Coming Home

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine; they are property of Jason Katims and Melinda Metz. The song Oil and Water belongs to Majandra Delfino, a very talented singer/actress.

Distribution: Sure, take it. Just email the URL afterwards please!

Summary: Michael has been missing for 8 years…

Authors Note: This is a new style of writing for me; this story (the 1st chapter) actually came to me in a dream. So I figured I had to write it.

Max's Thoughts

It's been 8 years since Michael left us. 8 years since he disappeared in the middle of the night with only hastily scribbled note left behind. A few lines of comfort. I've been searching for him for nearly as long. He was my brother, my family. Him leaving like that ripped us apart and I was more lost than I'd ever thought I would be.

It was typical that the day I decided to stop searching was the day I finally found him. Michael would appreciate that irony. He was in the last place I ever expected him to be, but that was always part of Michael's charm, wasn't it, to be unexpected.

The bar smelt of warm beer, urine and cigarette smoke. I coughed as the second hand smoke drifted into my lungs. Poisoning them. The seats were covered with various stains, the covers ripped and tatty, this wasn't a good place to be in. It had a menacing vibe from every corner…yet there he was! Laughing and joking with what looked like a bunch of college students. He must be 23 now.

I'd only stopped in to get a small drink and then be on my way back to Roswell. I never would have dreamed of looking for him in nearby bars, considering his past with his foster father Hank. He always said he would never touch alcohol after seeing what it did to his childhood. But I guess we all change.

I watched him silently from the corner, he was laughing. A real laugh. I can't remember if I had ever seen him laugh like that before. An inner green eyed-monster woke from it slumber and growled at seeing him so happy, after everything he had put us through. We, his family were the ones who were meant to make him laugh and smile, not these strangers! It was probably the booze that lifted his spirits, but my envious feelings were still there, boiling under the surface. I hadn't laughed in a very long time.

He looked the same, a little older perhaps. His hair was the same, maybe a little shorter but still going for that electric shock style. But he really hadn't changed that much, physically anyway. Who knows about him mentally/spiritually or emotionally? Perhaps he's married? Perhaps he has children? Or perhaps he's still quite the loner. I don't know him anymore. A lifetime has passed since we last talked.

He was obviously drunk senseless, falling this way and that and pulling his buddies down with him. I don't think he could see me; I hid myself as much as I could behind other people and my leather coat. I watched him shake his can and spray the foam all over his friends. Were they celebrating? If so, what? The end of college? A birthday? The urge to talk to him was so strong; it hurt to tear myself away.

I took a last look and slipped out of the door and drove towards Roswell. I suppose if Michael wants to come home, he will. He knows that his family is here; ready to welcome him with open arms when he chooses to come home.

tbc...