Disclaimer: okay ummm.. I wish I owned dark angel but unfortunately, I
don't. Fox and a bunch of other stupid people do. Damn them.
Rating: PG13 - for mild swearing and such
Spoilers: Hello, Goodbye and maybe some others before that
Pain, Doubt, Fate, and Love
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All Logan could feel was the pain. He couldn't feel the how tired he was, or how hard the floor felt beneath him.
He laid there, barley conscious from all the alcohol he had drunk, but he didn't care. He didn't care about the countless amount of glasses and bottles he had dropped, he didn't care about the pain in his fingers from cutting himself on the shards they had produced, and he didn't care about the ringing in his ears.
He couldn't hear the ringing anyway, all he could hear was her voice, telling him those words.
"I can't"
She couldn't tell him the things he so desperately wanted to hear. She couldn't tell him that Alec was still just an annoying co-worker and a fellow transgenic, and not her lover.
She couldn't tell him that she wanted him, as he wanted her. She couldn't tell him that she needed him, as he needed her. She couldn't tell him that she loved him, as he loved her.
He could lose all his senses in his drunken haze, but he could not lose his bitter doubt. He could not lose that feeling about himself that had been there since he had been shot in the back that fateful day.
The Fates lead her to him, but fate had made him broken. Fate had shot him in the back, making her come back to him.
Fate had given him her, and in return it took away half of him. But much more then his legs had been lost, his confidence was gone and doubt had stepped in to take its place.
Sometimes it didn't feel like a fair trade. There were times when she wasn't around where he would sit in his chair drinking, staring out his giant windows and damning all of existence for the bad hand in life that he had been dealt.
But then she would silently creep up behind him. He wondered what she saw in the moments before she spoke, did she see a crippled man sitting, drinking and feeling sorry for himself, or did she see the majestic Eyes Only in his private moment of darkness. He never knew how long she would stand behind him, and she would never tell him. She'd just make her presence known and demand to be waited on. He would never deny her, he might grumble about it, but he would always obey her, wheeling himself to the kitchen or to the office, wherever she wanted him to go.
She kept him going. Even with her own darkness that she surrounded around herself, she was his light, his reason.
Then it seemed like a fair trade, he knew he would suffer a thousand shootings then go through life without her.
But then when fate took her away from him the doubt and the pain stayed, along with whole new pain and a whole new doubt. The doubt that he would ever love again was there, the doubt that he would ever be truly happy again was there, the doubt that he would ever meet a person that could ever compare to Max was there. Not that he even wanted to have or be those things again, not without her. Fate took her away several times. When she left him so did happiness, and cheerfulness, and life. When she left he was depressed and lonely, and only when came back did he ever feel whole, or as close to whole as a paraplegic man could feel.
But then, after he thought he had lost her forever fate brought her back to him once again, only to tear her away. Her own doubt and pain making her stay away, or because of something that was completely out of her control.
The bastard virus.
He wanted to hate her. He wanted to hate her for deceiving him, hurting him, for being with Alec; but he knew that he could not. He would always love her, even when she loved another man, and even when his heart ached at the thought of it. It started to ache the moment he saw first Alec's arm around her, and it hadn't stopped since. He wished he had never seen it, and then it might not be so hard. If he hadn't seen it then he at least wouldn't have that mental picture of them together flashing in his mind over and over.
He hated the thought of her being with Alec, whom she had so often complained about. She had often told him about what a "man-whore" Alec was, and he had always chuckled at her joke and listen intently to a story explaining why she was so angry at him.
Now Logan wondered if those stories had left out parts. He wondered if part of the reason she was angry at Alec was because most of time he would nearly get himself killed, and she was worried about him hurting his pretty face.
Logan knew what kind of guy Alec was; he had been that kind of guy once. Alec was a player; he went through women, leaving them hurt and alone. Logan would kill him if he hurt Max. Even if Alec was a genetically- enhanced killing machine, Logan would hurt him so badly if he left her wounded and alone.
In fact as Logan had drunk himself into the stupor he was now in, he had repeatedly thought about all the things he wanted to do to Alec. He wanted to beat the shit out of him, he wanted Alec to suffer all the pain he was now feeling, and he wanted Alec to have the broken heart.
Logan knew that it was cruel, but Alec had taken something precious from him, and Logan could not forgive him..
....yet, as much as Logan hated Alec for taking her away from him, Logan knew that he was a better choice for Max.
Alec could make her happier then he could, Alec could understand her past better then he could, Alex could walk and Alec could touch her.
Logan longed for her touch. He craved for the taste of her lips; he yearned for the feel of her skin against his own. Oh, the things he would give, to be able to kiss her again. He had kissed her so few times, but all the times he had, stuck out in his memory like a sore thumb.
She was like a goddess, something that you worshiped and longed for, but you were never allowed to have.
Look but don't touch; he could look at her beautiful face, but he would never be able to feel it against his palm or face. Even if the virus suddenly disappeared, she had Alec now. Alec had had the sense to get to her before it was too late.
He wanted what Alec now had. He wanted her so badly.
After all he was still a man, even if he often thought of himself as only half one.
There it was again; his injury would always be looming gloomily in the background, and as much as much as Logan wished he wasn't, he was still paralyzed from the waste down. He could wear the exo, but he could not fulfill her needs as Alec or any other non-crippled man could.
Her voice rung in his ears over and over again. "I can't..its over. We're done. Get used to it"
He would never be done loving her, and he would never get used to her loving someone else. It simply wasn't possible.
Rating: PG13 - for mild swearing and such
Spoilers: Hello, Goodbye and maybe some others before that
Pain, Doubt, Fate, and Love
\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\
All Logan could feel was the pain. He couldn't feel the how tired he was, or how hard the floor felt beneath him.
He laid there, barley conscious from all the alcohol he had drunk, but he didn't care. He didn't care about the countless amount of glasses and bottles he had dropped, he didn't care about the pain in his fingers from cutting himself on the shards they had produced, and he didn't care about the ringing in his ears.
He couldn't hear the ringing anyway, all he could hear was her voice, telling him those words.
"I can't"
She couldn't tell him the things he so desperately wanted to hear. She couldn't tell him that Alec was still just an annoying co-worker and a fellow transgenic, and not her lover.
She couldn't tell him that she wanted him, as he wanted her. She couldn't tell him that she needed him, as he needed her. She couldn't tell him that she loved him, as he loved her.
He could lose all his senses in his drunken haze, but he could not lose his bitter doubt. He could not lose that feeling about himself that had been there since he had been shot in the back that fateful day.
The Fates lead her to him, but fate had made him broken. Fate had shot him in the back, making her come back to him.
Fate had given him her, and in return it took away half of him. But much more then his legs had been lost, his confidence was gone and doubt had stepped in to take its place.
Sometimes it didn't feel like a fair trade. There were times when she wasn't around where he would sit in his chair drinking, staring out his giant windows and damning all of existence for the bad hand in life that he had been dealt.
But then she would silently creep up behind him. He wondered what she saw in the moments before she spoke, did she see a crippled man sitting, drinking and feeling sorry for himself, or did she see the majestic Eyes Only in his private moment of darkness. He never knew how long she would stand behind him, and she would never tell him. She'd just make her presence known and demand to be waited on. He would never deny her, he might grumble about it, but he would always obey her, wheeling himself to the kitchen or to the office, wherever she wanted him to go.
She kept him going. Even with her own darkness that she surrounded around herself, she was his light, his reason.
Then it seemed like a fair trade, he knew he would suffer a thousand shootings then go through life without her.
But then when fate took her away from him the doubt and the pain stayed, along with whole new pain and a whole new doubt. The doubt that he would ever love again was there, the doubt that he would ever be truly happy again was there, the doubt that he would ever meet a person that could ever compare to Max was there. Not that he even wanted to have or be those things again, not without her. Fate took her away several times. When she left him so did happiness, and cheerfulness, and life. When she left he was depressed and lonely, and only when came back did he ever feel whole, or as close to whole as a paraplegic man could feel.
But then, after he thought he had lost her forever fate brought her back to him once again, only to tear her away. Her own doubt and pain making her stay away, or because of something that was completely out of her control.
The bastard virus.
He wanted to hate her. He wanted to hate her for deceiving him, hurting him, for being with Alec; but he knew that he could not. He would always love her, even when she loved another man, and even when his heart ached at the thought of it. It started to ache the moment he saw first Alec's arm around her, and it hadn't stopped since. He wished he had never seen it, and then it might not be so hard. If he hadn't seen it then he at least wouldn't have that mental picture of them together flashing in his mind over and over.
He hated the thought of her being with Alec, whom she had so often complained about. She had often told him about what a "man-whore" Alec was, and he had always chuckled at her joke and listen intently to a story explaining why she was so angry at him.
Now Logan wondered if those stories had left out parts. He wondered if part of the reason she was angry at Alec was because most of time he would nearly get himself killed, and she was worried about him hurting his pretty face.
Logan knew what kind of guy Alec was; he had been that kind of guy once. Alec was a player; he went through women, leaving them hurt and alone. Logan would kill him if he hurt Max. Even if Alec was a genetically- enhanced killing machine, Logan would hurt him so badly if he left her wounded and alone.
In fact as Logan had drunk himself into the stupor he was now in, he had repeatedly thought about all the things he wanted to do to Alec. He wanted to beat the shit out of him, he wanted Alec to suffer all the pain he was now feeling, and he wanted Alec to have the broken heart.
Logan knew that it was cruel, but Alec had taken something precious from him, and Logan could not forgive him..
....yet, as much as Logan hated Alec for taking her away from him, Logan knew that he was a better choice for Max.
Alec could make her happier then he could, Alec could understand her past better then he could, Alex could walk and Alec could touch her.
Logan longed for her touch. He craved for the taste of her lips; he yearned for the feel of her skin against his own. Oh, the things he would give, to be able to kiss her again. He had kissed her so few times, but all the times he had, stuck out in his memory like a sore thumb.
She was like a goddess, something that you worshiped and longed for, but you were never allowed to have.
Look but don't touch; he could look at her beautiful face, but he would never be able to feel it against his palm or face. Even if the virus suddenly disappeared, she had Alec now. Alec had had the sense to get to her before it was too late.
He wanted what Alec now had. He wanted her so badly.
After all he was still a man, even if he often thought of himself as only half one.
There it was again; his injury would always be looming gloomily in the background, and as much as much as Logan wished he wasn't, he was still paralyzed from the waste down. He could wear the exo, but he could not fulfill her needs as Alec or any other non-crippled man could.
Her voice rung in his ears over and over again. "I can't..its over. We're done. Get used to it"
He would never be done loving her, and he would never get used to her loving someone else. It simply wasn't possible.