Now, as Max raced across the city, she fought a tinge of guilt. What if something had happened to Logan? He had more than a few enemies when she met him, and their numbers seemed to be growing by leaps and bounds. And the virus on the news, it was nasty. The reporter had said people were dropping like flies. Max berated herself, blaming her own preoccupations that had led her to completely forget about Logan. As she urged even more speed out of her Ninja, she whispered under her breath, "Please be OK, Logan, please be OK."
Five minutes later Max pulled up in front of Logan's building. She parked quickly and ran for the door, stiff armed it open and was in the elevator before the doorman had even made it out of his seat. The elevator seemed to take forever, crawling up through the innards of the building. Max tapped her foot impatiently, shifting her weight from one hip to the other. Finally, the doors slid open to the penthouse. Max leaped across the hallway and knocked heavily on the door.
"Logan? Logan! It's me, Max. Open the door."
She waited a moment. Knocked again, harder. Nothing.
Pressing her ear against the door, Max focused intently, letting instinct take over. She heard Logan breathing inside, but he sounded strange. Raspy and irregular.
Max took a step back from the door, "Last chance Logan, open the door.....or I'll do it for you!".
She cocked her head, listening.
"OK, here I come."
One well placed kick later, Max was inside. She headed down the dark hallway, her eyes adjusting automatically to the lack of light. As she entered the living room she scanned left, then right. There, almost hidden behind the couch, was a huddled form. Logan.
Max dropped to her knees next to Logan, turning him onto his back. His breath rattled in his throat, and his face was deeply flushed. Max laid her hand across his forehead, gasping at the heat that came off of him in waves. He was burning up, unconscious.
"Logan," Max whispered, "Logan, can you hear me? It's Max....."
He groaned and twisted in Max's arms, pushing feebly against her.
"OK, big boy, upsy-daisy," Max murmured as she scooped him up, "let's get you into bed."
She carried him through the apartment, cradling him like a baby. Logan's eyes fluttered and he gazed up at Max.
"......Mom?" he whispered, "Oh. Mom, I'm so tired....I feel sick."
Max smiled down at him, "It's OK, Logan. You've got a fever. You'll be all better soon, I'll take care of you. Just rest now, OK?".
"....OK, Mom..."
Max kicked open the door to Logan's bedroom and laid him on the bed. She looked down at him, sprawled helplessly across the covers, muttering under his breath as he drifted in and out of unconsciousness. He was soaked in sweat, his clothes sticking to him. Max wrinkled her nose, she could smell the sickness oozing out of his pores.
"OK, big boy," she said as she lifted him again, "change of plans. Let's get you cleaned up before bed. Then we'll see what you've got hidden in that medicine cabinet of yours."
Logan flung his arms around her neck as they entered the bathroom, Max juggling him with one arm as she switched on the light. She laid him out on the rug, started the bath water running and stripped him down. Max paused for a moment, considering how appalled Logan would be once he found out what exactly Max had done for him, "Won't you be embarrassed," she cooed, and then with a giggle she scooped him up and deposited him into the bathtub.
Max washed Logan quickly, cradling his head in the crook of her elbow. Logan groaned and muttered under his breath, mostly gibberish, but Max caught a few words. Something about water...and his parents.
Max pricked her ears, straining to hear what Logan was saying, but his words trailed away. Sighing, she pulled Logan from the tub and toweled him dry. Back in the bedroom, Max slid him into bed and pulled the covers up to his neck. She looked down at Logan, his wet hair sticking out in every direction, he looked so different without his glasses, defenseless. Max stroked his cheek lightly, feeling the stubble rough on her fingertips.
"Whoa, girl," Max thought, "get a hold on yourself! First things first."
She stepped back, took a deep breath to clear her head and trotted off to raid the medicine cabinet. In the bathroom Max opened the linen closet off to the right of the sink, she let out a low whistle as she took stock of Logan's own private field hospital.
"Boy is seriously stockpiled for the next twenty years! He's got everything in here...guess you have to be prepared if you're gonna be a save-the-planet-freedom-fighter-kinda-guy." Max began to scan the labels, looking for anything that might help.
In the bedroom, Logan was shivering violently, tossing his head from side to side. Suddenly he rose up onto his elbows, his eyes darting around the room. He was seeing everything and yet nothing.
"....Mom? Mom, where are you?" he called mournfully, "Mom? I need you..."
Max trotted out of the bathroom, carrying a box full of meds and a glass of water. She placed the water on the nightstand and dropped the box to the floor. Logan's gaze locked onto Max and relief flooded his face, he reached out and grasped her hand.
"Mom....thank God....what's...wrong with me? I feel...strange."
Max looked deep into Logan's eyes, his pupils were dilated and she knew he wasn't seeing her at all, rather a scene from his past. She placed a cool hand on his forehead and wondered how to respond. Logan gripped her hand tighter and pulled her down on the bed next to him.
"Mom, I had a terrible dream. We were out on the boat...you, Dad, me and Gwen. We hit something and the boat started to sink. I tried to save you, but everything happened so fast! Dad was trapped on board, I never saw him once the boat went down. It was just the three of us in the water and the waves were getting bigger. I gave you my life jacket and tried to keep us all together, but the waves...they were too powerful. You were ripped out of my hands and I couldn't follow you. I had to help Gwen keep her head above water....help her fight the waves. She was so little, Mom, and the surf was so big, she was only eight years old. By morning, she was sitting so low in the water...something was wrong with her life vest...it wasn't holding her up as well. Out of nowhere this rogue wave came up...it must've been 25 feet tall...it broke right on top of us and she was gone....." Logan stopped, tears filling his eyes. Then he screamed, "But it wasn't a dream, was it? It really happened, you're really gone! I couldn't save any of you! I tried so hard to save you all, but I failed! Why did I survive? I didn't have a life jacket, I couldn't swim as well as you...it should've been me! I was left all alone!" Logan began to sob, shaking.
Max sat there stunned, she had always wondered what had happened to Logan's family. He would never open up to her, tell her the truth. He always avoided the question. She leaned forward and gathered him into her arms, rocking him like a baby.
Slowly, she stroked his hair and whispered, "It's OK, Logan, you did everything you could. It's all right, just let it go...it's not your fault."
Logan shook his head, "If not mine, then whose? If I couldn't save you, then I should've died with you. It wasn't an hour after that bastard wave took Gwen that the Coast Guard arrived. We had drifted from our last known position, otherwise they would've been there sooner. They could've saved Gwen! She didn't deserve to die like that! She was so small..."
Max held Logan tighter, she felt a lump in her throat, amazed that he had kept such a deep hurt bottled up inside, that he hadn't shared it with her.
"Shhh, Logan." Max said, "It's going to be all right. I'm here with you, I won't leave you all alone."
She lay him back onto the pillows and leaned over, rummaging through the box on the floor. She came up with a cold compress and a handful of antibiotics. Popping a few of the pills into Logan's mouth, she brought the glass of water to his lips and commanded him to drink. He choked down the pills and lay back, panting. Max lay the compress across Logan's forehead and sat there, gazing down at him. She felt such conflicting emotions about Logan. Part of her needed him so badly, but another part was so afraid. She had been trained at Manticore to never need anyone else, that it was weak to need anyone. But she couldn't lie to herself much longer, Logan filled a void in her that she never realized existed.
"You better not even think of dying on me, Logan Cale, or I'll bring you back from the dead just to kick your ass!" Max whispered fiercely, but then she grew more serious, "Hey God? Or Ja, Buddha, whoever is driving the bus up there...please don't take this guy from me. Ok? I've had to leave people behind before, and I've been left behind. But don't take this one, OK? Please..."
Logan's breathing had evened, deepened, he was asleep. Max never needed to sleep, but she felt drained from worry. Lifting the covers, she slid into bed next to Logan, snuggling close against him. She could still feel the heat coming off him, but it didn't seem as intense as it had earlier. Max draped her arm over Logan and closed her eyes, willing him to heal, to recover.
A few hours had passed. Max opened her eyes to find Logan staring down at her with a sad look on his face, his eyes still unfocused. She opened her mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, but Logan pressed his index finger to her lips.
"You know," he began, heaving a deep sigh, "I just don't think this is going to work out. I mean, I still love you as a person, but for the last year, things have just gotten worse."
Max had no idea what he was talking about. A year? She had only known him for a few months.
"Your drinking has gotten worse and I'm afraid for us both. We can't go on like this..." Logan continued.
"Oh man," Max thought, "he thinks I'm his ex!"
"I know losing the baby was especially hard on you...but I have feelings too. I tried to be there for you, but you just pushed me away. I think we should just go our separate ways."
Max slipped from the bed, reeling from the shock of his confession. Logan had once been a father.
"You know," she said, "I think you're right. I'll just go now."
As Max left the room, she glanced back in time to see Logan hit the pillows again, out cold. She trotted into the kitchen, opened a can of soup and poured it into a pan. As she waited for it to heat, Max leaned against the counter and reflected on what a messed up day this had been. She had found out more about Logan in the past few hours than in the preceding four months.
"Everyone has secrets, girl," she whispered to herself, "don't think you're the only one..."
When the soup was ready, she filled a large bowl and returned to the bedroom. Logan was drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering to himself. Max sat on the edge of the bed and stuffed some pillows behind Logan's head. She fed him slowly, spoonful by spoonful, until the bowl was empty. After she cleaned him up it was time for more antibiotics. Logan kept talking in spurts, but it was mostly gibberish, nothing made sense. Max pressed the cold compress against his forehead and curled up next to him, waiting for something to happen...afraid for something to happen.
When Max next opened her eyes, the sun was just peeking through the clouds. She looked over to Logan, lying next to her, and was surprised to see him staring back at her. He looked so intense, she didn't know what to think.
"You scare me," he said, "down to the depths of my soul. I've never known anyone like you, and I'm afraid. But it's not what you think...I'm not afraid because you could kill me with one hand and not even break a sweat. I'm not afraid because you're not entirely human. I'm afraid because here you are, a highly trained, genetically altered killing machine, and you're here, with me, surrounded by penicillin and chicken soup. I'm afraid because I think you love me as much as I love you. And if I ever lost you, if you ever had to run from here...then I think I would die without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I'm afraid you'll say no..."
Max cracked half a smile, her heart swelling in her chest, daring to hope for a moment. But then she realized it must be the fever talking. She reached for Logan's shoulder, pushing him back down to the bed.
"Get some rest, big boy, before you flame out. You're burning up and don't know what you're saying..."
But Logan grabbed her hand and pressed it to his forehead.
"Feel that? I'm ok....you made sure of that. I'm completely fine and I know exactly what I'm saying. I meant every word of it, Max. I love you like I've never loved anyone before...and never will again. I'll love you forever...just stay with me, Max. There's so little joy in this world anymore, you have to take it where you find it...and I've found it in you."
He leaned down and kissed her deeply, slowly. Max responded, her arms coming up around his neck, as she kissed him back. Logan realized that she was crying as she murmured against his lips...
"Yes, Logan...I'll stay with you. I love you, too. I have since I first met you, I just didn't know what this feeling was. I love you, Logan....I love you...."
They held each other, whispering together, kissing, making plans as the sun slowly brightened the room. It was going to be another beautiful day....