State of Grace: Atmosphere

by Irene Shafer

Title: State of Grace: Atmosphere (#2 in the series)
Author: Irene Shafer
Email: ibshafer@frontiernet.net

Rating: PG

Catagory: Other – Max and Isabel (Not Outsider); Sibling stuff, destiny stuff

Disclaimers: the usual; I bow down to the “great” and powerful Katim's and company, by whose good graces I mangle these characters. . .
Summary: What followed after “Destiny’s” revelations; written in those first few weeks afterwards.

“If I could make it rain today

And wash away this sunny day

Down to the gutter,

I would

Just to get a change of pace

Things are getting worse but I feel a lot better

And that’s all that really matters to me.

We’ve waited so long

For someone to take us back home

It just takes so long

And meanwhile the days

Go drifting away

And some of us sink like a stone

Waiting for the mothers to come.”

                                -- Amy Hit the Atmosphere, This Desert Life, Counting Crows

He didn’t hear her come in the room. The music from the CD player effectively drowned out all other sound.

Which she knew was what he was going for.

The music was pretty. . . atmospheric. Melancholic. The perfect soundtrack for misery. Max’s favorite.

“You’re gonna wear that track out, you know,” she said, softly, when she was within a few feet of him.

He barely stirred, didn’t even flinch at the sound of her voice. Like he’d known she was there all along. And just didn’t care. It chilled her to the bone.

She put her arms around his neck and hugged him from behind.

“Isabel,” he whispered.

She held him for a moment longer, felt him lean back into her embrace then reach up and put a hand on her arm.

“Izzy,” he said. “Gotta breath.  . .”

“Sorry,” she apologized, taking a seat on the end of the bed. On the tape deck in front of him, Adam Duritz continued his soulful song.

She studied her brother for a moment, suddenly unsure of what to say.

Big changes in all their lives. Big, big, biiiiig changes. . . A destiny, with a capital “D”. A. . . a fiancee who, all her life, had been her ‘brother’. An enemy far worse than Pierce. One that might at this very moment, be heading their way. She hadn’t really started to process it all yet. Didn’t know how. She knew her brother, though. Knew what he was going through. And why.

“Trying to work it all out, aren’t you?” she asked, softly.

Max was chewing his lip, thoughtful. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quiet and strained. Like he'd been clenching his jaw for a while. Or holding his breath. “I’m not sure what we need to be doing right now, you know? How do we get ready for this?”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant, Max.” And when he looked at her, she could see that the question had really thrown him. The raw pain she suddenly saw there was so familiar, it cut straight to her belly. Hit her hard. Threatened to send her back into the tears she’d finally managed to pull herself from. Back into her pain. And that wasn’t why she was here. Not this time.

Max looked away, as though he knew what she was going to say – and didn’t want to hear it. “Max, I know what you’re really thinking about. Who.”

“Iz. . . don’t, please?”

“I know you, Max. You don’t let something go until you’ve fixed it and made it work the way you want it to. This is no different. Just a little harder, that’s all. . .” His face was set like stone again. Resigned. It scared her. If he couldn’t see it – it wouldn’t work for any of them. And she was no sooner ready to let go of Alex than she knew he was to let go of Liz. . .

“She was just trying to give you some space to think things through, that’s all.” But he was shaking his head by the time she’d finished speaking.

“That’s not what she was doing, Isabel.” He paused. “She was giving up.”

“Stepping aside isn’t the same thing as giving up and you know it.”

“What difference does it make,” he asked, that stone-face starting to crack. “What if she’s right? What if none of this is about what we want. What if it shouldn’t be?”

“Are you saying our fighting for our homeworld won’t work if you and Tess don’t. . .” but she couldn’t even finish it. “That doesn’t make us who we are or who we will be. And it doesn’t change what we can

do. . . for them.”

“Yeah, but what if what we have to do puts the people we love in the kind of danger we can’t fix? What if knowing us gets them . . .”

Isabel’s laugh was short and bitter. “It’s a little too late for that, Max. . .” She was surprised he hadn’t thought of this himself. Then again, she was sure that he had.

He looked up at her. “No, this is different. We’re talking two different threats here, Isabel. Pierce. . . won’t be a problem anymore. But who knows what else is on the way.” 

“Because we used the orbs?”

He nodded. “Because we used the orbs.” Max rose from his seat and went to the open window. There was a cool breeze tonight, moving the curtains, filling the room, but still there was sweat on his brow. “Who knows who or what we’ve alerted. Or how much time we have.”

She thought about this a moment, chose not to follow the train of thought. For the time being.

“OK, but that’s not why Liz left, Max.”

His voice was suddenly small. “I know that.”

“She left because she thinks you can’t fulfill your destiny unless you honor the . . . the previous. . . you’s obligation to Tess. . .”

Max shook his head. “Which is ridiculous, really.” He started to laugh, then caught himself. “One has nothing to do with the other. No matter what. . .” He broke off, suddenly uncomfortable with what he was about to say. “. . . no matter what she said.” He looked up, caught her eye. “I’m sorry, Iz, I know how much seeing her meant to you.  . .”

She nodded. “Everything. Not that I don’t love Mom. Not that I don’t still want to tell her everything. Everyday. . .”

“I know. I know you do. Seeing her meant a lot to me, too.” He still couldn’t call the woman his mother. He continued with a soft smile. Sad. “Maybe there’s a lot I don’t know.” Now he did laugh. “Strike that. I know there’s a lot I don’t know. About what we can do. About what we’re supposed to do. About what we need to do. But I don’t see how who my. . .” His voice broke. “I don’t see how who my heart belongs to affects that.”

She caught his eye. Smiled. Smiled wider when he returned it.

“Liz. . .” he began softly. “Liz said that we choose our own destinies.”

“You said that.” She corrected him.

He nodded. “And she reminded me of it just yesterday. When we were hiding in that van.”

“It’s still true, isn’t it?” she asked, hopefully. “I mean, I’ll do whatever’s needed. I just don’t see why. . . why that’s what’s needed, you know?” She shivered, remembering the dreams with Michael out in the desert, then the sweet expression on Alex’s face when he pledged he’d be there for her even though she thought she was pregnant with Michael’s baby. “Can’t we? Have it all, I mean? Can’t we work it out?”

“I don’t know, Iz.” Max said, back at the window again. “I just don’t know.”

She came up behind him and hooked her chin over his shoulder, her face beside his face, like she’d done when they were kids, so she could look where he was looking. Gently, she circled her arms around him.

They stood in silence for a moment, breathing in the night air and searching the clear black sky.

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, but resigned. “I do know one thing, though.”

“What’s that, Max?”

“I’m going to try.” He reached up and squeezed her hand. “I’m going to try.”

fini