AN: Thanks to all of you who reviewed the prequel to this story 'Constellations, Confrontations, and Confessions'. This sequel is dedicated to those who asked for it. Hope it meets your expectations and that all of you who read it enjoy.

Proven

By Aranel du Lac

I. Handicap

The cabin seemed much smaller after that night. Oh, so much smaller. Max avoided Alec, her zeal only adding salt to the wound of rejection left on his X5 heart. Alec tried to make it easier by making himself scarce – not only for her sake but for his own as well. If he looked at her, listened to her - damn! if he so much as smelled her - he was sent grappling for control over his tumbling emotions and animalistic impulses, something that didn't help their situation. It was like walking on eggshells, and, despite his cat DNA, Alec did not have the lightest of footsteps when it came to relationships.

Why does the universe hate us X5s? He wondered just as Max came in the door bearing four bulging brown bags, keys dangling from her mouth, as she struggled to close the door while balancing her awkward load. Alec remained where he was, sprawled on the couch with a book - still on the same page as an hour ago - unsure of whether to help or not, given the static energy that increased upon the female transgenic's arrival. But one look from Max, her eyes telling him 'move your ass and help me', had him jumping over the back of the sofa to grab one of the bags before she dropped it.

With a smirk that couldn't be helped, he plucked the keys out of her mouth.

"Have fun at the store?" he quipped, heading for the kitchen.

"Shut up." she said, elbowing him as she passed him. Alec let her, maintaining his saunter, trying hard to uphold his impervious front as she walked away from him – In true Max fashion. He sat the bag on the counter of the island and leaned against the granite; soaking in its cool hardness, as she unloaded the groceries.

"So, honey, what's for dinner?" he plucked a can of spaghetti out of the bag in front of him and frowned at the picture of red marinara sauce and meat glistening on a forkful of hot pasta. It never looks like that out of the can, he thought, choosing to focus on something other than Max as she moved around; her clothing showing off all her angles and curves perfectly, as if they'd actually been tailored.

"Don't call me honey, honey." she said with her usual dry tone. She chunked a battered loaf of bread on the counter and then a tin can of spam beside it. "And I'm making sandwiches."

I hate spam - one of the worst inventions of humankind.

"And…" she held up a gorgeous red and silver cardboard carton with six lovely brown glass bottles clanking together, "I offer this to wash it down."

Music to my ears. "Thank god." Alec said lightly, but the small lift around Max's full lips pulled his heart down into the pit of pain that seemed to be getting deeper each second. "I'm gonna go get big guy so he can wash up - he's probably multi-colored by now." Alec said; making his escape before Max saw through him. Damn, why was it so hard to keep that wall in place? She doesn't want to see behind it anyway.

--

The bread was old, the spam was fatty, and the lettuce wilted. But hey, what else could you expect in the post-Pulse world. Good beer. Alec nursed his second bottle out on the back porch, drawing out the bitter, tingling taste that was so sweet on his tongue. No, he couldn't get drunk due to his X5 metabolism, but there was still some enjoyment to be had of the alcohol - what that was, was undefined.

He heard the screen door open, and a very familiar footstep hesitate for a second on the threshold, before stepping out onto the wooden platform, and up to the railing about five feet from where he was standing. She'd not expected him out here, and she'd wanted to go back when she had seen him. An unseen knife twisted in his gut.

"Nice night." she said softly, uncomfortable and trying to mask it.

"Yup." Alec said, taking a swig of amber liquid, trying to swallow the pill of regret sticking to the back of his throat. From the corner of his eye he could see her switch the bottle back and forth between her hands in a miniscule fidget.

"I'm sorry, Alec." she said suddenly, breaking the hush. Alec only glanced at her as her shoulders lifted in a shrug and she looked at the bottle in her hands. "It's me…it's my screwed up mind, it's not…you."

One of the oldest let down lines in history. He couldn't help thinking bitterly.

"Manticore doesn't program for relationships." she added.

Yeah, blame it all on the bad guys. But he knew it was true. He knew it wasn't really her fault - hell, no one chose to be alone…did they?

"It's ok, Max." he said, finally turning to her, "You don't have to apologize to me; I understand." He kept the pain from his eyes; he had to be strong - for both their sakes.

Those brown eyes turned to him, so soft that they tore him to shreds, and he steeled himself from kissing and punching her at the same time. Cupid's a bitch. She tried to smile, but it was only her lips that turned up.

"When did you get so mature?" she meant the question but said it in a light way, as if they were the old Alec and Max, double trouble, transgenic duo.

We can't do that, Max - I can't do that. "Oh, you know, ladies love the sensitive type." But I'll play along. She gave a nod knowingly, and Alec saw her swallow and wondered what pill she was taking. He felt a crumpling sensation in his chest as his soul seemed to whither in the dark of the evening - as she completely severed his hopes by trying to restore the bare scrap of friendship they'd managed to build. Before I had to go and blow it away by falling in love with her.

"Well," he toyed with the bottle in his hand, swirling the remaining sip of beer around, "I think I'll turn in - Us sensitive men need our beauty sleep." He hesitated, hoping she'd say, 'wait, I don't mean it, I don't wanna be just friends, I love you too', but all she did was nod and say,

"Night, Alec." accepting his retreat. Probably relieved. Alec didn't hesitate another second, his strength drained by the strain on his heart, he went in and closed the door, stopping and downing the rest of his drink before plunking it into the garbage can. The gulp wasn't sweet so much as it was bitter now. Ruined.

--

Max ran along the path towards the lake. She didn't even realize she was crying until the sobs choked her and she had to stop to catch her breath. Leaning against a tree she cried; muffling her sobs into the sleeve of her shirt. She hated it; the weight, the pain, that casing of iron around her heart that kept her from feeling. Manticore had trained her to put it there, but she'd kept it in place after she'd escaped because the fear of being caught - of being betrayed - pounded in her with every beat. She'd done it to protect herself, so she could help her brothers and sisters; she'd done it so she'd be strong. Now… now it turned out to be one of her greatest weaknesses. Turned and bit me in the ass.

Tears ran down her face as she turned and laid back against the tree, looking up into the branches that made a canopy over her head. Manticore had done their job well; on the field she was a well oiled machine. But in the real world, the one that really mattered, she was a handicap.