Roswell, New Mexico

Previously on Roswell, New Mexico...

I'd forgotten about this place.

Our dads' old hunting cabin.

You have a secret.

Don't let it do to you

what it did to your father.

You didn't cover up my sister's murder

because you killed her.

It was Isobel, wasn't it?

Yes.

I never want to see you again.

You killed

three people.

How can you guarantee it won't happen again?

I was trying to create a serum that would mute your powers,

that would do the opposite of acetone.

Something has to be done.

I mean, Liz is right.

As long as I'm blacking out,

I am dangerous.

And I'm not going to allow myself

to hurt anyone again.

Safety is so easy to take for granted.

Especially when you grow up loved...

cherished...

protected.

Safety is a feeling you only value

once it's been stripped from you.

When someone you trust spills your secrets.

When someone invades your home.

Or when you're a little girl staring at the stars

in the desert one night,

and the Devil tries to drag you into hell.

Or, worse...

when the thing that makes you unsafe

isn't an invader at all.

What do you do when the evil you fear

is inside your own mind?

When there may be no way to kill it

without killing yourself.

You look thin.

So do you.

Really? Thank you.

How are you and Dad doing?

Yeah. Wonderful, of course.

Joan from bridge

tells me you gave her son a speeding ticket.

Why would you do that?

He was speeding.

But we know his family.

We know everybody's family.

So, is your sister on her way or...?

We need to talk about Isobel.

Can we talk about the cactus? I got this for your new office.

I would have come by sooner, but I've got an alien

on an involuntary psych hold.

I just need one day of not talking about

or thinking about or drinking about aliens.

Dr. Avila and I are gonna present our findings

to the board this afternoon, and I need to kill it.

Look, I support your alien cleanse,

but Isobel has no symptoms, and the psych ward isn't a...

hotel for the real housewives of New Mexico.

Yeah.

Max told me that she was having episodic blackouts.

Yeah.

Now and in 2008.

She killed Rosa? Hey.

There's a lot I need to tell you.

The visiting hours.

The sign on the door. "Antisocial patient."

Please. And look at you.

No tremors, no outbursts. I know you're in recovery,

but you're... so relaxed.

I'm not relaxed.

I'm trapped.

I'm not going to give up on you.

I'll take time off work. I'll take care of you. I...

I just want things to go back to normal.

Things have never been normal between us.

But I want them to be.

I want to come home with you.

Just...

let me talk to the doctor, privately. Okay?

: Yeah.

There must be some kind of a...

...treatment plan.

You should've told me sooner.

I know. But knowing has only made me feel worse.

I didn't want to drag you further into all of this.

I'm in it, Liz. I've been in it.

Okay.

Rosa was my... (Exhales)

Rosa was my friend, too.

Look, what do we do now? We can't just... do nothing.

I was working on this serum,

a way to strip Isobel of her powers.

I figured it might be a way to help people.

It eliminates the electromagnetic charge

around Max's squamous epithelial cells.

So I hypothesize that the charge is connected to their powers.

So, for all intents and purposes,

it could render the aliens powerless.

Human.

But, I mean, it could do a lot worse, too.

I don't know how much of their function

is connected to this charge, so...

I don't exactly have an alien mouse colony to test.

I mean, it doesn't matter. The truth is

I never planned on using the serum anyway.

I was just...

writing an angry letter with no intention of sending it.

Hey, Sarge.

Alex, I don't know what you think you're doing here,

but it is not a good idea.

It is not safe for you.

So, for your own good, you need to leave

and never come back to this place, you understand me?

Well, I was kind of hoping that we could go grab a beer.

We could talk about the family legacy.

Jim Valenti.

And, um, oh, yeah,

aliens.

I have a busy schedule.

I don't have time to discuss science fiction with you.

All right. Tried to be polite.

The doctors think that combining the pills with the wine

caused a psychotic break.

Who knows?

Just Noah.

Bridge club is safe.

Eh.

While I was at the hospital,

they kept asking me about a family medical history.

I didn't know what to say.

It got me thinking about the past though.

Well, I never needed to worry about that.

You never got sick.

Ever.

When you brought Isobel and I home,

I know we didn't speak any English or Spanish at the time.

But do you remember anything else?

Like, was there something we said

or some way that we communicated?

You never spoke. Ever.

And I was worried.

But I swore that you and Isobel knew

what the other was thinking, always.

At least I knew you weren't lonely.

And then, all of a sudden,

you both started to talk.

And it was as if you'd been observing,

waiting to learn the entire language

before uttering a single word.

Does this mean anything to you?

I'm trying to figure out if it's from some early memory

or something I saw before you found us.

Why?

I don't know. It's just...

It's been on my mind, I guess.

When we visited the foster home,

you and Isobel were huddled in a corner, crying.

And the other boy in the home had taken a red marker

and had drawn this all over the walls.

Obsessively.

That poor boy.

He needed special attention.

A wealthy family that could give him everything he needed.

And, Lord...

I hope he found it.

You killed Rosa Ortecho.

Yes.

Some broken things can't be fixed.

And some just shouldn't.

I can make you a new sign.

If I wanted a new sign, I'd say, "Guerin, I need a new sign."

But instead, I said, "Guerin, fix the broken thing."

It's gonna cost ya.

Pay your bar tab.

Sign repairs.

Free-99. One day only.

Oh. I'll call you

when you can get it. Eh, just bring it by the bar.

I'm not giving you my number.

I don't want

your number.

Please tell me you're not sleeping with Maria.

Never.

What are you doing here?

Does this mean anything to you?

Yeah. It's your tattoo.

Wyatt Long was drawing it after Grant Green's murder.

He claims he was just scribbling.

But it's got to have some connection to me.

Right? According to my mom,

you were a little terror at the group home,

drawing it all over the walls after we were found.

So it's got to have some connection to us, right?

Maybe it was something we saw somewhere... (sighs)

before the crash.