"We tried," Michael said. They just hadn't really heard each other. Or they'd ended up in bed or fighting instead. They had a pattern. Can't stay away, but can't stay either.

"You probably would have a lot less chaos in your life if you ran off with a green haired guy instead of sticking around Roswell," Michael said. Or if he settled down with the hot doctor who used to be his best friend before a brief trip to homophobic asshole town. (Which Michael guessed had been hiding same-sex inclinations by being a homophobic bully. But he'd kind of figured that might be the case as soon as he'd heard Isobel spent time hanging out with Valenti in a queer bar.)

He grimaced at the answer. "You said Max was here, and I was here before. Or some version of me. No chance whatever drugs they use don't work on us then." He'd already known it because whatever they did to knock him out before he woke up the first time here had worked. But it'd have been nice to be wrong. "And you're supposed to get one of those or they what, assign you someone to give you a hall pass to get food or go to the bathroom and get off with you on the regular?"