Calm down," she crooned, "You'll choke yourself."

By degrees, he subsided. By the time Isabel and Max had made it up the stairs, supporting each other, Liz had taken out the sock.

Max took Michael's hand. Isabel sat next to him on the bed and cradled his face. Running her fingers through his hair she asked, "What's happening, Michael? Do you know."

Michael put a finger to his lips, "Can't tell you, Izzy. Secret." His eyes lit up faintly and he leaned forward conspiratorially, "I did it. Are you proud of me?"

The four exchanged confused looks.

"What did he do?" Alex voiced for all of them. "What did he do to himself?"

***

Water churned around her waist. The faces had swallowed up Michael; she dove down through droves of small jawed fish until her hair caught in the sharp coral. It lashed her as the waves tossed her body back and forth, she broke against it losing a bit of her scalp. She ignored the sea salt working its way into wound, she was deep now where the fish had no eyes. Crawling on the ocean floor, she scraped her knees on shell and became lost in the algae.

It was too dark, she couldn't see anything. She could feel faces made out in water, they pressed against her body buoying her up, carrying her. They had little teeth that scratched when they groaned wordlessly.

They brought her into a hall lit by phosphorescent slugs. Bonelessly, she drifted to Michael when the emerald scales of his tail blinded her. She held out her arms. She tried to call out but the water rushed into her, it filled –she was going to be torn apart.

Then a great wave swept through the hall, bearing her back up to the sky. She could see the ruins of a castle and a black tower's base, both smothered by the white salt sea.

Before the sea crumbled and the sky with it, she saw one spot of color. The observation was almost divorced from herself: Distantly, was Michael that in the embrace of her wave's twin? She only saw his emerald tail bobbing up and down.

***

Maria gasped for air when the dream broke.

It took her a moment to realize she was lying face down in the Whitman's welcome mat. Gathering herself she rapped on the door.

"Maria?" Alex was surprised to see her, school had not let out yet.

"What's going on, Alex?" She shouldered her way past him. "What the hell is going on? What's wrong with Michael? Where is he?"

"Maria-"

"Why would something be wrong?" Isabel cut in, suspicious. She was still, as ever, protective of her brothers. As much as she liked Maria, the girl had still shown up here without having been informed.

"Why are you all here then?" Maria stepped closer to the taller girl, anger edging into her voice.

Alex tried to placate them both, "Why don't we all just sit down?"

"No, Alex! I want to know why I've been dreaming Michael's dreams?"

Isabel's eyes narrowed, "You," she hissed. "What have you done?" Alex had to step between them to keep Isabel from clawing at Maria.

"Me? What have I done? I'm a victim here –I never wanted any of you in my sleep! I never asked for weird, freaky mermaid dreams to pull me out of consciousness! Where's Michael? If he's the one who done this, I want it fixed!"

Alex took Maria aside, "Look, Maria, you're angry. Isabel's angry. Why don't we just take some time and I'll tell you what's going on later. Deal?"

"Alex," she snarled warningly.

Firmly, he replied, "Later. I promise."

"Fine," she looked down at her watch. "I gotta meet my dad anyway."

***

"He's gone," Max said quietly when Isabel returned upstairs.

"No," she grabbed at where Michael should have been.

"I can still see him, Isabel, just barely," Liz affirmed.

"It's Maria," Isabel said.

"Now, you don't-"

"You heard her yourself, Alex! She's stealing his dreams somehow."

"Maria wouldn't do that."

"Liz is right, Is." Max held his sister. "I'm scared, too. But you remember what Michael said, that he did something?"

"That's vague," Alex said.

"And he asked if you were proud," Liz frowned. "Was there anything he was trying to do."

"Oh, my god, Max, the painting." Isabel grabbed her head between her hands. "That night, on the rock...do you think he did it?"

"Did what, Isabel?" Alex asked.

"He was going to try to paint something into life." Max explained, "He got the idea from some fairy tale. I thought he gave it up, though. He never mentioned it after that night."

"He never mentioned the dreams either."

"What night?" Liz asked.

"The day he made that cake," Max tried to remember. "What if he did and whatever kind of monster he created is stealing his life force?"

"Whoa," Alex said. "Don't you think that's kind of far fetched? It sounds like a bad B-movie. You know, siphoning alien brains."

"We don't know," Is said. "Anything is possible."

"Okay," Liz spoke up. "So we go and find Michael's paintings and destroy them?"

"We don't even know what to look for?"

"Oh, no," Alex looked like he was hyperventilating. "What if? What if we're the painting? Or in it?"

They stopped to stare at him. Finally Max answered, "Let's not even deal with that thought yet. Alex and I will drive to the school and see if he's got anything there. He wouldn't have left anything at Hank's. You two stay and watch Michael."

"What about Maria?"

"She's with her dad right now," Isabel felt guilty. "I don't want to bother her. We'll call her later."

***

"And we go ski in Zurich or see the fjords in Norway," Jeremy told his daughter. She was cuddled next to him, a stack of tour guides in front of them. "Oh, and you'll love Germany, they have the best food: schnitzel, bratwurst, and brotchen."

"Cool, I promised Liz I'd get her a dirndl!"

Jeremy hugged Maria, "And, of course, we'll have to get Alex lederhosen."

She laughed; he was great. The incident with Isabel had left her mind. She didn't need anyone but her dad.

***

"Thanks, Mr. Hinds," Max told the art teacher. "Michael thought he should start to keep them all at home."

"No problem, they were starting to clutter the room, anyway. Actually, about his final project-"

"Max!" Alex yelled from down the hall. "Motor's running, come on."

"Oh, gotta go, Mr. Hinds. Thanks again."

"Did you get them all?"

"Yeh, come on, help me with them." The two boys loaded the paintings into the jeep.

***

"There are only seven?" Isabel asked.

"Not including the domes, but I think those were made too long ago."

"And the one in the library –but we checked it out," Max added.

"Okay, so what do we have?" Liz began to unwrap the paintings.

They worked slowly, not sure what they wanted.

"These are all landscapes and still lifes," Max said, finally.

"So we're thinking Venus Fly Trap-Little Shoppe o' Horrors maybe," Alex deadpanned.

"Alex, this isn't the time."

"I'm serious."

"Hey, stop, you guys," Liz broke in. "There's one left."

"It's heavier."

Isabel touched it, "I don't feel anything special about it."

"Who says you should?" Max said impatiently.

"No."

"What is it? We can't see, Liz."

Liz swallowed hard as she turned the panel around.

"Oh my god, that's-"

"Look at the date on it, Isabel, it's the night Michael got his powers under control."

"Max," Alex's voice had lost all humor, "How did he know...?"

"He's right," Liz said, "This is before we ever met him. That's just before Maria started getting the phone calls. Max, how did he know what Maria's dad looked like?"

***