As I sit at on my bed gazing out the window at Seattle's ever present rain my mind is racing with the events of this past weekend. I replay them over and over trying to make sense of what happened and, more importantly, what I learned about myself.
My life today is nothing I would have expected ten years ago. I grew up with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth, a child of privilege and wealth.
Add to that, the fact that I was gifted with looks that girls (and later women) seem to love, as well as some measure of athleticism and you can imagine what I was like. Looking back I don't like or respect that person too much. Spoiled and arrogant certainly apply, as do self centered and uncaring about other's feelings.
I graduated Yale with ease and was set to go into my family's business where I would have no doubt followed in my uncle's footsteps. I can see myself married to a Seattle society beauty with the requisite affairs on the side. Not a pretty picture.
I have to thank the Pulse for changing me and saving me from what I now know would have been a sterile and unhappy life. True my family as a whole survived the Pulse with most of their fortune intact but my immediate family circle – father, mother and sister didn't.
Left alone at 22 I turned to my college friends to replace the family I had lost and found a whole new world and new self. Unlike my family, my best friend's family lost all they had and he was forced to come to grips with the new world order that emerged. Not only did he become a strong activist against what was happening to our country but he pulled me along with him. I learned about real life in the trenches and became dedicated to using my financial resources and hacking skills to do what I could to make things better.
The Pulse gave me a cause and a raison'd'etre.
That alone might not have been enough – after 5 years of an underground life style I was beginning to tire of our lack of progress when my friend was betrayed by someone he trusted implicitly. He vanished one day and I never did see him again alive. Rumors of police death squads were always around and I believe he was the victim of one but I have never been able to find the conclusive proof of exactly who was involved.
In a way that search for proof led to the creation of Eyes Only. I decided that I had had enough of living the underground life so took my resources and bought my apartment in Foggle Towers. Ostensibly I was another society dilettante – playing at being a journalist but living an essentially useless life. One benefit I found was that I had access to those in the high levels of our new society and I began to pick up tidbits of information here and there. I also met Valerie and, mistaking loneliness and lust for love, rushed into marriage with her.
That was a royal screwup and I came out of that feeling even more cynical about women and what they wanted from me – my money first and then my looks. It was right after the breakup that I threw myself into Eyes Only and began my broadcasts. Women to me became one of two things – an outlet for my sexual drives or informants in my crusade.
I probably would have gone on that way indefinitely if Max hadn't crashed into my apartment and my life. When I first saw her standing there that night my only thought was that she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I wanted her in my bed and soon, and I had no doubt I would get her there. Then she blew me away by diving out of that window. I immediately saw her usefulness to Eyes Only and that became my excuse for finding her.
I had my suspicions about what she was from the first but in my typical arrogance I played on the mutual attraction between us to find her barcode. It would have better if I had been honest with her but at the time I was so sure of myself and so cynical about women that any thought of a relationship with one was the farthest thing from my mind. I planned on using Max's skills for my crusade while at the same time satisfying my lust for her body. I'm not proud of that, but I'm trying to be honest with myself now.
Who knows, if I hadn't been shot that might have very well happened. Max tries to be very tough – this badass chick - but she is in reality extremely vulnerable. She's never had a family and never been loved and cherished the way I was. She is crying out for love and she would have been an easy target. Case in point – that night in front of the mirror I had her number. It would have been easy to dazzle her and play her along right into my arms and my bed. Thank God I wanted her for Eyes Only as well. If I had done what I planned she would have ended up hurt and I would have gone on my merry way unknowing and uncaring about what I had done.
Instead I ended up in this wheelchair but I have Max in my life. Perhaps because she feels a kinship with me (her genetic defects, my disability) she has opened up to me in ways I doubt she has ever done for anyone else in her life. I have gotten to know the vulnerable little girl inside the genetically engineered soldier, the one who is desperate to love and be loved. I have seen her fierce loyalty to her friends and her willingness to sacrifice herself for them. She puts me to shame sometimes which is why I lash back at her. Here I am, the spoiled rich boy who never lacked for love, who has done his share of using and discarding people. Here she is, the little girl raised to be a cold uncaring soldier, who has overcome that to become a loving and giving woman.
Most importantly, somehow, by some miracle, she cares about me. She came back and saved my life in the hospital after the way I treated her over the barcode. Then afterwards she came back again using the excuse of finding her siblings but in reality I think it was because I had become one of her "boos" someone she feels responsible for and looks after. She has saved my worthless life over and over again, at the hotel, in the hospital after the operation, with the mob and most recently after the Dr. Vertes fiasco. Mrs. Marino gave me pause but I think I still would have done it if Max hadn't come back.
When she threw herself at me and hugged me I realized how much I mean to her. I also realized how much she means to me. If I had pulled that trigger it would have been Max who found me, Max who was left to pick up the pieces and grieve over me. I realized all of that in that moment and knew I couldn't do that to Max. She has had enough pain in her life and even in my own self absorption I knew I couldn't be the one to give her more. I knew I had to survive this and come through this for Max.
Even with my good intentions it has been hard. I knew after the episode with the Red soldiers when I almost lost her that I wanted Max to be mine in more than a physical sense (although I want that too). I didn't dare to dream I could ever have her until her blood kicked in and I was able to walk again. For a few short days I had so many dreams about how I was going to win her over to me. I dreamed of our one kiss and thought about how good it would be to kiss her again without a car door in between us and with me standing and holding her in my arms. I dreamed of dancing with her and hiking with her and sharing all the little moments of life with her in every way.
To have those dreams within my grasp only to lose them again is what drove me to think of suicide. Max saved me but I am still bitter about my loss. I know she cares about me as more than just a friend, but I am afraid to push it now. If she has to run I can't go with her in this chair and I don't want her to stay and endanger herself over me. Bad enough if I am only her friend, if anything more happens between us she would never leave even to save herself.
Those feeling were why I tried to cancel our weekend trip. Max has made it clear she is willing to move things along but I am trying to be unselfish and do what is best for her. A weekend alone with her in my family's cabin would tempt a saint and I am no saint.
Haven seemed safe enough – I would concentrate on my research and Max could make her S'mores. Little did I know.
My mission turned into a bust but Max found her own crusade. A little boy who was hurting inside like her. True to her nature Max set out to help him only to bring down
disaster on our heads. Imagine my panic when I knew they were coming to kill us and Max was in no shape to do anything. I am proud of myself that she had no idea how scared I was at that moment. Even when Sage and I were setting the traps it seemed unreal. Up until I blew away that first guy with the propane tank I wasn't sure if I could actually go through with it.
What gave me the strength was two things – first and foremost Max lying helpless in that bedroom and second Herman's words to me. I finally understood what he meant - when it came down to defending what was most important in my life it truly was "kill or be killed". For myself I might not have gone through with it but for Max I had no choice.
So now I am a killer. I have the blood of four lives on my hands. It isn't easy for me to live with but I have the consolation of knowing that when it counted I came through for Max. Maybe I'm not such a helpless cripple as I thought and just possibly there will be some kind of future for us.
She's taken to coming by at night when she thinks I'm sleeping. We have dinner together most nights and play some chess or listen to music and then she leaves either to meet her friends at Crash or for one of her vigils on the Space Needle. But since Haven she has been coming back every night, late, letting herself in with the key I gave her and coming to my room to look down at me. Sometimes she reaches down and brushes my cheek or my hair. I always wake when she arrives – I seem to have a sixth sense where she is concerned, but so far I haven't let her know I am awake and aware of her being there.
She should be here soon and I am trying to decide what I should do. Maybe tonight I will open my eyes when she touches me. Maybe I will reach up and pull her to me. I want to taste her lips again and I want to feel her in my arms, her body pressed up against mine.
Maybe I will be able to walk again someday. Maybe it isn't so hopeless between us as I thought. Maybe…