Max merely stood there, frozen, too stunned to move. Her face didn't show any emotion. Blankly, she stared past her friends into space.
"Max, boo…"
She stood there, feeling numb and dead, until finally, she lightly moved her head, just a little. No, she thought. What she saw couldn't be true.
"Boo, please… You're scaring me, girl."
"I'm sorry, Max. - Ya' want us to leave? We can take him with us..." As Mole faltered, her wide unseeing eyes found his, boring into them unrelentingly. Was that compassion in the big lizard's eyes? Could it really be?
"Take him with you?" she whispered, her arms slack at her sides. They felt like dead weights. It was odd, really, how she couldn't bring herself to move them - even though she was a soldier. And soldiers - Manticore creatures to boot - didn't show emotions, or nerves. They didn't have feelings. They always functioned. Why, then, didn't she?
"Little Fella!" Max felt Joshua's strong embrace, heard him mutter words she guessed were meant as comfort. But she didn't pay attention to their meaning. Nothing could comfort her now. It was too much. For once, everything was just too much, she had no strength left to pretend she was tough and strong. She wasn't. She watched impassively as Joshua let go of her again, gazing at her sadly. With his touch she felt all warmth leave, too. As coldness washed over her she felt her legs grow weak. Standing got harder by the second, as did tolerating her friends' closeness, their whispering voices, their scared awe.
Suddenly all Max wanted to do was lie down, forget everything. She wanted to pretend that nothing had happened. She wanted to pretend that this was not real, just some PsyOps induced hallucination. Slowly taking a few steps forward at last, she allowed herself to lie down beside him. Ignoring the others, she welcomed the acute sense of loneliness that washed over her.
His body was still warm as she nestled herself against him, her hands fisting his shirt, then softly touching his skin. She couldn't do much damage now. Not anymore. But there was no comfort in that knowledge, either. Yet she didn't cry. She couldn't. She could only press her furrowed brow to his neck and breathe in his scent. She couldn't cry…
No one dared approach Max. They simply stood, waiting, unsure of what to do, how to behave around her. She was not the Max they knew, the strong, indestructible kickass X5 female. They exchanged glances full of worry, fear, sorrow. But she didn't catch those glances. She wouldn't have cared anyway, for her world had shrunk to include nothing but the little - and yet so frighteningly vast - universe of the bed she shared with him. She didn't hear or feel anything but the absence of his breath, and the gradually diminishing warmth of his body next to hers. He had left her, she was alone; and her dreams had died along with him. She was doomed; no hope was left.
She was alone. A wail was threatening to force its way out of her. It was stronger than she was, stronger than her numbness, stronger. It broke out of her at the very moment she suddenly felt someone wrap their strong arms around her body and hold her, gently yet so reassuringly firmly. And finally she found herself being carried away from him, out of the room.
Eventually, some warmth began permeating through her shivering limbs again, and absently, Max grabbed the cotton of the other's shirt, clawed at it, threatening to tear the fabric apart just to feel the warmth underneath, the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart.
"It's alright, Max," she heard him whisper. "You'll be alright."
And although she couldn't believe him then, she knew he would never lie to her. A sob tore through her at that thought, a sound of utter despair. She pressed her face against his chest, hiding there, seeking comfort in the only place she knew she'd ever find it. Where she rather felt than heard him lowly mutter a strangely soothing "I'm here…"
Carrying her out into the world again, head raised in a show of defiance and proud protectiveness, he was there for her. The only one who had known what she had needed.
"I'm with you, Max."
And he was…
ever since watching that one Grey's Anatomy episode in which Denny died I've been wanting to adapt the little Izzie and Alex scene to Dark Angel. I guess this is the outcome…