This is a start I guess...
Gone to ground – that's what Alec had done all those months ago: he had gone to ground. Once Mole had suggested it – no, had demanded it – they had all done just that. Given the option, not one of them had remained behind with Max. Not one of them had stayed in Seattle, in that nuclear wasteland known as Terminal City, the only friggin' place in which they had been allowed to stay, in which they had been relatively safe.
Staying had not really been an option; Terminal City had not been a home at all.
Max; he thought of her every once in a while, wondered whether she was doing alright, whether Logan was still with her. He asked himself how the others were faring, Joshua, Mole, Dix, Gem, OC, Sketch. Heck, he even thought of good old Normal sometimes.
But he had left all that behind a long time ago. If Max could see him right now, she'd probably kick his ass and tell him that he had screwed up big time. He'd have laughed, or at least chuckled to himself a little if his face hadn't been so battered.
Here he was, half standing, half sitting in a phone booth, trying to avoid shards of glass from the bashed-in windows that were littering the ground beneath him, blinding him whenever he tried to focus his wandering stare on them. With one hand he was still trying to staunch the flow of blood that was running freely from that grisly wound which was now thankfully hidden beneath the soaked-through clammy fabric of his shirt. But with his other, free hand he was already grabbing for the receiver.
Oh yes, he was screwed. He was so screwed.
He fought to stifle a cry of pain, making it a clipped sound escaping his cracked lips when he bent forward a little to punch in the only number he could think of dialing at a moment like this. He was only half aware of the tears running down his burning cheeks, but he wouldn't have cared anyways. He felt too desperate, too scared. Too alone. And there didn't seem to be any other option than this call, even though he really didn't want to make it.
He didn't.
But she was his only chance. She had always been his only chance, the one to save him…
Maybe her world needed some outward influence right now, something to alter its course. Something that would unhinge her world, or at least her plans for the night… Alec hoped so, because if not—if she just hung up on him (and could he blame her?) he'd be even more screwed than he already was.
He'd be dead in no time. Like a thread in the story of her life that had lain neglected for too long and finally been dropped…
It was odd how he heard the tinny beep beep of the line echoing in his cloudy mind and at the same time couldn't, for the life of him, seem to hear his own ragged breathing. Maybe that was because all his senses seemed to focus in on nothing but the tiny world he was holding in his hand then, a world he might just be about to catapult himself back into. If only he could fight the creeping unconsciousness long enough to actually say something.
Speak to her…
"Josh, I told you I'm already on my way. With Chinese Take Out, just like you wanted. And a movie—two movies actually, I even brought the one you suggested, Fluke or something, was it? Come on, big guy, I'm making an effort here, okay?"
"Max?" A whisper. A damn whisper was all he managed to get out. Inwardly, he cursed himself; only inwardly, non-verbally, because even that simple whispered name seemed to have drained half his remaining strength from his tired body.
Maxie… It was so good to hear her voice. And what she said… so her, so Max. It was only now that he finally heard her speak again that he realized how achingly he'd actually missed her. He had to try again. And with yet a little more effort he managed to croak out her name in a somewhat more audible fashion.
"Patience is key, Big Guy. I shouldn't be more than five minutes now, alright? And yes, I do know I'm late; but you won't hear me apologize for what seems to be the gazillionth time already, alright? I'm coming. And your calling me every other minute won't speed up the process. At all. Josh…"
And suddenly he could hear her think.
Thank goodness.
"—Joshua?..." He could practically see the frown crossing the otherwise smooth skin of her forehead, could see her pout in annoyance. "Okay, who is this? Logan, if that's you: not funny. And if it's some weird sicko calling me: you can keep your heavy breathing to yourself because I'm going to hang up now, asshole."
"No!" Alec suddenly blurted out, the short word straining him enough to make his lungs feel like they were on fire, causing his breath to come out in a choked and painful cough. He felt his vision swim and blur, then nearly fade, and it was only the hand clinging to the darn receiver which kept him grounded, helped him hang on to consciousness.
Don't make her hang up, he prayed. Don't make her hang up on me before…
And suddenly he heard the dawning of understanding in her voice as she quietly whispered in an only half believing tone of voice, "Alec?"
More?
