A/N: As a fan fiction writer, I have been through many shows in the last six years. This story was originally written by me almost five years ago for another genre, however, when I stumbled across it earlier this evening, I felt that it needed to be reborn in to a Dark Angel fiction.

As usual, they aren't mine, I just like to borrow them sometimes and mutate their inner voices. What can I say? It's fun.

Just so everyone knows, Heat and Cycles 4 has been posted. :) I hope you'll all mosey on over and enjoy. (Lemme be.. they're my fics.. I can use the author note section for any plugging I want. :P)

Thanks to Chris for the great beta job. :P You take the confusion I put on page and make it into a story. :) Thank you. :)

This story is set sometime more than a year past the 1st season finale. Please assume that by this point in time, Logan has been healed physically. Don't worry, this one of the final two Logan's anguish stories that I will write.. for a while. :P I just thought I'd get this out before Max comes home on Friday. :) 3 days, 22 hours, 18 minutes. :P But who's counting? At least not the seconds. *G*



Night Regrets ~ By Danae Bowen

He awoke to the flashing of the neon sign of the motel. Light... blood red. Darnkess. Light.... blood red. Darkness. Over and over again. Vacancy.
He almost choked on how accurate a metaphor it was for his life. His heart and soul were bleeding. The light that had come to him for so short a time was gone.. leaving him with darkness and an overwhelming vacancy that only she could fill.
He longed to see her brilliant smile, her sparkling brown eyes, her dark hair bouncing in curls that had made her look so completely innocent.
And innocent she had been... perhaps not about everything, but about what counted the most. Manticore had not managed to shatter her innocence, but, in the end, they had managed to take her life. For what? Science and war.
Lord how he longed once again to see a new pair of sunglasses shading her soul-penetrating gaze; her off beat clothing announcing to the world that she would not conform; her will to live. He longed to hear her gentle voice, seducing his mind with her sharp wit and pouty tone.
"Logan?"
He longed for Max.
Logan turned to gaze at the dark haired, brown-eyed creature lying in the bed. He sighed and dropped his gaze away, climbing to his feet, fighting his stiffened legs for the proper response. His back remained facing her as he pulled on his pants, his shirt dangling loosely from one hand while he moved across the room. "I'm sorry, Caroline, I didn't mean to wake you."
The young lady shrugged as she arranged the blankets around her body. "Are you thinking of her again?" She paused as his shoulders stiffened. "Of your Max?"
Logan looked back at her. "How do you know of Max?" Tension coursed through his body. The genetically enhanced beauty had been gone more than a year, yet here he was still struggling for control at the mere mention of her name. His face became a calm, silent mask.
Caroline smiled softly, her eyes showing pity for the man who stood before her. "You called out for her in your sleep... Max? Max, are you there?" Her eyes met his. "She never answers does she?"
Logan looked away sadly. "And she never will again."
Caroline frowned. "Was she your lover?"
Logan shook his head softly, his gaze carrying out the window and across the darkened city... **Was she out there? Was she safe? Alone? Making love to another man?** His heart clenched. **Or was she really dead?**
"She was my friend."
"Did you love her?"
Logan sat upon the window-sill, his eyes searching the shadows. Searching for the form he yearned to see just for one moment more of his life. But the shadows remained empty. Caroline shared his bed.. and he had brought her willingly to this. Physically she reminded him of his lost friend, but spiritually, no other woman could compare to Max. This was one reason Logan had repeatedly brought Caroline to a motel rather than to his apartment... there was only one woman he wanted to share his home with, and she was gone forever.
"Yes," he sighed. "I loved her."
He refused to meet her eyes. Caroline never complained about the motel. She never hesitated when it came down to ending the relationship, or her paying for their room. She didn't deserve what Logan was doing to her, but he couldn't help himself.
Caroline's eyes bored into his back. "You are miserable without her."
Logan shrugged, his tone lifeless. "I'm nothing without her."
"Did she love you?"
He smiled, his eyes sparking with rare expression as he turned his thoughts to happier times. "Max loved everyone and no one at the same time. She looked at the world with childlike eyes, even through the pain and darkness she was raised in. She tried to hide it behind sarcasm, but she never could... her eyes always betrayed her heart."
"But did she love you?"
Pause. "I think so."
Caroline ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "Go after her, Logan."
His voice grew cold. "I can't. She's dead.. to the world, and to me."
He rose to his feet and quickly donned his clothing... no matter how hard he tried he could never replace Max. He walked to the door, never looking back at the woman he was leaving. With a hand resting on the door jamb, his soft voice floated over to her.
"I can't do this anymore, Caroline, I'm sorry."
The door shut behind him, and Logan silently made his way home. Once there, he slid into his office, sinking gratefully into his chair as his still undertoned legs wobbled.
He picked up his telephone and stared at the buttons for several long minutes. Finally, with shaking hands, he began to dial the number, searching for contact with the girl that had haunted him every night since he had last seen her.
He waited as the line connected, setting his laptop to trace any reception at the other end.
**Max, are you there?**
But like each night that had come before, Logan received only silence. The phone never rang in response to his page. No sweet beauty dropped from the rafters into his world. No mind numbing laughter, softly whispered words, sharp retorts. He closed the laptop, cutting off the only light illuminating the room. He sat in the darkness without moving, his mind reaching back into the past, holding onto the one thing he had left: his memories.
When Max had died, she had taken with her the light that burned brightly in her soul, the only light that had shone in his life for a long time.
He sighed.
He was so tired.
He was so alone.
Max.

**********

END