The Blackest White

By Inzane

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Dark Angel or its characters. I do this only for fun.

Summary: The best way to destroy an enemy is to strike at his heart. Sequel to "The Friggin' Cure."

A/N: I wish I could get these updates out there quicker, but sometimes the muse is stubborn.

Warning: Language.

Chapter 6: Blinded Faith

"In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don't."
- Blaise Pascal

Alec McDowell had come full circle—captive, leader, and captive once again. He stood a few feet from the door, staring at its immoveable surface. He'd been standing there for a while, breathing hard, not doing anything at all… just staring. Despite his makeshift bandage, blood ran down the fingertips of one hand; small droplets fell to the floor with a steady plop, plop.

No matter what he did, the door remained closed.

He turned his back on the door, pivoting slowly. He moved to the other side of the small room and knelt next to what remained of the bed sheets. With efficient movements, he tore another long strip from the cloth.

He set the fresh strip aside and began to unwrap the soaked bandage. As the tattered rag fell away, fresh blood welled up in the cut on his palm. His left hand wasn't as bad—a few scrapes, nothing more. He wouldn't have to change that one. But his right hand was sliced deep, all the way to the bone.

He wrapped the fresh bandage around his palm, pulling it tight. Red bloomed against white as blood immediately began to seep through.

It was so bright. Almost too bright to be real.

Not like the dark, near black pool they'd found in the tunnel.

He ripped another strip, and then another, until he was tearing at the sheet without a care as to what he'd needed it for. Blood flew from his hand, speckling the floor and walls. Soon, there was nothing left to rip apart, so he tore up the mattress. Bits of cloth and mattress batting flew until it looked like it was snowing inside the room. It wasn't long until that too was gone.

He began to pick up the larger chunks of debris and hurl them at the walls. His aim lacked a target this time; he peppered the walls at random. Chips of concrete flew every time there was an impact.

"Why'd you have to be so fucking stubborn!" he raged as he chucked the missiles as hard as he could. "Since the day we met! Never back down, not even an inch! Always your way or the highway."

Out of ammunition, he stood empty-handed and panting, sweat pouring off of him. Having nothing left to take his anger out on, he took it out on himself. He screamed wordlessly and slammed his fists into the concrete wall so hard that he left shallow impact craters. "This is all your fault!"

"It should've been me! ME, goddammit! I should be the one lying on a slab with a bullet in the brain. I should be the one everyone's crying over. Not you. ME!"

"How could you?!" he yelled, his eyes now blinking rapidly to hold back tears. He slammed his hands into the wall again, but with half-hearted effort as his rage burnt out, taking his strength with it. He turned and put his back to the wall. His chin began to quiver as he slowly slid down it.

"How could you go and die on me like that?" he rasped, words breaking into sobs. He curled in on himself, burying his head in his arms as he finally let go.

The image froze, mercifully cutting off the sound of Alec's sobs. The screen next to it flickered to life, a live feed from Isolation. It showed Alec, in the same position on the floor, still curled up in a ball with his arms wrapped around his legs, only now staring blankly at the wall.

"He's been like that for the past hour," Vash commented softly. She turned around to look at Mole, Wil, Dix, and Zev—the four of them having become a unit to replace their fallen leaders. "What do you think?"

Mole straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. He chewed on the stub of his cigar as he contemplated the images. The conclusion he came to made him scowl. "I think you should give the man an Oscar."

"Come on, Mole. You think he's faking it?" Zev asked. "Seriously. That's over-the-top cynical, even for you."

"I don't know, Zev," Wil said, scratching his chin as he looked down on the images of Alec's grief, side by side. "Alec was the master of bullshit back in the old Manticore days. But still…" he trailed off, but his doubt was clear on his face. If he had to choose sides, he was leaning toward Zev's. He doubted that even Alec could fake that kind of grief.

"Even if he is faking it, and I'm saying if, here," Dix said, holding up a hand to forestall Zev's protest, "we can't keep him locked up indefinitely."

"I second that opinion," Vash said grimly. "The room's not going to last much longer, we leave him in there."

Mole angrily threw his cigar down on the floor and tramped on it. "Talk about a rock and a fucking hard place."

Vash looked down at Mole's boot, then back up at his face. The look on her own could have frozen Lake Washington in ten seconds flat. "Tell me you did not just put a cigar out on the floor of my hospital."

There was a brief staring contest, at the end of which Mole decided discretion really was the better part of valor. With a sheepish look (or, as sheepish as a lizard man could look) he picked up the stub of his cigar and slipped it into his pocket.

Somewhat appeased, though still none too happy with the transhuman, Vash crossed her arms over her chest and raised her eyebrows at him. "So. What do we do with him?"

Mole looked at the others, but they were all looking back at him expectantly. Of course they were looking at him. Who else would they be looking at? He was in charge, wasn't he?

He must have been dead drunk the day he'd agreed to be third in command. Mole hoped that Alec got his head on straight and soon, because he wasn't sure how much more of this leadership gig he could take. He had no problem taking charge when there was something to shoot, but other than that, the whole leading part of being a leader really sucked.

He closed his eyes, mentally counted to ten, then opened them, squaring his shoulders. "We let him out." He turned on his heel and left the room, heading toward the door that held Alec back. "Max's funeral is tomorrow."

Mole opened the door himself, though it wasn't exactly easy. Although he hadn't been able to break it open, Alec had done some serious damage. It opened with the screech of metal, carving a groove into the cracked tile floor as Mole managed to open it a little over two feet before it stuck.

He figured he was the next in line for some serious damage.

Mole had gone into the room expecting one of several different reactions from the X5. He should have known better. Alec, however messed up he might be, was still typical Alec and therefore completely unpredictable. Instead of tearing Mole's head off, raging, or continuing to stare off into space, the X5 calmly got to his feet as if he hadn't just torn the entire room down around him. He stood at attention, tugging on his shirt to straighten it, as if presenting himself for inspection. He left a bloody smear on the hem.

Alec's eyes met Mole's, the former's unnervingly calm. Mole wondered if it was the calm before the storm, or after.

"Are you going to let me out now?" Alec asked. His voice was completely level but without its usual strength. He sounded tired and embittered. "I promise I'll be a good boy."

"Yes," Mole said quietly, moving to the side to give Alec a clear path to the door. "We've having her funeral tomorrow. If that's all right with you," he added, watching the X5's every move, looking for anything that might give away his intentions.

"You do what you have to do. You're big man on campus now."

"When things get back to normal…"

"Things will never get back to normal," Alec retorted, the mild bite of the words the most emotion he'd shown since Mole had entered the room.

Alec moved toward the door, but stopped when he came up beside Mole. The transhuman instinctively braced himself, ready for anything, but he wasn't prepared for what actually happened.

"I quit," Terminal City's now former SIC said flatly, his eyes fixed on the narrow opening. Without another word, he slipped out the door.

Mole was left alone, standing in the middle of the chaos that remained. He wasn't a psychic, and he certainly couldn't tell the future, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that there would be more chaos to come.

Alec didn't make a break for it, though Mole had half expected him to. As soon as they had let him out, the X5 had gone straight back to his apartment and locked himself in. He hadn't come out since.

Mole knew this for a fact, because he'd had Wil assign a two-person crew to watch him. Alec hadn't done a thing since they'd sprung him, which was more unnerving than anything else he could have done.

Maybe Zev was right. Maybe Alec had accepted it.

Right. And pigs could fly. Though, considering his own origins, that wasn't saying much. He'd seen a lot weirder things in his life.

Zev had tried to talk to Alec. Then Wil. Then Dix. They had wanted to ask Dalton to try, but the kid had given them the slip. The X6 had been dodging them ever since they'd locked Alec in Isolation, though they hadn't bothered looking too hard.

Mole didn't think it would have made a difference, anyway. Alec may have heard them, but he wasn't listening.

Original Cindy took the stairs slowly, counting off each in her head as she went. She pulled her coat tighter around her; although the building was heated, she was ice cold.

She couldn't do this.

Sure you can, girl, she told herself. One foot in front the other, jus' like every other time you took these stairs.

But it wasn't like every other time, and it would never be again. Max was dead. Not missing, not captured like before, but dead.

She had tried to deny it at first. When Wil had shown up in her apartment to tell her what had happened—suddenly there as if he had appeared out of nowhere—she had called him a liar. Then she had called him all manner of nasty things that a nice guy like Wil hadn't really deserved, and she had told him to get out. But he wouldn't. He just kept saying I'm sorry until she finally understood the grief behind his words, saw the pain in his eyes.

But she couldn't accept it. She had to see for herself.

And she had. She had bullied Wil into taking her back to Terminal City, bullied her way into Medical until she was standing in a cold room, facing what she hadn't wanted to face. She'd even tried calling Max's cell phone number to prove that it wasn't her. But the box underneath the gurney—the box of clothing and personal affects that had been removed from the body—began to vibrate, proving her wrong.

She had seen what that bastard had done to Max. She had seen, and she would never forget.

Cindy stumbled forward, not realizing that she had come to the end of the steps. She put a hand against the wall to steady herself. She needed to be steady. She needed to be a rock. For Alec. He needed her now. Max would have wanted her to be there for him.

They'd told her he had refused to accept Max's death. They'd told her he'd gone crazy. After she'd seen what he'd done to the isolation room, she could almost believe it. He'd torn that place apart before he'd broken down and finally accepted the truth.

A half an hour from now, they were going to burn what was left of the best friend she'd ever had. They would say their goodbyes and try to remember the good times as they watched her turn into a pile of ash. Max would be gone forever.

But Alec refused to come.

They'd asked her to talk to him, to see if she could get him to come. Said he needed closure. She didn't know what she could say that would make a difference, but she would try. Even if she could only give him someone to share his misery with for a little while, that would be something.

She was standing in front of the apartment door. She hadn't realized that she had been standing in front of it, didn't know how long she had been there. She straightened up and squared her shoulders, wiping a tear away. Be strong.

She knocked softly. There was no answer. She knocked again.

Silence.

Cindy reached out and tried the door. The knob slowly turned in her hand. She pushed in gently, almost afraid of what she would find. She didn't think Alec would kill himself, but she had just enough doubt to scare her. She'd seen the way Max and Alec had looked at each other. You didn't get over losing something like that.

She found him in the bedroom—wonderfully, miserably alive. The bed was unmade. One of Max's shirts was crumpled up at the bottom of bed, where she must have tossed it before she'd left, not knowing that she was never coming back.

Alec was standing beside the window, fingers absently toying with something. As soon as she stepped across the threshold, he slipped it into his pocket. Even though he was by the window, he wasn't watching the snow, which had begun to fall about an hour earlier. He didn't seem to be looking at anything.

He certainly wasn't dressed for a funeral. He was wearing dark, baggy jeans and a long-sleeved black thermal. Though it had only been a couple of days, they seemed to hang on him, as if the loss of Max had taken a physical piece of him. His black combat boots were well worn and scuffed from hard use. His hair was a mess, sticking up in every direction, while his jaw was shadowed with stubble. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen stubble on Alec. They didn't call him "pretty boy" for nothin'.

He didn't look at her. His lips twisted in a bitter smile. "So, they sent you now, huh?"

Cindy sniffed and swallowed hard, but the words still came out rough. "Thought I should come, talk to you a bit. Thought maybe…" She had to pause as her voice wavered. "…maybe we could help each other work through this."

"Is that so?" Alec turned his head slightly toward her, a hint of a sneer on his face. She'd never seen him look so harsh. "Well, you thought wrong."

"Alec…"

"Don't bother trying to convince me, because it won't work. I'm not going."

"You need to be there, boo." She sniffed again, trying to get a grip on herself. She couldn't break into tears in front of Alec. That would be all kinds of wrong. "We need you there."

"No," he snapped, slamming his fist down against the windowsill and making her jump. He turned toward her, and she couldn't help but take an involuntary step back. This wasn't grief, it was straight up anger, and she wasn't prepared for how hot it burned.

As he closed the distance between them, her heart began to pound. He stood over her, glaring at her angrily. "I won't go and mourn for a woman who isn't dead."

His eyes were bloodshot and wide; she'd never been afraid of him, even back when Max had been bad-mouthing him twenty-four seven, but she was a little afraid of him now. His eyes… they weren't the eyes of a man whose brain was properly hinged.

She took another step back, frowning at him. "But they said… they said they heard you say…"

"Those bastards heard exactly what I needed them to hear so they'd let me out of that fucking room. That's all."

After he'd run out of steam trying to break his way out of Isolation, he'd switched to a new tactic, one for which he was much better suited. He'd given up trying to convince them. He wasn't even sure if they had believed it, but it had been enough to get them to let him go, and that was all that mattered.

"I promised Mole I would behave, but I didn't promise any more than that, and frankly, it's more than he goddamn deserves."

"But…" Cindy shook her head, trying to match up what she knew with what Alec believed. "I saw her."

"No. You saw Sam. White killed Sam. It's her body we found in the tunnel, not Max's. White has her. He has Max, Cindy. She's still alive."

Could he be right? She wanted him to be right, would give her left arm for him to be right, but how could he be? All of the evidence pointed in one direction, but Alec was firmly pointed in the other. He was adding two and two together and coming up with five; no matter how much you wanted it to be the right answer, you couldn't change the math.

"But… I called her phone. It was in the box, with the clothes she'd been wearing. And she was with her crew. They said Brand saw…"

Alec interrupted her again, insistent. "He was confused."

Cindy began to think that Alec wasn't even hearing what she was saying. She reached out to touch his shoulder. "I know you're hurtin', boo, but you can't keep goin' on like this."

"You have no idea what I'm feeling," Alec shot back, jerking away from her.

One by one, they had turned against him. All the people he thought he could trust. All the people he thought had trusted him. Each and every one had turned against him.

He really was alone.

Original Cindy wrapped her arms around herself. She didn't know what else she could say to him. "I'm so sorry, Alec," she said. The tears she'd been struggling to hold back began to fall.

"Don't," he scolded, leveling a finger at her. "Don't you do that. Don't you cry for her. She's not dead. You want to cry, you go down there and cry for Sam. God knows nobody else will."

Cindy hastily wiped away her tears. "You really believe it, don't you?"

"Yes," he said. There was no hesitation. No doubt.

"What if you're wrong?"

"I'm not wrong," he said, and in his eyes she saw the absolute conviction of his belief.

Cindy had to look away. She couldn't do it. She couldn't get her hopes up only to have them crushed. If he was right, if by a one-in-a-million chance Max was still alive, then she would owe him a thousand apologies, but until then, she couldn't take that blind leap.

"I'm not wrong," Alec repeated, wanting to convince her but already knowing that he could not.

"But what if you are?" she asked quietly, hesitant to hurt him but afraid it would hurt more if he didn't take this chance. "Don't you want a chance to say goodbye?"

Alec's eyes darkened, pupils dilating until only a thin rim of hazel-green remained. His jaw clenched, and she could see the muscles underneath working as his teeth ground together. He moved to walk past her and out the door, but he stopped before he crossed the threshold, turning his head back toward her.

"That's not Max down there, and nothing you can say will convince me that it is." He hesitated, as if he wasn't sure he wanted to say anything else, but then he said it anyway. "I thought at least you would believe me," he said, his tone both hurt and accusing.

And then he was gone.

Original Cindy closed her eyes and let the tears fall. She wished she had the courage to believe him.

It took Original Cindy a while to pull herself together. By the time she reached the others, they were ready to begin. She went to stand by Sketchy, nose and eyes were red from more than the cold. Snow frosted his hair, making it hang down in damp strands. Poor, foolish boy—he hadn't remembered to wear a hat.

Sketchy put an arm around Original Cindy, which he knew would normally have earned him a beat down, but he thought he might get away with it this time. She looked like she needed it. The truth was, he needed it as much as she did.

"He's not coming?" he asked her.

Cindy shook her head and used tissue to wipe nose. "No."

Sketchy hung his head, his damp hair hanging down into his eyes. "Man. This sucks out loud."

"Tell me 'bout it. Sky and the others come?"

"Yeah. They're back over there," he said, pointing toward a group standing a bit apart from the main transgenic population. "I think Mole freaks 'em out."

"Mole freak everybody out. Is that Normal?" she asked, squinting over at the crowd.

"Hey, I think it is. Wow. I always thought he sorta hated Max."

"Nah," said Cindy, reaching in her pocket for a tissue to wipe her running nose. Crying sure made a mess of your face. "He's all bark, our Normal. Deep down, I think he had a soft spot for her."

"Where is Alec?"

Cindy and Sketchy both turned, surprised to find Joshua standing behind them. They hadn't heard him approach.

"He's not comin', doggy dog," Cindy said, reaching out to put a hand on Joshua's arm.

The transhuman looked down at her, his big eyes full of wounded confusion. "Why?"

Joshua hadn't heard about Alec. He hadn't heard anything since the moment that new little X8 girl (Daisy? Pansy? How could he have forgotten her name?) burst into his class ten minutes late, shouting that Max was dead. He'd stepped out the door just in time to see Alec carrying her body through the street. In that moment, he didn't just see Max. He saw his brother Isaac, he saw Annie, he the saw dozens of faces from the Manticore basement, all taken from him. Every time he thought he had lost enough for one lifetime, there was always something more to lose.

After that, things got a little hazy.

For the past couple of days, he'd refused to see anyone. He was blind to the outside world, buried in grief and his obsession with painting the shroud in which they had wrapped Max. Locked in his studio, her death had been his sole obsession. Now that he had stepped into the outside world, nothing seemed real. Maybe it was the snow. It made everything seem like a dream.

"Why Alec not come?" he asked again, worried now. He'd let himself get so wrapped up in everything that he'd lost that he'd forgotten what he still had.

"He can't accept it, Josh," she said quietly, hoping that the others wouldn't overhear. She was afraid that if they knew Alec had lied to them, they would lock him back up again. She couldn't do that to him. He may have been mad at her, but he was still her friend and the man Max had loved.

"It is… very hard to accept," Joshua said, stumbling over the words, voice failing him at the end.

Original Cindy went over and wrapped her arms around him. He returned it, his long coat enveloping her as he wrapped his arms around her, until she almost disappeared.

"We got to stick together, big guy," she said, the words muffled by his bulk. Her tears soaked into his shirt. "We can get through this if we stick together."

Kazi stood with her hands buried deep in the pockets of her coat and her hat pulled snuggly down over her dark locks. Her eyes were downcast.

She stood alone.

She really screwed up with Dalton. She'd hardly even seen him, much less talked to him, since she'd told him about Max. He'd been avoiding her during the one time she really didn't think he should be alone. When she had finally managed to talk to him, they'd had a fight. She'd only wanted to help, but he hadn't wanted it. Then she'd gone and pushed when she should've backed down. She hadn't meant to. She had a habit of acting first and thinking about it later, which had gotten her reprimanded more than once in her Manticore days.

She was thinking now that maybe they'd had a point.

Oscar stepped up beside her, wrapped in the long military-style coat he wore while stationed on border patrol. Kazi's jaw clenched at the site of him. He was a big part of the reason she'd fought with Dalton. It wasn't Oscar's fault, but that didn't really signify in the mind of a fifteen-year-old girl.

"Have you seen Dalton?" Oscar asked as he scanned the crowd. "I can't find him anywhere."

"No," Kazi said, not looking at him because she was afraid her face would give her feelings away. She'd never been good at concealing them. "I haven't seen him for the past two days."

At her tone, Oscar turned to look at her, taking in her clenched jaw and stiff posture. Her reaction made him angry on Dalton's behalf. "Cut him some slack, Kazi. He's having a rough time with this."

"I wouldn't know. He won't talk to me," she said, the emphasis on the last word turning it into an accusation.

"Hey, I didn't…"

"Oscar. Kazi. Where's Dalton?" Mole called out, walking up and interrupting the X6s. Oscar was grateful; now was not the time for a scene.

"I'm sure he'll be here, sir," Oscar responded before Kazi could say anything, automatically drawing himself up to attention.

Mole frowned at him. "Don't 'sir' me, kid. I don't like it."

"Yes, sir."

Mole rolled his eyes and turned away. He quickly forgot about Dalton; he had bigger concerns, like keeping the city from falling apart. The transhuman looked to his left, where Joshua stood back a ways with Original Cindy and Sketchy. Alec was not with them. He hadn't really expected him to be, but he'd figured it couldn't have hurt to have Original Cindy take a shot at convincing him to come.

He looked up.

Somehow, he'd known Alec would be there.

He was sitting on the ledge of its tallest building, in Max's spot. Mole could see the outline of his form as snow fell down around him. Not exactly present, but accounted for. It wasn't what they had hoped Alec would do, but it was probably the best they could expect.

Wil came to stand beside him, and the two of stared up at the outline of Alec's form.

"You still have someone watching him?" Mole asked.

"Yep," Wil said simply.

Mole nodded his approval. He turned back around to see Max's body being carried in on a litter. His mood darkened. Soon, he would have to watch a friend burn.

"Let's get started."

Dalton stood at the top of the stairwell, looking out through the open door across the roof. He'd been there for a while, watching Alec. The funeral went on without either of them.

Zev had told him that Alec had accepted Max's death, but he didn't believe it. Not for a minute. He knew Alec, probably better than anyone except Max. There was no way he would do a complete 180 out of the blue. He was not the kind of guy that would change his mind that easily.

Seeing Alec sitting there, though, like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, made Dalton doubt himself. He'd been doing a lot of that in the past couple of days. Doubting.

They'd been through a lot together, him and Alec. He remembered the first time Alec had acknowledged him, during the siege at Jam Pony. He'd gotten such a charge when the larger-than-life X5 had assigned him as a lookout. After that, he'd basically followed Alec around like a puppy, though it was kind of embarrassing to admit it. He'd made a nuisance of himself, but instead of brushing him off as just an annoying kid, Alec had taken him under his wing, which had earned Dalton's undying devotion. And then there was the whole incident with the cure. After that, Alec became more than just a mentor. He became friend. Brother.

You didn't turn your back on your brother.

Dalton stepped out onto the roof.

"Alec?" he called out softly.

He didn't know how it was possible while he was sitting still, but Alec seemed to shrink away from him. "Go away," the X5 said, his voice deep and thick.

"I want to help," Dalton said, taking a few tentative steps closer.

Alec stiffened. "You want to help? Leave me alone. That's how you can help."

He was buckling under the weight of everything that had happened and everything that still needed to be done. The rings in his closed fist mocked him. Just when he'd finally worked up the courage to ask Max for forever, she'd been snatched away from him. Gone.

But not dead. Not dead.

No one would believe him. No one. They were all so helpful, offering their support, a shoulder to cry on—anything and everything except what he actually needed. He needed to save her, had to save her, but he would have to do it on his own.

He had no idea where she was, what White had done to her, or even how long she had to live. On top of that, before he could save her he had to first break out of Terminal city, which wouldn't be easy since the place was in lockdown, not to mention that they were watching him like a hawk. He'd use up precious time escaping from his own people. Once he did get out, and once he managed to track down where they were keeping her, he'd be one man against an unknown number of Familiars. He probably wouldn't stand a chance without backup, and they would probably both end up dying in the end, but still, he had to do it. Save her or die trying. There wasn't a third option.

Either way, they'd be together.

"If you're going after her, you're gonna need my help."

Alec froze. He turned slowly to face Dalton, not sure if he had heard what the kid had actually said or only what he had wanted to hear.

"What did you say?"

"I said you're gonna need my help to save Max."

Alec swung his legs back onto the roof and moved over to the young X6. "You believe me?" he asked, holding his breath, afraid to hope. "You believe she's still alive?"

Dalton made up his mind, once and for all. If there was anyone worth believing in, it was Alec.

"Yeah."

"Why?" Why, when no one else will believe me?

Dalton shrugged. "Because you do. I figure if anybody knows for sure, it's you."

Alec closed his eyes as tears of relief welled up. Dalton believed him. Finally, someone believed him. He wouldn't have to go it alone.

"So, what do we do now?" Dalton asked.

Alec opened his eyes. They seemed lit from within, fueled by renewed purpose and, for the first time, hope.

They went back to Max and Alec's apartment. Nothing overtly suspicious about that. The surveillance crew followed, but dropped back once they'd verified where Alec was going. They'd be watching the building, so they wouldn't be able to walk out the front, but Alec had a plan for that.

Earlier that day, Alec had broken through the wall that separated his apartment from the empty one next door. Although it was prime real estate, no one had wanted to take that one. Max and Alec did tend to get a bit noisy. No one had questioned Alec making all that racket because they assumed that he was working through his grief or something. Once in the other apartment, he had quietly cut through the drywall with a knife until he could access the main vertical heating duct. They'd use that to get to the basement, and then hopefully slip out undetected from there. But they had to go now, while most of TC was still milling around at the funeral.

Dalton jogged into Alec's bedroom. "Coast is as clear as it's going to get. As long as we're quiet, I think we…"

Dalton trailed off, eyes widening as he caught sight of Alec in the reflection of the mirror. He was settling a black cord over his neck, what must have been a pilfered boot lace. Dangling from the cord, two rings glinted in the dim light from the lamp. Smooth circlets, the kind he'd seen on the hands of ordinaries and in the movies.

Alec slipped the rings inside his shirt with a reverence that gave no doubt as to their significance. Dalton opened his mouth to say something, but the look on Alec's face when he turned around stopped him.

Those rings stood for everything that was at risk. Alec didn't need reminded of that.

As Alec pulled on his jacket, he slipped on the soldier as well, sinking down into that place inside himself that let him disconnect, so he could do what needed to be done without hesitation or remorse. It was a place he'd had to visit many times while a slave of Manticore—a place he'd sworn he'd never go to again.

He would do whatever it took to get Max back. If that meant once again becoming the killer Manticore had made him to be, then so be it. He'd worry about the stains on his soul later.

He grabbed his gun off of the dresser, checked the clip, then slid the weapon into his waistband.

"Let's move."

Logan Cale stamped the snow off of his boots as he struggled to open the door while holding an armload of firewood. Stupid to let it run out right before a snow storm, but he'd gotten sidetracked at his computer, as usual. He managed to finally get the door open and slipped inside, shivering as the difference in temperature hit him. He kicked the door shut with his foot, then turned to take to wood into the living room.

He let out a startled cry. There was a man, standing like a statue in the middle of his hall.

Logan dropped the wood, sending it clattering noisily to the floor. He pulled the gun that he now kept with him at all times, flicked off the safety, and aimed it at the intruder. He was about to demand to know who the guy was when his brain put the pieces together of what he was actually seeing.

"Alec?" he asked, so shocked that he forgot to lower the gun. He'd barely recognized him.

Alec's lips quirked slightly as he looked at gun still pointed at him, then back up at Logan. "You gonna shoot me?"

Logan blinked, then realized what he was doing. He clicked the safety back on and lowered the gun. "You scared the hell out of me!" he yelled. He tucked the gun back in his waistband and crouched to pick up the wood.

Logan expected a quick comeback, probably involving an insult or two, but he was surprised again when Alec just said, "Sorry."

He looked up at the X5 and then past him. "You're alone?" he asked, expecting to see someone with him like every other time Alec had visited him since he'd moved to this cabin well outside the city. He knew that Alec never went anywhere by himself these days. His brush with death had made him—or more likely, Max had forced him to be—a little less casual about his safety.

Alec nodded his head toward the window. "Dalton's outside."

Logan walked over to the big window in the living room, dropping the load of firewood in the rack near the fireplace on the way. He couldn't see anyone, which wasn't surprising; Dalton may have been a kid, but he was still a transgenic. "It's cold out there," Logan said, peering out into the snow, which appeared to be finally tapering off.

"It's safer that way," Alec said. When Logan turned and gave him a slightly alarmed look, he added, "For you. The kid still wants to beat you into a pulp." Logan raised his eyebrows at this. Alec shrugged. "He's very protective of me."

Logan's eyes narrowed as he caught his first true glimpse of Alec as he stepped into the light of the room. "I'm not trying to be a jerk, here, but you uh… you don't look so good."

Alec laughed, but it wasn't the type of laugh that Logan normally associated with the transgenic. This one was sharp, like broken glass. "That's the understatement of the century. I look like shit."

"Are you all right?" he asked, surprising himself when he realized that he was honestly concerned.

"No," the X5 said, sitting down on the edge of a large, overstuffed chair. He bent forward to rest his elbows on his knees and ran a hand through his damp, messy hair. "I'm not all right. I am so very far from all right."

Alec closed his bloodshot eyes for a moment, wishing there was time for sleep. Time, however, was something he did not have.

"I need your help."

Logan sat in stunned silence while Alec told him what had happened. The words poured out of the X5 as he paced, as if he were desperate to shed the burden of them as fast as he could. When he was done, Alec stopped pacing and turned to him, burning with frantic energy.

"I'd do the research myself, but I can't be gone too long. If I used the computers back at TC, they'd find out and probably lock me up again. And, to tell you the truth, I don't think I have the focus right now to do what needs to be done on that score."

Logan got up and moved across the room, sliding into the chair in front of his computer station. He was typing before he even sat down. "So you need me to help find her," he stated as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

Alec came up behind him. "You believe me?" he asked, incredulous. "Just like that? Without question?"

"Yes," Logan replied simply, his eyes glued to his screen.

Alec sat down on the edge of Logan's desk, more than a bit relieved that he wouldn't have to waste time trying to convince him. He shook his head. "Figures. The only person willing to believe me outright hates my guts."

"I don't hate you," Logan shot back immediately. His typing faltered as he caught the bullshit look Alec was sending his way. "Okay, I did hate you, but that's ancient history. For the most part," he qualified at the end.

Logan knew it was a sign of how messed up Alec really was right now that he let that one slide.

"So," Alec asked, "why do you believe me when everyone else thinks I'm nuts?"

Logan stopped typing and turned to him. "I thought Max was dead before, and I was wrong. I've learned not to jump to conclusions where she's concerned."

Logan spun his chair around and popped up out of it, moving swiftly over to the rack of shelves behind him that held equipment, external drives, hundreds of disks—everything an undercover cyberjournalist hacker needed. He began to flip through various disks, looking for one in particular.

"Hey," Alec exclaimed belatedly, standing and staring down at Logan's legs. "You're walking."

Without regular transgenic blood transfusions, Logan had been forced to rely on his exoskeleton to walk. Alec had finally noticed Logan's lack of hardware.

Logan smiled, continuing to flip through the disks. "Yeah. I volunteered for experimental procedure. Nanotechnology—real cutting edge stuff. Very extreme, very risky, but it paid off. They were able to repair the damage. It's all me now. I only use the exo when I need an extra boost."

"That's great," Alec said. "I'm happy for you, man."

The two of them fell into an awkward silence. They weren't used to dealing with each other outside of their usual insult-trading banter.

Alec stood suddenly. "I guess I should get going. We've got to get back before they realize we're gone."

"Wait," Logan said, moving back to the desk and grabbing a slip of paper. He scribbled down a number, then handed it to Alec. "It's my new number. Fully encrypted. I assume you don't want me contacting you at TC."

Alec nodded his thanks. "I'll be in touch."

He went to walk out of the room, but slowed as he caught sight of a woman's sweater hanging from the back of a chair. He reached out to touch it, fingers hesitating and drawing back before they made contact. "So…" he asked, "you and Asha. Are you…?"

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, feeling strangely defensive about his relationship with Asha. He'd always been defensive around Alec. Old habits died hard. "Yeah. We are."

Alec nodded, his mind drifting toward thoughts of Max. They'd only had a year. One short year, and all he could think of was all of the times he could have said I love you and didn't. When he got her back—not if, but when—he promised himself that he would tell her every day.

His hand went to rest over the spot where a pair of rings weighed heavy against his chest.

"Don't let her slip away, Logan. Life's too short."

It didn't take Logan long to find out where they were keeping her. By the time Alec called him back four hours later, Logan had already decreased the list of possibilities to two. He'd been tracking what he suspected were Familiar holdings for quite some time now, and it had been easy to narrow the playing field giving the timing and geographic location of Max's abduction.

After a brief discussion, they had decided that the most likely place was an old water treatment facility out by Cedar Falls, which was about forty-five minutes away from Seattle. It was the only location that made sense, both close to Seattle yet secluded enough so White and his pals wouldn't have to worry about the neighbors. A place like that would also have been built sturdy. Lots of thick concrete and steel—strong enough to hold a genetically enhanced human.

He hoped to God they were right.

Alec caught the body of the second sentry Wil had assigned to watch him before he hit the ground, lowering him the rest of the way. They'd taken him out just like they'd taken the other—with Dalton acting as a distraction while Alec came up behind them with a hypo full of tranquilizer. He'd covered their mouths and held on tight until the drug had taken affect. Dalton had liberated it from Vash's supply, so it didn't take long; it was geared for transgenics.

The X6 jogged over to him as Alec pulled the body across the roof and into the stairwell. They didn't want to leave the guy out in the elements. "So we've got, what, about thirty until they wake up?" he asked.

Alec stood. "Yeah," he said distractedly. There was a strange look on his face. Dalton figured he must be thinking about Max again.

"We better get going then," Dalton said.

He'd only taken a few steps when he was jerked backward. An arm wrapped around his neck, pulling across so his head was forced sideways. He heard the unmistakable hiss of the hypospray before he felt the accompanying sting against his neck.

Alec had drugged him. He was going to leave him behind.

"No!" Dalton yelled angrily, tugging against Alec's grip, but it was useless. The X5 held on tight until the drug began to work its magic, and Dalton's legs buckled.

"I'm sorry," Alec said, lowering him to the floor gently, "but I can't let you come with me."

"You c-can't… do thisss…" Dalton managed, already feeling his words slur. He grabbed Alec's jacket and tried to hang on, but he was fading fast. He had to stop him. He couldn't let Alec do this on his own.

"I have to. Trust me, it's better this way." The look of betrayal in Dalton's eyes broke Alec's heart.

He'd thought long and hard about it, while he'd been waiting to call Logan. Dalton was only a kid, and, transgenic or not, a kid wouldn't make that much of a difference against the Familiars. Last time he'd dragged Dalton along on a mission, they'd walked into a trap, and Alec had almost gotten him killed. He couldn't risk that again. Not when he was knowingly walking into a dangerous situation where there was a good chance he wouldn't make it out alive.

"I'm sorry," Alec repeated as he carefully pried Dalton's fingers from his jacket. He reached up and ruffled the X6's hair lightly. "Wish me luck, okay?" he whispered. Then he turned his back on the only ally he had and blurred down the stairs.

"Don't…" Dalton called out weakly, reaching out one last time before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Joshua had been roaming the tunnels for hours.

After the funeral, he'd been able to think more clearly, and he began to wonder what exactly had happened with Alec. He'd cornered Luke to find out what was going on, figuring he would be the one most likely to give him a straight answer.

What Luke had told him about Alec had disturbed him greatly, so he'd come to the tunnels to think. Zev had let him pass, making him promise that he wouldn't go far.

Even after hours in the tunnels, he still didn't know what to think. Had Alec really gone crazy for a while, thinking that Max was still alive when everyone else thought that she was dead? Would they think he was crazy too if he believed? Would he be? They were all so certain she was dead. No one doubted it… except Alec, at first. Supposedly he had come to terms with her death, but had he really? Wouldn't he have come to her funeral if he truly believed she was gone?

Joshua came to a stop just shy of a junction and reached up to rub his temples. Too many questions, not enough answers. It was enough to give you a headache.

Just then, something blurred past the junction. He reached out automatically to grab it.

Alec came to a skidding halt, his momentum jerking him around until he was face to face with Joshua. Before he could react, the dogman's hands closed tightly over his upper arms, and his friend pushed him backwards until he was pressed up against the side of the tunnel.

"No," Joshua growled. "Alec must not leave."

"Let go of me."

He shook his head. "Won't lose you too."

"I don't have time for this." Alec tried to break Joshua's grip, but he couldn't—at least, not without using more force than he wanted to use. He'd used the last of the tranquilizer on the tunnel sentry he'd come across, so that option was out. "I don't want to hurt you, Joshua, but I will if you don't let me go."

Joshua shrugged as if it didn't signify. "Already hurting."

He should have just done it—knocked him out and run like hell—but he couldn't. If it had been Mole or Wil or even Zev, he wouldn't have hesitated… he might have even enjoyed it a little bit. But this was Joshua. He couldn't hit Joshua.

"We've been friends for a long time," he said slowly. He had to remain calm. When everyone thought you were crazy, the number one thing you had to do was remain calm.

"We have," Joshua said, and Alec could feel his grip loosen slightly.

"And you trust me, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Then trust me now, because I've never needed it more in my life." He grabbed fists full of Joshua's coat and pulled him closer. "Max is alive. Do you hear me? She is alive. I know that as sure as I know that water is wet and the sky is blue. White has her stashed away somewhere. He's doing God knows what to her even as we speak. I can't leave her there."

His voice faltered. Don't think about it, he told himself. Focus on getting her out, and nothing else.

He needed Joshua to believe him. Just one more person to tell him he wasn't crazy. "I promised, Josh," he pleaded roughly. "I promised I wouldn't leave her. Please don't make me leave her."

Joshua stared down at him with his big puppy dog eyes for what seemed like forever. Just when Alec thought he would have to strike his friend down and most likely hate himself for all of eternity, Joshua spoke.

"One condition," he said. Alec looked wary. "Joshua go too," he added.

"It will be dangerous," Alec said, shaking his head even as his mind raced, considering the possibilities. Taking Dalton along was one thing, but Joshua.... He wasn't a kid, and he was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was still a risk, but one that he was more willing to take.

Joshua grabbed him by the shoulders. "All the more reason to go. Make sure you come back alive."

Alec sagged in relief, his head falling forward until it butted against Joshua's chest. "Thank you."

The two of them ran through the tunnels, side by side. They didn't care about avoiding the surveillance cameras. Speed was of the essence.

Joshua's feet flew across the floor of the tunnel as he did the best he could to keep up with the faster X5. Wherever Alec went, he would follow. He wasn't sure if he truly believed Max was alive, but he believed that Alec believed it. That was enough for him.

A/N: Reviews fuel the muse.