General disclaimer: Max Steel belongs to many companies, Kids' WB!, two different computer animation companies, and a whole mess-o corporate executives. This story is my personal work derived from my inner child getting hold of an uzi and obliterating my good side.
BY:
Maxy Steel
Even with the insane gunman on their heels, Max was still smiling cheerfully, entirely confident in his abilities. Much too confident. It was understandable. He and Rachel had gotten through worse scrapes than this.
"Think he's mad at us?" the teenager asked innocently, nodding back to the gun man, who was reloading his rifle. Rachel looked at the large gun, which had formerly belonged to the man chasing them, strapped to Max's back, and nodded.
"You could be right about that. Perhaps we should get out of here, before he gets reloaded," the blonde agent suggested smoothly. A gunshot blasted between them, narrowly missing both agents. They dove off to the side, crouching behind a tractor. It was a barn, after all. Though, with it's flammable gasoline-filled tank, the tractor wasn't exactly a choice shield.
"Hawk's just outside. We make it there, we're home free. You ready, Rach?" Max asked, taking a slow breath. His older partner nodded slightly. They poised, ready to dash.
"I'm gonna blow your heads off for stealing my baby!" a voice screamed at them vehemently. Max rolled his eyes, jerking his head in the direction of the gunman.
"Move when I do. Get ready," Max cautioned. Rachel barely had time to adjust to her best running pace before her younger partner took off. She was right on his heels in half a second. The barn doors were in sight. They'd pull this off, after all. The gun man fired a single blind shot, trying to stop them. Rachel felt a fire-like stab of pain in her leg, and crashed to the ground on her left hand and knee, the right hand holding her right leg, which now contained a bullet. She whipped around to face the gun man, still on the floor. Max screeched to a stop, and whirled around, staring in horror.
"Got you!" the gunman cackled, aiming at the blonde agent again, the barrel pointed at her heart. The female N-tek agent froze in panic. This was it. There was no way she could dodge bullets in her condition. Blood was running down her leg. She couldn't move the limb in the slightest.
"Nooo!" Rachel heard a voice scream. The rifle spat a flash of light, and the injured female agent closed her eyes, waiting for the killing shot. It had been fired, but it never hit her. A guardian angel, of sorts, intervened. Max grunted from the impact of the slug in his chest, and fell to his knees before falling backward, right into Rachel's arms. The attacker, suddenly too scared to think, not to mention a few sparse sheds of his sanity had returned, spun on his heel, and ran away. Satisfied that particulat threat was over with, Rachel turned her attention to the weakly gasping boy she held.
"Max, you idiot," she whispered, not bothering with attempting to sound cross, looking down at him. He smiled, gritting his teeth behind the expression. He had just done something fatally stupid, but it didn't matter. She was safe, and that's what really mattered.
"Sorry, Green-eyes," he choked softly in reply. Gently, she brushed his bangs from his forehead, then took his hand. He looked up at her with eyes misted with tears. Of pain, and sadness.
"Don't be. Come on, we still have a chance. You'll be okay," Rachel insisted, more to assure herself, trying to pull him to his feet, momentarily heedless of his wound. He winced, and waved her off, suddenly it was an amazing drain of energy to do such a simple movement.
"It's too late. It hit a choice spot. But, Rachel, there's something I have to tell you," Max replied, completely serious.
"Don't say that, Max! We'll get help for you," the older agent pleaded. The boy shook his head.
"Rachel, I have to tell you. I-I love you," he said in a sincere tone, trying to sound as normal as possible, with his life fluid draining into his lungs, slowly drowning him. Rachel responded by kissing him deeply on the lips, something she'd wanted to do again since the incident aboard Shark. No lies, that hadn't been a simple, less painful alternative to slapping him in the face. However, until a moment ago, that's what she thought he'd thought of it as.
"I do too, Max. Please try to hang on. We can get you patched up," she tried to assure softly, trying not to look at the dark hole in the boy's chest. Or the rapidly spreading dark red stain around the single wound. It was a miracle he was still breathing, never mind awake. His breath dragged through his lungs at a painfully slow rate, and it was an painful for him as it was for her to listen. As much as he wanted to stay with her, even he couldn't will himself out of this one. Already, he was running on extensively borrowed life. It would be time to go soon, much too soon in his opinion, and the young woman with him. Tears had long since pooled up in Rachel's eyes, and slid down her cheeks. He wanted to reach up and brush them away, but his strength and spirit were so far gone at this point, the most he could to was look up at her. He was past speaking, but she seemed to understand. She kissed him again, not as hard as before, as if she was afraid of hurting him. They locked eyes. He had told her, she had told him. It was enough for him to leave this world in the closest thing to peace. His heart stopped, and Max closed his eyes for the last time.
"No! Max, wake up! Come on..." Rachel pleaded, trying to convince herself that he could still be saved. A minute passed, and he didn't open his eyes, or breathe. Another minute passed, then another. His eyes remained softly closed. Rachel bowed her head, accepting the truth, but not wanting to. Max was supposed to make it through these things, wasn't he? She was in the same position when Berto came rushing in, a few minutes later.
Even with the job he had, Max had never really expected to be hurt by anything a normal human could be injured by. He was dead wrong. Bullets knew no difference. They didn't care what they hit, be it living or non, flesh or metal. Even so, everyone had been shocked, not only at his violent demise at such a young age, he had just barely been out of his teens, but that even he could have been so easily taken down. Even in the year plus three months he'd been working at N-tek, Max had touched many hearts, both at N-tek, and outside of it. Many attended the funeral for the brave young man. His partners were right up front. One was even younger than the desceased agent had been, and was bravely trying to hold back unmanly tears. Beside him, a young woman. She was trying her hardest not to cry, yet, she was the one sobbing the most. Rachel lowered her hands, one tightly clutched around a tissue, and winced slightly as her right hand brushed her leg. Under the black cloth of her ankle-length skirt, a slight bulge of a bandage rose from her right thigh. The young man's funeral was an open casket, and after the last person had spoken of how the young man had touched her heart in some way, the two up front got up to say their last good-byes. He looked so uncharacteristically solemn in death, with the corners of his mouth turned slightly down, for a moment, neither believed the body laying in the padded casket was really him. They had even messed up his bangs. The woman covered her eyes, her vision blurring with more tears. Suddenly, the younger realized they were the only ones left in the church room. Quietly, he nudged the young woman, and they both left. A minute later, the casket was closed, and moved to be taken for burial. A bouquet of flowers resting on the lid slipped off, and fell to the floor. The petals exploded from the plasticky bindings, and showered the carpet in a blur of red, flowery scent. Rachel had to refrain from vomiting at the site.
The grave was freshly covered, not even two hours since the last shovelful had been patted down, when the same two who had been at the front in the ceremony walked up to the stone marker. Neither could bring themselves to look at the inscription on the hard gray block.
"How could this have happened?" Berto asked, more to himself. He'd thought that Max's powers would have made him unkillable. Max was supposed to be invincable! That's what the Max-probes had been designed for. He was supposed to be standing with them, not mourning over a fellow agent, but out on a new mission, pushing back the tension with lame jokes and an optimistic outlook.
"It was my fault. I let him take that bullet. I shouldn't have let him jump in front of me," Rachel said softly, her sorrow changing her normally stoic nature. It had been a week since that fated mission, and she hadn't gotten over what had happened between herself and Max right after the death-blow, before his last breath. Before the last spark of life smoldered in his eyes. The young woman figured she probably never would, and that was fine with her. She didn't want to forget, deep down. Berto shook his head sadly.
"It wasn't your fault. Max made his choice consciously. I'm sure he doesn't regret what he did, at least in the way we do," he said thoughtfully. If he'd been sincere, then Berto's right. Max doesn't regret giving up his life for mine, Rachel thought. The realization didn't help her battered concience at all. Two tears slipped down her face, and dropped to soak into the dirt covering Max's coffin. But did he realize I'd have done the same for him? she asked herself silently, though she knew the answer. It seemed so unfair. At the time of his death, she and Max had gotten to the point that they could second-guess almost every one of each other's moves. That kind of closeness was a hard to attain feat. Losing him was like having one side of her body removed. An empty void swirled where his bright smiles, easy laughter, and glowing personality had been in her heart. Staring at the rough stone marker, focusing on the engraved writing in the marker, she thought back to the day he died, the day she lost a part of herself. "Joshua Alex McGrath a.k.a.: Max Steel."
Yup, that was morbid, but since it's a stand-alone, it didn't really happen. Just my thoughts on what might happen if Max was ever seriously wounded, protecting Rachel. We all know this probably wouldn't happen, knowing Max, he'd never get caught by one. But hey, it's just a story. Just in case you're wondering, I don't know if that's Josh's real middle name, probably not. If I ever find out, I'll change it. Promise.
-Maxy Steel