izzyalienqueen | Wheeler Estate, Roswell, Thursday Evening

The past twenty four hours had been frustrating for Clayton Wheeler. He'd found the healer he'd searched for for so long and she'd done what he'd wanted. Meris had moved with an energy she hadn't shown in years when they returned to their home.

Except she'd moved away from him and into their bedroom where she had disappeared under the blankets and refused to speak to him. He'd waited, displaying the patience that had served him so well the last two years. But now he was getting worried.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, Clayton reached out and gently shook her shoulder. "Meris, sweetheart, can you hear me?"

"Where am I?" she murmured, confusion evident in her voice.

Her voice sounded odd, Clayton realized as he pulled the blanket down. His hand froze as a head full of blonde hair and Isabel's face was exposed. "Meris?"

"Clayton? What's wrong?" Meris asked. She reached out to touch him and stopped as she caught sight of her hand. The skin was smooth, not a wrinkle or an age spot in sight. "How is this possible?"

Still shocked, Clayton reached for the silver mirror on the bedside table and handed it to her.

"No. That's not me. This can't be me!" she exclaimed, scrambling off the bed and across the room. She stopped in front of the full length mirror on the closet door and stared.

Clayton stepped up behind her and gently rested his hands on her shoulders. "It's all right, Meris. It's all right."

"This is impossible…"

"No," Clayton said. "She was trying to heal you. To make you young again."

"But why?" Meris whispered. "Why make me look like her? I want to talk to her."

"You can't," he replied. "She's dead. She doesn't matter anyway. All that's important is you."

"Me?" she repeated. "So this is me now?" Meris tilted her head, admiring herself in the mirror. "This is my body?"

"It's a very nice body," Clayton said with a playful leer.

"So now it's my turn to be the trophy spouse?" she teased.

"Meris, you know I've always loved you just the way you were. But this does open up a whole new set of possibilities for our relationship." Clayton scooped her up in his arms and kissed her passionately as he made his way over to the bed.

She returned the kiss, feeling a hunger that she hadn't felt in years.

"God, Meris," Clayton whispered as he started to unbutton the silk pajamas she wore.

Groaning, Meris turned away as a series of images flashed through her mind.

Michael, behind the counter at the diner, serving her breakfast and automatically handing her the bottle of Tabasco.

Sitting with Anders at the ballpark, happily sharing a bag of peanuts and cheering on the home team.

Snarking with Peter at Top Model, content and amused.

Parker, laughing in exasperation at some bit of Fandom insanity.

"No," she moaned. "No…"

Clayton hesitated. "Meris?"

"Something's wrong. Make it stop." She pulled away from Clayton, shuddering as the flood of images continued.

"Meris, what's wrong?"

"I saw a boy, her brother. Her friends."

A clearing in the woods, warm blankets and even warmer arms wrapped around her…

"Wyatt," Meris whispered. "Oh god, Wyatt…"

"Wyatt?"

"She loved him." She rose from the bed and paced. "This is wrong. These are her memories. She's here. Isabel. She's inside my head."

Clayton got to his feet and tried to catch her arm. "She's gone. Dead. Don't worry about her."

"No. She's still alive," Meris insisted. "Isabel Evans. She's still alive. She's in my head. This head... This head... I know you're in there, Isabel. I know you are. You want something, don't you? What is it you want?"

The island stood across the causeway as the ocean shimmered around it.

"Is the Gulfstream fueled and ready to go?"

Puzzled, Clayton nodded. "Always. Where do you want to go?"

"Virginia. We're going to Virginia."