Disclaimer: right now we're shooting scenes for season four, and well, what you're going to read below simply wouldn't fit in anymore. It's going to be a long season as it is, already… tries to leave, but is grabbed by some mean looking dudes… okay, alright. Not true. Not shooting scenes. There won't be a season four...chuckles nervously... there never was a season three, right? so… is nudged by one of the dudes… okayyy: NO INFRINGEMENT INTENDED - and I'm not going to repeat it every friggin' chapter, so LAY OFF…

A/N: I borrowed some of Joshua's lines from The Berrisford Agenda down below, and of course I borrowed Max and Alec, and a couple other familiar faces… Dude, I said BORROWED, alright?


Coyote


The day Alec disappeared was the day the tanks came; huge hostile monsters of steel that ran over everything – anything blocking their way, uncompromisingly, mercilessly. The fence went down first, clearing the way for an army of hooded soldiers, dark figures, armed to their teeth, all firing volleys out of their machine guns without asking questions first.

This was enemy territory after all, and this was a war. The time for questions had long passed, the time for negotiations officially ended.

This was the end.

The day Alec disappeared, machines came marching into Terminal City, killing its inhabitants methodically, thoroughly, not accepting surrender.


When Max opens her eyes she is surprised to see light flood in through the windows because it means she actually slept for a couple of hours. She takes in her surroundings and yawns heartily, then lazily stretches her limbs.

Disentangling herself from the sheets she makes to get up, having decided that she could do with a shower to properly wake her up.

"Morning, sleepy head!" she hears Alec call out from the bathroom before he sticks his towel-turbaned head out the door and winks at her, another towel still draped around his waist.

"Morning yourself. And since when are you the early riser, anyways?" she answers grumpily, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleepiness and frowning at him.

"Aw, Max. Discipline! Is all. Ever heard of it? You should try. As it happens I do know a facility that has developed quite some expertise on the field of teaching it to – uh, willing students… Burned down, I'm afraid, but luckily some of its subsidiaries still survive, and I'm sure –"

"Shut up, Alec!" she grumbles and enters the bathroom, occupying the place at the sink he has just vacated. He moves to kiss her, but she holds up a hand in warning to keep him at a distance. Not now, not before she feels at least a bit more human, a bit more presentable.

"Oh!" her partner exclaims, smirks, then adds appreciatively, "Mouth hygiene. Many underestimate its importance, but quite a few innocent kissers have been reported to have suffered severe traumata caused by the ominous and highly mysterious bad breath phenomenon in the past…" He chuckles at the glare she shoots him and she honestly thinks it should be forbidden to make stupid jokes before – well, at least before she's had any breakfast.

This man… What again has made her move in with him? She raises an eyebrow at her rumpled looking reflection in the mirror and grins when Alec's face comes up behind her again.

"Staring doesn't help much, you know? Better try with the water and soap," he suggests, smiling, and vanishes into the other room, leaving Max to ponder his "advice."


"This is Kelly Jones, reporting live for KBBW from the site of the attack on Terminal City! I repeat, Terminal City, the nuclear wasteland in the midst of our city annexed by the freaks a couple of months ago, is being attacked by the US military at this very mo–" a tall, dark-haired woman yelled into a camera when all of a sudden she was pushed aside by a bunch of soldiers and found herself and her film crew being circled. Their whole equipment – cameras, microphones, their cell phones – it all was wrenched out of their hands within seconds. Even the earplug connecting her with Frank back at the studio was ripped from her, a young soldier, a kid really, quietly apologizing for the somewhat rough handling.

"Hey!" she started to protest, but was instantly interrupted.

"No filming allowed, Ma'am. Please move over there. – Ma'am." The officer's tone sounded slightly annoyed, and threatening.

"Can you tell me what's going on here, Sir? Why are you attacking Terminal City now? Have those known as transgenics –"

"Ma'am!"

Her cameraman shushed her then, and pulled her close to him, away from the soldiers. She would have wanted him to record all this on tape, the noise, the screams, the yelling, the shooting, the explosions, the crunching, the sounds of war. All this, right in the middle of their city.

Was this really the treatment those creatures deserved, the only possible reaction to their seeking what Kelly couldn't help but call refuge?


The day Alec disappeared was the day Max, Mole, and Dix decided to give up the idea of staying in TC for much longer. It had finally become clear that the place didn't hold much of a future for them anymore; and instead of turning into a place they might one day call home it had only proved to be another kind of prison altogether, just as Mole had once claimed it would.

Maybe the place wasn't as bad as Manticore, but with the public not willing to accept the transgenics' presence, their mere existence, the Xs had mostly been forced to stay within the restricted boundaries of Terminal City for the months following their exposure. Outside, they were considered monsters, hunted down, not only by Seattle's inhabitants now, but by people that had traveled half the country to pursue this strange new enemy, this unusual prey.

White and his men were still around, too.

And those were only the ones they knew to be close on their heels…

The transgenics had been trapped. Again.

Trapped, as Alec was now.


The day he disappeared was the day Max got shot in the shoulder when she rounded a street corner on her way to Josh. She had wanted to talk to him about leaving TC, had wanted to talk about Alec…

After all, he knew Alec better than anyone else, didn't he? All the "Alec only outsmarts Alec. He doesn't know himself. Look. Outside, lots of pretty colors. Tricks and treats. Inside, darkness. Confusion. Alec"-kinda dealio, and somehow Joshua had had him down pat right from the start. How had he known, and why hadn't she?

Also, what made her distance herself from him still? Even now that they had actually both admitted their feelings for each other and reached a whole new level of relationship that she'd never had with anyone else. This was no not-like-that thing she could slip in and out of as she pleased. No, this was definitely different; it was the marvelous, exhilaratingly fun, but also intense, serious, and passionate real thing.

And it scared the hell out of her every fucking day…


"So, you gonna come with me to Command today, talk things over with Mole and the bunch?" Max asks over breakfast and eyes her partner carefully.

She has noticed how fidgety he has become with each new day spent within the confines of Terminal City, and even though he never says a word, and never will, she knows how gladly he will leave this place. No one has volunteered for supply runs more often than Alec – well, maybe the exception being Max herself, but that doesn't really count. She has to. She is responsible for all of them, they are here because of her, and she has to take care of them as best she can. But Alec? He could do other things to help, could remain in Command with the others and supervise from there, not risk his life nearly every day.

But he hardly enters the building that houses Command these days.

Alec tenses slightly, only for her enhanced vision to notice. "No," he says, looking down on the half-eaten banana in his hand before he takes another bite. "I'm supposed to help Logan put up that new computer stuff we got him the other day." He talks with his mouth full and manages a grin.

She stares at him, unsure of what to say. His carefree attitude is pissing her off, she can't help it. She should try to rein in her rising temper, but he never stopped to have this effect on her, not even now that they are a couple.

A couple; funny how they never call themselves that. Maybe they both feel too awkward using a term like that for describing their relation; it has a strange ring to it. Max sweeps a few stray hairs out of her face and looks across at her partner, pouting.

God, she can't even call him her boyfriend. Awkward. Nor can she call him her boy, although OC simply loves doing it, especially now that Max can no longer object. Not really, anyways. A tepid "Don't call him that" is all she huffs whenever Cindy says the words…

"Can't that wait? You know Logan is perfectly capable of setting up a computer without your help. We, on the other hand…"

"What? You guys need me so badly? I mean, I know it's hard to even get up in the morning without my presence – and I keep wondering how the others are managing it every friggin' day – but, seriously, I don't see how I could be of any help in discussing things rather than doing them, Maxie-Max. Besides, I promised the Log I would…"

"Since when is he your best fucking friend, huh, Alec?" she interrupts him, annoyed by his refusal to accompany her, annoyed by his smirking. She stares at him, hard, sees his features tense even more as the grin leaves his eyes, though it lingers on around his lips. "Whatever you promised him can surely wait till later, no? This 'discussing things' can't. We're trying to decide on the future of TC here, okay? And we need you there, Alec. They all consider you 2IC, have you forgotten what that means? Have you forgotten what being a CO can sometimes feel like? – We need your help in deciding what's best for everyone, we… – I need you to be there, to – support me. Alec…" her voice is faltering by the time she finishes her last sentence.

"We're not in Manticore, Max. Aren't you always telling me that?" He throws the banana peel onto his plate and gets up from his chair in a slow movement. When he glances across at her, there is no trace of a grin left on his face. "And I'm nobody's CO, or 2IC."

"Alec," she tries, now getting up herself and gently grabbing his arm. He doesn't flinch, doesn't move, only stares at her. "Please. I know you want out, and I know… just come with me today, okay? Maybe it's exactly what we'll decide…"

He lets his head droop, closes his eyes for a moment, and sighs before lifting his head again and looking straight at her. She can see her reflection in his beautiful eyes, it is right there with him, tinged black from his pupils, and brown where a thin ring of color bleeds into the predominant green. The image is so defined, so exact, that she can't help but wonder what he sees in her eyes…

And then the smirk is back in place, and whatever was on his mind only seconds before remains unsaid and locked away.

As always.

She won't say a thing, either. No concession to weakness, to her feelings.

They simply aren't like that

"Logan's waiting."

"Yeah, right. Tell him I said hi. I… I better go now, Mole is pretty cranky since Clemente got reassigned and…"

Alec laughs, already grabbing his jacket and rummaging in its pockets. "Why don't you give him these for me, huh? It'll surely cheer him up a bit… well, never mind," he snorts, "At least it'll keep him from snapping at you." With that he hands her a few Cubans, and god only knows where he might have gotten them, probably on one of his risky little stints in town that have caused more than enough fights between them by now, but she is grateful for the offer, because he is right: Mole with a cigar tucked in his mouth is a content Mole, and a content Mole makes for a way better conversational partner.

Not that you could call discussions with Mole conversations…

"See ya, Max," Alec says, suddenly pulling her close to him, breathing into her hair a second longer than he should have if he wants her to believe he's alright. But without being able to admit it verbally, she cherishes the moment, cherishes his closeness, and leans into him.

They disentangle themselves from the embrace soon after, their lips meeting in one quick kiss, then Alec walks away, waving once and smiling before he eventually turns around and walks out the door, his light and casual steps echoing on a while after he has vanished from view.

"Don't get your sorry ass in the line of fire! I'm not always there to hand it back down to ya!" she calls after him and shakes her head. The words resound in her ears hollowly, and a little too disconcertingly.

Why can't they ever say what's bothering them? Why can't they ever…


The day Alec disappeared Max found herself in the middle of an assault not long after she had run out of their suddenly too stuffy apartment. At first she only heard an unfamiliar roar not far off, and whatever caused that noise was obviously advancing rather quickly.

She could discern different kinds of noises now: the metallic wheezing of big vehicles, the marching trot of feet, of a lot of feet. As soon as she rounded the next street corner, she felt her shoulder being jerked back forcefully, a movement that caused her to lose her balance and sent her falling to the floor almost instantly. She hit her head hard enough that it left her dazed and lying motionless on the ground for a full two minutes, before she eventually managed to pull herself up again. She had only staggered away a few feet when her breakfast suddenly churned up inside of her, compelling her to bend over and vomit so violently that she had to hold on to the nearest wall for support. How disgraceful for a lab-engineered soldier to go down like that, she thought, gasping for air and wiping a hand over her mouth in disgust.

Apparently, Terminal City was being attacked, only minutes after she had watched Alec leave, minutes after she had told him to take care. If not in so many words…

She didn't know what exactly was going on, although she was sure this had to be the long feared attack on TC. She didn't know where all the others were, she was far from Command, and now she had also managed to get shot and to bang her head so badly she could hardly remain standing. Her fall had earned her the first concussion she'd ever had, at least as far as she could remember. Hell, she could deal with a stupid shot wound, but this dizziness? This nausea? That made fighting pretty damn hard. She couldn't even see properly.

Max tried to regain her bearings and forced her eyes to focus. With one hand she lightly touched the delicate spot on her head that was throbbing the most and hissed. When her fingers came away sticky with blood she cursed wordlessly and took a few deep breaths to calm her revolting stomach. Not again, she thought, when she tasted bile and had to bend over once more.

Sweat had erupted on her brow by then and she felt worse than any wound had ever made her feel. At least a shot wound didn't make you feel so embarrassed, so disgraced. Shot wounds were heroic wounds. If wounds could ever be anything other than plain nasty and painful…

When Max's vision finally cleared, she found herself on one of TC's main streets, a troop of dark-clad hooded soldiers not far from her and advancing steadily. She had barely made up her mind to run for it, when out of a narrow passageway a hand grabbed at her and pulled her with it into the shadowed darkness. She tried to fight the stranger, tried to pry her arm out of their grip, when she was shushed urgently and felt another hand go up to her mouth and cover it.

"Sssh, they're close now. You don't want to draw their attention to our presence, now do you?"

It was a man, tall and lean, his thin arms holding more strength than she would have guessed. He looked at her out of dark, nearly black and bottomless eyes that held her gaze, mesmerizing her. Something was not alright.

For one short moment she had given in to the wild and impossible hope that it was Alec grabbing her. But of course that had been a stupid thought. Alec was – she didn't know where he was, whether he was even still alive. Oh, please, no…

Terminal City was finally going down.


The day Alec disappeared was the day Max first met Coy.