Many thanks to Zanna for her beta of this – her suggestions have been invaluable.
Chapter 1Drip…drip…drip…The water dripping is about to drive me insane. Bad enough that I don't need much sleep, but what little I do try to get is negated by the damn water. Chinese water torture. An ancient yet still viable method, obviously. Not that I think it's intentional. Although, if my jailer had an inkling of what it was doing to me, he would make sure it continued.
I sit upright on the mattress I had been curled up on just moments before, after trying in vain to lose myself in the temporary oblivion of sleep. My eyes quickly adjust to the darkness of my prison cell and I assure myself that I am still alone. He hasn't chosen now to make one of his visits to me. It is cold and dank here in this place he is keeping me, but that makes no difference. The walls are solid concrete blocks and he has taken care that I have nothing here I can use to chisel through them as I did at Manticore. He knows what I did there and is taking no chances. The door is solid steel, too strong even for me. It is the one new thing here, installed especially to contain me or one of my kind. I have to believe it wasn't done just for me. That on top of everything else might be the final straw. The little thing that completely undoes what strength and sanity I have left.
I have no idea how long I have been here now. Daylight never reaches this place and I gave up trying to count time by the meals he delivers to me. It could be days or weeks or months. The absence of outside stimuli and its effect on the mind. He has studied the techniques for manipulating the mind of the victim well. But I always knew he was brilliant, so that should be no surprise. Deciding there is no hope of sleeping, I stretch and begin my exercises. I refuse to let my body rot away, as I am afraid my mind is doing, so I try to keep a routine of exercise up. Tai Chi. I need to stay strong and flexible in the event he drops his guard just once and I have an opportunity to escape. I laugh bitterly to myself, thinking that he has dropped his guard almost every time he has visited me, but I have failed to make use of it.
As I finish my exercises, I hear the sounds of my jailer approaching my cell. I straighten and force myself to sit casually on the mattress, the only piece of furniture, if you can call it that, in my cell. I hear the sound of him keying in the code to unlock the door, which then swings smoothly inward on silent hinges.
"Dinner time, Max," his familiar voice states as he places a tray of food on the floor just inside the door. I tried rushing him once when he first did that, only to find myself thrown brutally against the concrete wall, the breath knocked out of me. He is as fast as I am and stronger. I cannot win in a one on one fight. I refuse to answer him and he stands there for a minute, regarding me. Then he shrugs and retreats, closing the door behind him with a soft snick as the locks engage. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, glad this will not be one of the times he stays and engages in his mind games with me. Rising, I walk over and retrieve the food. Nothing there that I can use as a weapon or a tool to escape this place. A sandwich wrapped in paper and juice in a paper cup. He takes no chances with me. I realize that I am starving and wolf down the food, washing it down with the drink. Too late, I realize that the beverage has just a slightly too sweet taste. They hit me swiftly, the waves of drowsiness, and I lay back on the mattress. I feel oblivion overtaking me even as a part of my mind tells me to fight it, that if he wants me to sleep, I must stay awake.
*******
"I love you, Max." I am sitting in an old wreck of a car on a cold Seattle day and Logan is standing there looking down at me, his beautiful eyes full of equal parts love and pain. I try to answer him, but my mouth refuses to work and he walks away without ever hearing my whispered 'I love you, too'.
"You two are perfect for each other and you are going to have a wonderful life…" Mia, the perky transgenic mental manipulator, is smiling at us as she assures us that things will work out someday. I look up to see Logan smiling down at me with all the love in the world in his eyes as we walk out of the fight club together. Then my dream changes and I am standing there petrified as Logan lies unconscious on the floor of Crash, paramedics working frantically on him.
"Tell me it isn't true, Max." He is standing over me. Beautiful eyes full of pain and anguish, breath smelling of the whiskey he has been consuming, begging me to reassure him of my love for him, even though he doesn't say the word again.
"I can't," I whisper. Knowing that it's the only way I can safeguard him from the poison that I have become, I turn and walk away. If I had only known that night what was to come, would I have told him the truth? Told him that I loved him more than life itself? Given him that assurance that might have made all the difference in what was to happen to us? I honestly don't know.
My dream shifts and now Logan is lying on the floor, bloody and unmoving. Chaos is all around, yet I want nothing more than to go to him and cradle him in my arms. I can't. If there is any chance he will live, I mustn't touch him. I feel a hand on my shoulder pulling me away. Joshua.
"We go, Max. Can't stay here."
"No. I won't leave him, Joshua."
Alec strides over from the window he has been peering out of and takes in the situation at a glance. "Go with Joshua, Max. I'll get Logan out of here." I don't move and he gives me a hard look. "I'll do it, Max. I promise. Now go. Or we'll all be dead." When I still don't move, he nods to Joshua. I am taken by surprise as Joshua throws me over his shoulder and runs from the room. I struggle, but the next thing I know, I am somewhere in the sewers. Armageddon has happened while I was unconscious. Alec and Logan are gone, vanished. The transgenics are scattered or dead. Joshua has found us a place deep in the sewer system of Seattle and we hide for days on end. Finally, I venture up to the outside world and find that Seattle has continued on as if nothing has happened. It's as if the transgenics never existed at all. The people go about their lives in the same way they always have. Joshua decides he is leaving. He has had enough of this place and I don't blame him. He wants me to come with him, but I can't leave. So I help him sneak past the sector checkpoints.
In my dream, I retreat to my place of refuge. Logan's penthouse apartment sits as we had left it. The computers are silent and a film of dust coats everything, but other than that it, looks as if he will walk back in at any moment. His leather jacket is hung on the coat rack and his wheelchair sits waiting for him in the corner of the workout room. I lay curled on his bed, clutching a soft blue sweater that I found in his laundry. It smells of Logan and I hug it and cry for what seems like hours. I know now what he meant when he told me it hurt too much to move. I don't ever want to move again. All I want to do is lie here and pretend he will walk in the door anytime.
Now my dream shifts again and I feel strong arms wrapped around me and a hard body pressed up against mine. A hand is tangled in my hair, pulling my face up and as I raise my head, my eyes meet piercing blue ones. Logan lowers his head and our lips meet. For long moments we kiss, mouths open, tongues meeting, drinking in the taste of each other. I raise my hands to his hair and revel in its spiky yet soft texture. His hands are roving over my body as I realize that we are both naked under the soft cotton sheet that covers us. I can feel his arousal hard against my belly and my nipples tingle as they rub against the hard planes of his chest.
"Max," he breathes into my mouth. Our breath mingles as his hands move over me, preparing me for the act to come. I am lost in the feel of him pressed close to me and I let him do as he wills with my body. He is playing me like an instrument. I feel as if I am humming as he finds and stimulates each erotic point that I have. Now his hands, his long strong fingers, have dipped to that point that has become the center of my being. He finds my most sensitive spot and gently plays, bringing me to an even greater peak of tension. I am moving restlessly against him, impatient for completion, while he gently soothes me, whispering against my lips. "Patience, love." He is hard against me and I don't want to wait any more.
"Now, Logan. I want you inside me now." I demand. He dips a finger into me, finding me wet and ready and raises up on his elbows, leaning over me. His knee is between my legs, but I have already rolled onto my back and opened myself for his possession, his urging not needed. Logan moves over me and I put my arms around him, pulling him to me. Then with a swift, strong stroke, he is inside me, filling me. As he comes into me, I jolt into a sudden realization. This is no dream…
"No." I begin to struggle, but it is too late. Logan changes now. No longer the gentle lover of my dream, he is taking me hard. Fucking me is the only way to describe it. I try to fight, but I can't. I don't want to. I am caught up in his possession of me, my traitorous body betraying me to the memory of the man I loved with all of my heart.
The man whose body is still here, joined with mine, taking me to the heights that we never had the opportunity to reach before. The man who has now become my worst enemy, my jailer, my lover, perhaps my executioner. He brings me to climax and I convulse beneath him. He knows my body better than anyone ever has. He continues on for several moments and then reaches his own climax. Finished, he drops heavily onto me.
I lay there with tears rolling down my cheeks, too spent to even push him off of me. Finally, he rolls off on his own and regards me with cold blue eyes. No trace of love or passion left there. I ache with what they have done to Logan, what they have turned him into.
"Why, Logan? Why do you do this to me?" I ask him. I am hoping for some acknowledgement of what we once were to each other. Some tiny shred of hope that the Logan I loved is still there inside of him, trapped much as I am, equally a prisoner. If I can reach him, perhaps we can both find freedom.
"Because you want me to." He offers coldly, sending a knife into my heart with the truth of his words. With that, he rises from the mattress and leaving me there naked and bereft, he walks from my cell, the door closing softly behind him.
***
Authors Note: As you now know, this story is very different from my usual Max/Logan stories. From the first time I watched Dark Angel I was fascinated by the inner psyches of these two characters and spent time trying to figure out what makes them tick and how they might react in certain circumstances. After the episode Hello/Goodbye I started thinking about what could happen if things went on as they had begun in that wrenching scene in Logan's apartment and the "lie" was never cleared up between Max and Logan. That grew into an exploration of the nature of love vs. hate, trust vs. betrayal, and downfall vs. redemption.
Let me be clear that I love the characters of Max and Logan and this is not intended in any way to denigrate those characters. Even the best of us may act poorly under given circumstances. The real test is how one is able to (if one is able to) rise above that behavior and those actions.
Max and Logan by the time of H/G had hurt each other numerous times. My questions are the following. Is there a breaking point, a point of no return when that hurt becomes too great and spirals downward into a mutual journey into the darkness of the human soul? Is it possible once that has happened to find one's way back to the light? Might intense love turn into equally intense hate if that love is betrayed? I'm not sure I know the answers but the journey is an interesting albeit harrowing one for those who are interested in the ride. This story is complete and I will be posting the chapters daily if I am able to, so for those who may be upset by the beginning of it, I only ask that you withhold judgment until you have read the complete work. I am not accepting anonymous reviews on this story – if you have something to say about it I ask that you identify yourself. I have put myself out there in publishing this and I ask the same in return. And if you would like to discuss it with me in more depth feel free to email me.
