As they exited the tunnels Max worried that he might have said something wrong. Elliot had gotten increasingly quite, clamping down again. It would be beat not to push. The night had the feel of incredibly early morning, sometime after midnight but before most people considered it a new day.

Elliot countered his food offer with IHOP and it took him a minute to figure out the intent of Max's joke. Something about seeing it dawn on the green man, and his rebuttle about fighting more in a half an hour broke Max. Blame it on the fighting, or the adrenaline but Max started giggling, honest happy giggles that turned into a deep a full laugh. He tried to stop but looking back at Elliot only made him laugh more. He laughed for a few moments and then took a deep breath and wiped away small tears from the corner of his eyes.

"Sorry man. Long night, got a bit slap happy." He said, his face still in a wide grin.

He started walking, the IHOP was a few blocks away but the idea of pancakes kept him motivated.

"Man kicking ass really works up an appetite," He said, "So what are the other major gangs in the city? Just out of curiosity."

Max found his comment really really funny, and Elliott found himself grinning stupidly at his own joke. It had a real knee slapped, hadn't it? The man apologized, but Elliott waved him off with a laugh.

"Nah, its cool. Sometimes you just need a good laugh." He said. Especially after the drama of the night.

They started walking, and Max made idle conversation about-- gangs. Of all things.

"Way too many," Elliott shook his head. "Russians, Italian mobsters, Yakuza, various actual gangs that aren't boiled down to nationality... anti-mutant groups, mutant groups, anti-mutant mutant groups, Ragnarok. I'd count them off all on one hand but my stupid alien hands only have three fingers." He chuckled about it. He could laugh at himself. And they didn't need all this talk of gangs to be serious, after all the drama. He'd liked the lighter tone. "Alien-hunters." He rattled off one final gang, holding up 1 finger this time.

Elliot talked about all the gangs in vague generalities. Max senses that beneath the surface Elliot knew a lot more about the groups than he was letting on. He didn't press, no point in it, but thought of how great a resource the green man could be. Haven wanted to help the city, of Elliot joined he could give them a plethora of information on those groups which Haven could use to clean up the streets. Cleaning up the streets would help the community and if some of them were anti mutant as Elliot said it would be worth it to take them down.

Max laughed at Elliot's alien hunter remark.

"So are you really a spaceman or is that just a bit? More curious than anything else, just between us." He asked.

The IHOP was in sight now. The front windows streaming light into the street. He took a breath and smelled the scent of baking pancakes and breakfast foods. It smelled like heaven itself.

"God I'm hungry," He said, "I got to say man its never a dull evening when I run into you."

Max laughed, but Elliott had been serious. Serious to drop bait on a dropped conversation and see who bit.

"Yeah," he said. "I am being serious." He replied lightly.

The IHOP came into sight and Max reveled in warm scents of bacon and pancakes and French toast bliss. Elliott smiled at him and his comment briefly, and continued his thought.

"That's what I was getting at earlier," Elliott explained. His face had no wry smile or joking smirk. He was telling the truth, his truth, and doing so honestly. No fiddle farting around. He wasn't joking. It was no bit. But he wasn't glowering either, just telling his tale.

"My adopted parents always said I was special, but before they died in a mysterious car crash, I found an old newspaper article talking about how on the same day I was born, something streaked through the night sky to crash land in a field. Something hollow. Like a spaceship. Or a meteorite. Or maybe an interstellar egg. It set some stuff on fire and the impact crater was huge. Same area I grew up. In Roswell, of all places." Seriously.

"I never got to ask them about it," Elliott frowned. "Car crash happened before I could. But I always thought I was more than just a human. I mean... tall green man with antennae and three fingers on each hand. Inexplicable hand tentacle tongue things." He held his hands up and wiggled the hand tongues in the night air, then retracted them. "Most mutants aren't born green. They turn green. Just seems like it makes more sense if I'm something else."

He shrugged. "Of course, I could be wrong. But I've been stalked and hunted by people who think I'm not. Happens every few years." He shook his head. Then laughed. "So yeah. Never a dull moment."

It was the first time he'd ever shared that story with someone. Hopefully Max would understand. Seeing as how he'd just died and all. Did that make them both otherworldly? Or just two men with more questions than answers.

-Just seems like it makes more sense if I'm something else."

Elliot's story was unique, almost unbelievable. Max had to stop from laughing at himself for that particular thought. Impossible is an illusion. He lived in a world of mutants, it was rediculous to assume that mutants were the only strange thing that could exist in the whole universe. He stopped outside the IHOP doors for a moment to allow Elliot to finish.

-"So yeah. Never a dull moment."

"Your human in every way that counts man. Hell your more human than the people who chase and hunt you." Max replied.

He looked at Elliot and grinned.

"The spaceman and the zombie. Oh what a pair are we." He said.

Max raised a hand and held it up.

"These are just vessels anyway. Doesn't matter what they look like on the outside. Ten fingers or three. White skin or green. All a body does is give you something to use as a way of expressing the mind. People have and will always get way to obsessive over basically what is the wrapping paper on the gift of life " He said.

"And those people can shove it up their ass " He finished a second later.

Max didn't laugh at him. In fact, he seemed incredibly supportive. In fact, it was touching, really. The sort of thing that elicited the warm and fuzzies. The camaraderie of friendship with your fellow man. He thought Elliott was human.

Well, what is humanity, really? 'Not joining a group of bad guys just because the money is good,' he answered himself one beat later. And then he surprised himself with an actual reasonable thought. 'Yeah, but even humans make mistakes.' And he had realized his.

Elliott nodded, a wry smile slipping on his face at the guy's commentary. He'd been right to trust Max enough to share.

Max did end up joking about the situation, in a sled aware way. He followed it up with some zen stuff, but the comment resonated with Elliott. Stuck with him.

Max finished the zen statement with talk of butt stuff, which seemed less zen, and Elliott chimed in, in irreverent kind.

"The spaceman and the zombie," Elliott said dryly. "Why, that sounds like a movie starring Matt Damon. But you're right. With all the metaphysical talk. I meditate too."

Max hadn't said anything about meditation, but it was about spirituality and focusing energies of mind and body. Of handling your vessel. Of learning a balance. And, of acceptance and similarities, in a roundabout way. "I mean... well, that's part of meditation." He hedged weakly. "Realizing we all operate in roughly the same way. Finding the 'balance' between the vessel and the mind. Sorry. What you said made me think of that. Anyways." He jerked his chin towards IHOP. "Care for some greasy bacon and eggs? I know I'm ready!"

Max saw elliot processing what he had said. He saw the smile spread across the green man's face. Max had reached him, if only a little. Max didn't know the guy all that well, but the young man had a good read of people. Elliot was a good guy, he just hadn't realized it for himself yet.

Max laughed at his joke about sounding like a bad Matt Damon movie and notched an eyebrow at the statement on mediation. Elliot seemed to be trying to explain himself but Max shook his head.

"I got you man," He said jabbing a thumb at himself, "Tai Chi. Life is a circle the good and the bad. It takes both to make ya whole." He added.

He looked into the glowing doors of the resturant and inhaled deeply savoring the scent of baking pancakes.

"Let's eat." He said simply heading for the door.

After a near death encounter all he wanted to think about now was what kind of syrup he wanted on his big pile of flapjacks