Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel. Blah blah blah.
Authors Note: I had such an uproar from the first story I figured, "What
the hell?" So here is the sequel I hope will quench your thirst.
Summary: Don't know yet, makes it a bit of a surprise.
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Max shivered from the chills that danced along her spine. She was scared,
though unwilling to admit it. After all, it had been a week since the
destruction of Manticore and her body had finally begun to heal itself from
the insistent torture from the Shock Wave.
A car horn honked outside of her clouded window of the 'vacant' apartment building.
Max still clutched her arms tightly around her bent legs, her chin resting on the tops of her knees, her long brown hair cascading around her shoulders all the while her bright almond eyes were wide and white with alertness. She couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep. If she allowed herself to drift, she would only find herself once again in the clutches of the now deceased Renfro and the sound of her own heart. Zac's heart. Then when she awoke from her nightmares Max knew she would only find herself re- living those horrific months again through her current life. She had work in the morning. Normal didn't bother asking about her bizarre entrance into Jam Pony. He thought it was a prank, let him think it.
Her beeper set off. It moved on the well-worn dresser just in front of her. She watched the tiny box moved and make a definite hum, screaming for her to answer the call. She wasn't going to. She already knew who it was. Logan. It was Logan, they had not even talked since the night Manticore blew apart into a million pieces and shrapnel. She didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want him to even talk to her about those past months at Manticore. Max was too afraid, Cindy understood and although she didn't like to. Cindy didn't bother to try and understand her best friends fear. More than just the Shock Wave therapy had taken place but Max wasn't willing to remember or even accept that just yet.
Her clear painted nail scraped along a spidery scar that had begun to fade along her forearm. Her eyelashes fluttered as her gaze drifted towards the alarm clock that sat on her windowsill. The bright red numbers blinked keeping improper time due to the black out that had taken place that morning.
How had this happened? How did she let herself become such a mess? Such a charity case, something that Max hated most of all. Logan treated her like some sort of fragile glass that could crack and shatter into grain at the slightest touch. Cindy, though allowing Max her space, allowed too many awkward silences to pass in between their once usual conversations. Max didn't feel herself, she felt as though she was in a different skin. She continued to ponder this trying to understand what to do next.
How could she go back to her rough and tough self? That sarcastic, sadistic, menacing chick that only looked out for herself and no one else? May be that was part of the problem. She actually did care and only told herself she didn't so that no emotional attachement could be made. What if somehow Manticore came back? What if she was caught again? Cindy? Or even. Logan? The man who was Eyes Only? What would Manticore do to such a secret once it is revealed? Max shuddered to even think of the possibilities. She was only 20 and already had become wise by ways that no soldier or norm should ever have to. Her dignity had been stolen, her esteem was crushed, her ego was only a shell to keep herself hidden from the world, and her feelings all seemed the same. Fear or numb.
The sky was now tinged with orange. Sunrise. Max rose from her springy mattress and began to look for clean clothes to wear.
A car horn honked outside of her clouded window of the 'vacant' apartment building.
Max still clutched her arms tightly around her bent legs, her chin resting on the tops of her knees, her long brown hair cascading around her shoulders all the while her bright almond eyes were wide and white with alertness. She couldn't sleep, wouldn't sleep. If she allowed herself to drift, she would only find herself once again in the clutches of the now deceased Renfro and the sound of her own heart. Zac's heart. Then when she awoke from her nightmares Max knew she would only find herself re- living those horrific months again through her current life. She had work in the morning. Normal didn't bother asking about her bizarre entrance into Jam Pony. He thought it was a prank, let him think it.
Her beeper set off. It moved on the well-worn dresser just in front of her. She watched the tiny box moved and make a definite hum, screaming for her to answer the call. She wasn't going to. She already knew who it was. Logan. It was Logan, they had not even talked since the night Manticore blew apart into a million pieces and shrapnel. She didn't want to talk to him, she didn't want him to even talk to her about those past months at Manticore. Max was too afraid, Cindy understood and although she didn't like to. Cindy didn't bother to try and understand her best friends fear. More than just the Shock Wave therapy had taken place but Max wasn't willing to remember or even accept that just yet.
Her clear painted nail scraped along a spidery scar that had begun to fade along her forearm. Her eyelashes fluttered as her gaze drifted towards the alarm clock that sat on her windowsill. The bright red numbers blinked keeping improper time due to the black out that had taken place that morning.
How had this happened? How did she let herself become such a mess? Such a charity case, something that Max hated most of all. Logan treated her like some sort of fragile glass that could crack and shatter into grain at the slightest touch. Cindy, though allowing Max her space, allowed too many awkward silences to pass in between their once usual conversations. Max didn't feel herself, she felt as though she was in a different skin. She continued to ponder this trying to understand what to do next.
How could she go back to her rough and tough self? That sarcastic, sadistic, menacing chick that only looked out for herself and no one else? May be that was part of the problem. She actually did care and only told herself she didn't so that no emotional attachement could be made. What if somehow Manticore came back? What if she was caught again? Cindy? Or even. Logan? The man who was Eyes Only? What would Manticore do to such a secret once it is revealed? Max shuddered to even think of the possibilities. She was only 20 and already had become wise by ways that no soldier or norm should ever have to. Her dignity had been stolen, her esteem was crushed, her ego was only a shell to keep herself hidden from the world, and her feelings all seemed the same. Fear or numb.
The sky was now tinged with orange. Sunrise. Max rose from her springy mattress and began to look for clean clothes to wear.