Running Away
"Blood and Tears"
by: Mochaije

Spoilers: After "Borrowed Time", no actual spoilers if you're in North America.
Rating: PG 13
Summary: Some people have a hard time letting go... M/A
A/N: I currently don't have anything else written on this story, but I'll hurry if I get a lot of reviews...

Max's running shoes evenly padded the floor of the Harbour Lights morgue. She had to see him, had to know what she'd done to him.

This was her fault. All of this. Logan was dead at her hands and she couldn't even utter a sob. Her words had no emotion since the day before, her features colourless, a poker face securely glued.

"I keep thinking about the night we took down Manticore...when I thought I'd lost you. I came home and sat on my sofa and I didn't get up again for days. The sun came up...the sun went down...I just sat there. It was like I couldn't move. It hurt too much to move. That's how I feel right now..."

She came to a set of flimsy doors and brushed her way through them. There were six beds out in front of her, all with feet dangling and small cards loosely strung to one of their big toes. Max couldn't bring herself to read the cards and ages, so she simply pulled back the sheet of the first corpse she happened upon.

"I knew this would happen. We shouldn't have taken the chance."

"We had to. You know we did. We can't keep going through this, though."

"I know."

The wide-open eyes of a young, blonde boy stared up at her and she almost jumped a foot into the air. Shaking, she replaced the stiff, white blanket and moved onto the next bed. That kid... He's not even twelve. Oh my God. It was easy to see that the next person was not even male, from the small darts in the starched cover. Next.

"That year we wasted, dancing around each other, afraid of actually admitting how we felt...If I had that time back, I would do that so differently..."

The man looked so peaceful, almost serene, as if meant not to be of the living any more. His eyes were softly shut, white hair decorating his head. Logan had brown hair, she reminded herself, once again replacing the sheet.

"Well, I guess that's it."

Max's Nikes squeaked noisily against the linoleum and she turned apprehensively. No one was there, except her and a half a dozen dead guys. She froze with the knowledge that these people would never again wake, brush their teeth, eat breakfast, work, see, hear... And she could be next. The impact of that was oddly refreshing and boosted her courage, knowing she had something so precious that she'd taken away from so many people. Her hand reached out and pulled back the sheet covering the third person.

"I love you, Max."

-----

Asha burst into tears. "You were the only chance we had, you stupid bitch." Pow. The back of his hand hit her face, turning her head almost all the way to her right. She heard the sound of a gun being loaded, her eyes shut tight from being knocked around so bad. Her lip bled, forming a mess on her face and taking away her ability to think straight. She came close to passing out, but his hand hit her face again.

At last! She managed enough strength to free her hands from the ropes that held them, behind the chair she was tied to. Her arms fell uselessly to her sides and she slouched, delirious. Before Asha had any idea what was going on, he slammed her back into a strict posture and tied a rope around her torso and the chair. There was the faint sound of squeaking pliers, and then she felt them squeezing gently on her teeth.

"Now," he said, infuriated. "You're going to tell me who the fuck you told." Barely managing a headshake, she felt one of her back molars being ripped from her gums. She screamed in pain and he tore out another, ignoring the incredible noise eminating from her throat.

"Wanna tell yet?" He smiled at her, even though she couldn't see it. No response. The next tooth was more painful than the others, for it was a wisdom tooth that Asha had been planning on having removed. The blood raced into her throat and the man tilted her head back, its sickening copper toast choking her rapidly. Any attempt to breathe through her nose was squashed by the fact that it was so badly broken and also bleeding heavily.

"Fine!" He yelled, tearing out the last molar in that part of her mouth. Asha's screams were now muffled gurgles. Her head swam from lack of oxygen and blood loss. She opened her eyes as much as she could, looking through tiny slits in the large, swollen bruises that marred her appearance...

And stared down the barrel of a gun.