He stood up and paced around the carpeted area between Max's bed and his dresser. Then he turned and faced Isabel. "I stayed with him even after I knew he killed Michael's and my parents," he blurted out. "I still didn't think DuPris was evil. Just determined. Willing to do whatever it took to end the control of the consciousness. Our parents had to be killed, or the Stone of Midnight would have been returned to the home planet and all chance of shattering the consciousness would have been lost."
Tears formed at the corners of Isabel's eyes. Trevor wasn't just talking about his parents. He was talking about her parents, too.
Trevor started talking faster. "I thought the cause was worth even that sacrifice," he said, stopping in front of her. "I thought no price was too high if it meant the consciousness would be shattered and the beings of our planet would be free again."
Isabel thought about Max. Unable to speak, unable to move unless the collective consciousness allowed it. She had risked death itself so she wouldn't have to join the consciousness and end up like her brother. She could almost understand why Trevor was willing to accept even the murder of his parents as a necessary loss.
She shifted on the bed, wiping her moist palms on the plaid comforter. "What changed your mind about DuPris?" she asked, eyeing Trevor.
"When he killed Adam," Trevor said, straightening his posture. "That was not necessary, not to shattering the consciousness, not to anything. That's when I understood the truth about DuPris."
Greasy streaks of puke green shame began snaking through Trevors aura, along with splotches of crimson anger. Anger at himself. Isabel was sure of that.
"You killed DuPris one instant after you realized the truth," Isabel reminded him. "He was a hero to you, and you didn't hesitate to take him down. Don't forget that." A couple of the shame streaks lightened.
"Thanks," Trevor muttered. He sat back down beside her. Isabel could feel the edge of his aura brushing against hers, although their bodies weren't even touching. He's one of the good guys, she thought.
"I can't go more than a couple of minutes without thinking about Max," she said, surprising herself. She hadn't planned to go there. Isabel shot a glance at the bookcase. The desire to get up and rearrange it was like an itch in her brain, but she refused to let herself do it. She moved a little closer to Trevor instead. He didn't speak, didn't press her.
"If something happens to him…" She stopped and cleared her throat when she heard her voice crack. "Well, something's already happened to him. But if-I don't think I could-" She clenched a fistful of bedspread in each hand and shook her head, closing her eyes. "I just can't talk about this."
"You don't have to talk. But you don't have to go through this alone, either. You have Michael and the others." He hesitated, then took her hands. "You have me, if that means anything."
His hands felt warm and soft around hers. "It does," she told him.
They sat there side by side in silence as the late afternoon light faded and the room grew dim and then dark. Isabel heard the front door open, then the sound of her parents' voices.
"You better change," she said. She reached over and flicked on the lamp on the nightstand. When she looked back at Trevor, his eyes had already lightened from gray to blue, his hair from brown to blond. A moment later Max was sitting beside her.
Except it wasn't really Max. It had been a long time since she'd really been with her brother.
Liz tightened her grip on the paper bag in her hand as she climbed up the steps to Michael's apartment. He opened the door before she had a chance to knock. "I thought I'd visit Max before school."
"You want company?" Michael asked.
"No, I'm good," Liz said. Michael stepped back to let her inside.
"I'm going to head out, then. I want to make a stop at the doughnut place," he said, hand on the doorknob.
"Yeah, go, it's fine," she assured him, trying to act casual. "I'll lock up when I leave." As soon as the door closed, Liz hurried through the living room and down the hall to the bedroom. She took a moment to brace herself for the sight of Max's lifeless face, then stepped inside.
"Um, I made you some of those blueberry-and-jalapeno muffins you like," she announced, her voice coming out too loud and phony. "I'll just leave them on the dresser. I guess the consciousness will let you eat sometime."
Just to keep you alive in case it needs to use you for something, she added silently. She sat down gingerly on the side of the bed and gazed down at Max, forcing herself not to turn away at the sight of his slack mouth and dull eyes.
"I know you're in there somewhere, Max," she said. "I'm just going to assume you can hear me." Now what? Liz tilted her head from side to side, the bones in her neck cracking slightly. "So let me tell you what's been going on. Elsevan DuPris is dead, so you don't have to worry about that. I know how much you worry about things. We're all safe. No crisis."
Except the crisis involving Max himself. She pushed away the thought and continued. "I do have some sad news about Adam. He's dead, Max." She struggled to control the tremor that had infected her voice. "DuPris killed him."
Liz checked Max's eyes. Not a flicker of emotion or even awareness.
"I don't know if you ever noticed that Adam had a crush on me. And when you-when you weren't around that much, I started spending more time with him. He made me feel good. Special, you know?" Tears burned her eyes as she remembered the time she spent with Adam. She twisted her hair into a knot, then let it fall back down her back, trying to keep her composure. It wasn't going to help Max if she sat here sobbing.
"I don't know why I'm even telling you this," she said. "No, that's not true," she corrected herself. "I'm telling you because I want you to know that although I really cared about Adam, I never fell in love with him. I've never loved anybody but you, Max. I don't think I ever will."
Liz did another eye check. Nothing.
"You might find it hard to accept that," she continued, wanting to believe he was listening and praying he could. "I know I broke up with you. But that's because you were so deeply connected to the consciousness that you weren't even you anymore. The way I felt… the way I feel-it hasn't changed. I love you. I love you so much."
She reached out and ran her fingers down his cheek. His skin felt warm and dry, but a chill ran through her.
"I should go. School." Liz stood up. "I'll come back later." She started for the door, then turned back, her breath coming in quick bursts. "We all heard you when you told us you were trapped that day in the hangar. We all heard you ask for help. I promise that we're going to find a way to bring you back."
A gasp escaped her lips as she did one last eye check. Max's gaze met hers directly, his eyes bright with life.
He sat up, then swung himself out of bed and strode over to her, his eyes never leaving hers. Liz almost fell into his arms, but then he started talking, and his words made her freeze.
"I was relieved that you broke up with me," he told her. "It saved me the hassle of trying to come up with something to say to you."
"What?" Liz took an involuntary step backward and smacked into the door, the knob digging into her spine.
"It was fun for a while-having a human girlfriend," he continued. "But now, through the consciousness, I've gotten to see what life's like at home, my real home. All I can think about is getting back there. And it's not as if I can take you with me, so…" He shrugged. "It's just as well we're officially not together."
"What?" Liz said again. It was Max talking. She was sure of it. Whenever the consciousness was in control of him, his face was totally lifeless. But now his eyes were blinking and sparkling; his skin looked healthy. He was totally there. But how could he say these things to her?