A/N: Next time… before emailing me and threatening me with bodily harm… just look at my profile page… I do update info on there. :P


Castaway

Chapter 9: Last Ditch


They weren't hazel, not exactly. Not like his father's, anyway. And they weren't brown like hers, not really. Max knew, because she spent so much time looking into them. Max remembered how Alec had grinned in delight as those light blue eyes had deepened into a beautiful conglomeration of deep, deep brown, flecked with gold. Not Alec's eyes. Not Max's eyes. A combination of the two.

She smiled reassuringly into those curious light-dark eyes. Jaime looked again at his father in open mouthed wonder as Alec's voice lost a little of its tight control.

"We don't have a choice, Max."

Her hand ghosted through Jaime's wispy brown hair. Her voice was every bit as steady as her hand. "You're right. We don't have a choice." She continued before her self-assured mate could lean back in victory. "There's no choice because it's the stupidest thing you've ever suggested and there's no way in hell I'll ever consider it, much less let you go through with it. You're not going."

Alec paused, and then countered with the best argument he had. "What kind of life is this for a child, Max?"

She wanted to explode. It always came back to that, didn't it? He needed a new selling point, because that pitch was getting old.

What kind of life was this? No hospitals. No fast food. No friends… Max wanted to shout at him, yes, she was well aware that, in a lot of ways, their situation sucked.

But then again… maybe there's not any hospitals here, but there's no Ames White either. Maybe their kid would live without the benefit of electricity and plumbing and fast food, but so did millions of other kids and they weren't defective in any way.

Defective.

And maybe Jaime'd never have friends, but no one would ever tell him he was defective. No one would ever spit on him or call him an animal or try to make him less than what he was.

Perfect.

Max smiled again into those wide-eyes. And she knew exactly what kind of life this was for her son; safe.

And then she remembered what she and Alec were arguing about in the first place and some of the anger came back. But as much as she wanted to yell at Alec, she was holding Jaime, and Jaime was rapidly losing the ability to keep his eyes open. And while Jaime frequently proved the myth of 'babies don't sleep' completely wrong, Max could never bring herself to disturb him when his lids started drooping. So she'd have to save the yelling for later.

Max looked down at her son. She looked back up at Alec, shrugging nonchalantly (and gently). "I'm sensing he doesn't have an opinion."

"Well, sure, now." Alec rolled his eyes. "But what about when he's older? What about when he's a teenager? An adult? What about when we eventually die, Max, what about then?" Max's arms tightened around Jaime, as if her grip could stop all those terrible eventualities from ever coming to pass. "He'll be alone, Max. We have to figure out a way to get off this damn island."

He took her silence as a form of unhappy agreement and pushed his argument home. "I've got to take the boat out and see if there's any other chains around us."

It wasn't the first time they'd had this argument. Jaime was a week old now. Which meant that this argument had lasted for 6 days and 14 hours (give or take a few hours).

Max looked past Alec. She looked at the ocean stretching out for miles. Sometimes when Max looked at the sea, she saw a buffer, a wall that kept the outside world from intruding on her happiness, on her son's safety. Now, all she could see was choppy waves lapping hungrily at the shore. Greedy fingers, waiting to take her mate from her. Her memory helpfully supplied the terror of being hunched in a rocking boat as the wind howled. And then, as an added bonus, creatively supplied a picture of Alec's lifeless body floating amidst wreckage.

She rocked Jaime, rocked the image away. His lids were shutting now, slowly. Darting back open, to look at his father as Alec moved away. Falling again, heavily, sleepily. Max's eyes fell shut too, but her face was tight, noticeably lacking the peace her son found so quickly.


Terse whispers pulled Jaime from sleep. He was no longer in his mother's arms, but on top of a warm fur pelt, thin material, his father's shirt, tucked under his arms. His eyesight was less blurry then it'd been on the day of his birth, but still not fully developed. It usually took strong patterns or his mother's face to enrapture him. Bright colors had the ability to fascinate him too. Jaime's eyes fixated on the vibrant orange of the ceiling tarp, oblivious to the argument in the other room.

"Safe? It's not safe here, Max. Every day we're here is just another day we're damn lucky a hurricane hasn't hit us. Another day that some fucking jungle cat isn't hungry enough to try it's luck."

"You think out there is safe?" She protested, arm flailing wide to indicate where 'out there' was. "With White and the war and… and I hate to say it, but Ordinaries? This is the safest place for our family, Alec."

Alec's disgruntled groan broke Jaime's concentration and he realized he was hungry. The whimper was quickly replaced by a wail. Then warm hands were lifting him, supporting him.

"Can you not watch while I do this?" His mother's voice reverberated in her chest, rumbled through his cheek.

"Embarrassed?" His father's strong presence, leaning in the door frame.

"Ass." Max muttered, hefting Jaime more surely across her front.

"Fine." Alec pushed away from the doorway. "We can finish this... conversation... in the morning."

His mother's voice sounded more like it had in the womb when it was filtered through her chest. It was comforting, soothing, and Jaime was lulled back to sleep by his mother's gently spoken words.

"He even looks at that boat, I'll find a way to hack it to pieces. Yes, I will. Won't I, Jaime? That'll show big, tough Alec who's in charge. Yes it will, won't it? And then I'll kick his ass. 'Cuz no one messes with mommy, do they, Jaime?" She crooned until Jaime's open mouthed snores deepened and he could be put back to bed.

And then, when both her husband and her child were in bed, she went out to the beach and stared hatefully at the boat.

The wonders of parenthood had brought even more panic and fear than the pregnancy had. Fears like, oh my god, we know nothing about babies except they don't sleep, make messes, and support of the head seems crucially important. So far the head support and the messes were a go, but the alertness was a big n-o. Jaime slept… a lot. He was the anti-shark, if you will.

Alec's panic extended past how much Jaime slept and extended into where Jaime slept… or more accurately, where he was going to sleep for the rest of his life. Alec had a big problem with the idea that Jaime would never know anyone besides his parents. Never have friends. Never know the love of another human being. Never be near an all important hospital. And that fear had propelled him to suggest that he take the boat out a few miles, see if anything didn't pop up on the horizon. What was so wrong with that?

First of all, Max scowled to herself, a sudden storm and he could be pushed so far from the island, he'd never make it back. Max trusted in transgenic abilities, but she didn't count star navigation on her list of acquired skills and she certainly wasn't adding it to his. Not to mention the fact that a storm could sink the boat. Traversing the ocean on a very slim chance they might get out of here was nowhere near as important to her as keeping Alec alive.

Call her crazy, but she actually kinda liked the guy.

Even if he did suck at creeping up on her.

"Staring angrily at a boat isn't going to make my arguments any less reasonable."

She kicked a bit of sand at him. "Shut up," She scowled. "The answer is still no."

His hand ghosted across her shoulder. "Who said I was asking?" He teased. His face went serious when she whirled on him. "Just kidding?" He added hopefully, hoping to forestall the angry tirade that was surely building. No such luck.

"I can't believe you'd be stupid enough to even consider it. And by yourself, no less!" She was pacing now, creating funnels in the moon drenched sand. "It's dangerous! What if you capsize? What if there's a storm? What if-"

He reached out and stopped her gently mid-pace, turning her to face him.

"That's a lot of what if's, Max." He countered. "Well, I've got some what-if's too. What if, just beyond the horizon, there's another island? One that holds life of the bipedal, frontal lobe, English-speaking variety? What if our chance of rescue is just beyond sight? We owe it to ourselves to at least check."

"Why now?" She demanded, her eyes searching his. "We've been here all this time. Why do you want to do it now?"

"I thought about it before… but I couldn't risk-" He glanced away, knowing the admission would cost him points in this argument. "If something had happened… I couldn't bear the thought that I was leaving you all alone… forever."

"Oh, I get it." She exploded, "So if you die out there, NOW it'll be okay, because I have Jaime to keep me company."

"C'mon, Max…" His voice was tired, but he'd get no sympathy from her.

"Don't 'c'mon' me. Your argument stinks and if your idea isn't the stupidest thing I've ever heard, then it's by far the the most reckless. Now more than ever, it's a bad idea, because you have a son, Alec. You can't just… just risk yourself like that."

He sighed, the long suffering sigh of defeat. But his sigh told her all she needed to know. No, he didn't think she was being unreasonable. In fact, he knew how dangerous this little stunt of his could turn out to be. But if it saved them from a life of monkey, mango, and solitude, he'd risk it. The thrill of victory turned to ash in Max's mouth.

What victory could come from a lose-lose situation? The real question, though, was which would she rather risk losing; her chance of rescue or her mate? She knew as well as he how the ocean distorted the perception of distance. She knew, like him, that just below the grey haze of the curved horizon, another island could be waiting. But to her, the chance would never be worth the risk. She'd lost too many brothers and sisters. No way in hell she was gonna lose a husband.

"You know I'll always come back to you." His voice was soft in the darkness.

She shot a quicksilver smile at the horizon as he moved away. It was more of a pained grimace than anything else. He'd certainly proved that adage time and time again. In Seattle, he'd kept coming back even after telling him to get lost had become habitual. In that split second, she knew she'd let him go. Not only because his wariness told her he wouldn't be taking unnecessary risks... Also because come hell and high water, she trusted him to return to her.

That didn't mean she'd let him run off without any ground rules, though.

"Daytime, only." Her soft voice made him pause in the doorway. "No rowing unless you have to. Use the rest of the gas. Once all the gas is gone, we give up and make the best of it." She turned to look at him. "Deal?"

His smile was slight but warm. His eyes, warm as well, but with a hint a strain and a grain of fear. This wasn't something that Alec wanted to do. It was something he had to do.

Max prayed that the morning would bring rain and he would never leave.

The morning donned bright and beautiful and warm and didn't that just frickin' figure. Only a handful of clouds dotted the sapphire sky, but they were high and wispy and experience had taught Max that even if they were pushed to the island, they would bring no rain and only a slight breeze

Max refused to say goodbye to him. She stared sulkily past him as he kissed Jaime on the forehead. Her moved to her, rubbed her suddenly cold arms with large, warm hands. She looked into his eyes and then looked past him.

She wouldn't say it. He couldn't make her say it.

"C'mon Max-"

"You tell me to kiss you goodbye, and the whole deal's off."

His mouth twisted in sour amusement and his hands dropped away. "Fine. I'll see you in a few hours."

He was almost out the door, and Max felt a gnawing sense of loss, a quick flash of fear and the emotions had her speaking before she was entirely sure what she wanted to say.

"Wait!" Don't leave us.

He paused at the threshold, the muscles tensing under his skin, and Max was once again struck with the knowledge. This wasn't something he wanted to do. This was something he had to do. For her. For Jaime. For him. For peace of mind.

"What about your shirt?" She finished, slightly lamely.

He looked down at the bronzed skin of his chest, looked back at the soft white of Jaime's skin, still new to this world, tucked under the light grey fabric. He couldn't bring himself to go pick it up, to rouse the boy from slumber, to take away his warmth, his protection. And if Alec was to never return, the only link he'd ever have of his father.

Alec snorted. Jeez. When'd he get all nancy-pants, sissified, girl-fantastic? Never to return? And he'd thought Max was being melodramatic. Still he cast a quick glance back at Max, at Jaime, right before he winked at her and made himself walk out the door.

Neither Max or Alec needed to have worried. The day stayed bright and clear and Alec had no problem navigating the small skiff out to sea. If Max had taken Jaime to a high outcropping, and had taken the time to look, she'd have been able to find the boat bobbing in the waters to the south. But she had more important things to do, like take care of Jaime and spend the day telling herself nothing was going to happen.

He went out, and then a little further, and then a little further. Well aware that Max would not be watching, he used the oars more often than not, awkward though it may be, to conserve gas. After all, he still had north and west to scout out. He was relatively sure there were no islands past the small islets to the east, that having been the direction they'd come from when they'd first landed on the island.

No islands appeared in the southern waters.

Fair enough. There were other places to look.

Part of Alec still believed they were somewhere near the Equator, possibly even in the Polynesians, based upon the warmth, the length of day, the warmer winter days, the dry summer months… Still, while the islands at the center of the Polynesians were clustered together, those at the edges were widespread, sprawling. If they were on the outskirts of the large sea area… With only the strength of his back to propel him through the water, it might take days in any one direction to find another landmass. And even then it'd be like hoping to hit a straw with a dart aimed miles away, where the slightest shift in angle could make you go wide of the mark entirely.

Crappiest game ever.

He came back tired, but not exactly without hope. And he came back surprised as well, because there was the beginning of a good sized fire pit on the beach.

"There's another one at the top of the waterfall." Max grunted, shoveling more sand. She paused to wipe hair from her eyes. "And I started a log pile."

"Ahh, arts and crafts, X-series style." Alec nodded sagely. "I like it."

"It's a signal fire, you moron." Max rolled her eyes at his idiocy. "Just in case…"

Alec wanted patiently for her to finish the sentence. And then helpfully supplied her with one with she wasn't quick enough. "Just in case that tropical cruise liner we never see happens to steam past here?" He questioned, his voice too chipper to be anything but biting. "Ooh, I know. Next time Santa Claus does a low fly-by, we can crank it up and then you, me, Jaime, Donner and Blitzen, we can all sit around the campfire, roast marshmallows and sing kumbaya."

"Alec."

"Yeah?"

"Shut up." She growled. "I'm not building it on the chance of rescue. I'm building it so you can find your way back to me."

Alec shut up. More like he couldn't form the words with his jaw hanging openly like that. He finally found a word, but it wasn't particularly eloquent or dignified. Or even a word.

"Erm…"

"Shut up." She reiterated, digging angrily into the soft sand. Displays of affection weren't her thing. Forced displays of affection even less so.

Alec said the smartest thing he'd said all day. "Shutting up now."


Day two of the great water expedition. Day nine in the life of Jaime. Day one in the bottom half of Max's shirt being ripped up and creatively tied around Jaime's lower half for a quick fix sumo-style nappy. Yeah, so she'd have to clean it every time Jaime wet, or otherwise, himself, but it was better than the alternative. Nothing at all.

Alec came home from the northern sea slightly more depressed. Still no luck. The sight of Max in half her shirt was slightly refreshing, though.

"You've seen me naked, stupid. What about this is so fascinating?" She finally huffed, crossing her arms under her breasts, above her bared midriff. Didn't help the situation, in Alec's mind.

"Something different," He shrugged, brushing a kiss across her neck. Max was tempted to get mad at him (what, she was old and unexciting now and it took a wardrobe change to get him interested?) but his lips against her skin was… well…

They both stiffened, broke apart from each other, and moved off in separate directions, Alec to check on Jaime, Max to get back to work on her latest project.


Day three and Alec wasn't pulling anything over on her.

"What do you mean there's some gas left?"

"Just a bit. Enough to cross the lagoon and check the waters a little bit farther to the west."

"You've been gone hours at a time. How could there possibly be any gas left?"

"Most fuel-efficient boat ever." Alec said blandly.

Max smirked at him, and sauntered slowly over to him. Alec suddenly felt very… well… Men do not feel trapped nor in any way prey-like. Especially not when they're Alec. Not even when Max is smiling in that particularly evil way. Alec's left foot twitched in an attempt to flee, but luckily his knee was manly enough to keep it in place.

"You're not lying to me, are you Alec?" Max smiled up at him, leaning in. Alec blinked dumbly as fear was replaced by intoxication.

"Course not," He smiled into her eyes, the hairs on the back of his neck bristling (in fear or arousal, who knows?) as her hands trailed up his forearms, past his elbows, to his biceps-

Oh shit.

"What the hell, Alec." Her grip tightened on his biceps. His recently heavily used, and now stiff, biceps.

"What?" He asked innocently.

"Don't what me!" She stepped away from him and he was disappointed to realize her coquette act had been indeed to lure him in to produce the evidence she needed. "You've been doing more rowing than anything else!"

"Maybe." He hedged.

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. So did his.

"Come on, Max. I'm really trying here."

"Trying to what? Exhaust yourself and get yourself killed?!" She exploded.

"Trying to get us off this damn island!" He roared back. "You think a single can of gas would have cut it? I'm doing this for us, damnit!"

A wail from the other room made Max's face stiffen. "Oh, great. Wake my son, why don't you?"

"Me?" He asked incredulously, following her into Jaime's room. "You're the one with the shrill, piercing voice. And what's this 'my' son crap?"

She beat Alec to Jaime's bed by a moment, lifting her son before her mate could. "My voice is not piercing."

He shrugged, his weight shifting into his heels. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say… … …" He coughed into his hand. "Banshee."

Max growled in frustration. And then realized why Jaime was crying. It wasn't their shouting. She handed Jaime to a nonplussed Alec.

"Change your son."

"Oh sure." Alec rolled his eyes, "Jaime has a wet diaper and all of the sudden he's my kid again."

Her arms crossed, her eyebrow lifted in sadistic pleasure. "Oh, it's not just wet."

"…I hate you."

"Yeah, well, welcome to parenthood."

Once the sordid business of diaper changing was behind him, the young man went west.

And didn't return east until almost night fall, tired, aching, and drenched. Max had tried to light the fire for him… one problem. Heavy rain, fire, and wet logs don't equal combustion. More of a unhappy smoldering than anything else. She knew the trail of smoke wouldn't be enough for Alec to make it home if night set in. So she paced the length of their home, out of her mind with worry. It was the perfect end to the perfect fucking day.

He walked in the door and ducked just in time to avoid the arc of her fist.

"Where have you been?" She demanded, moving again to cuff the back of his head. His solid wrist blocked her blow and he pulled her in close, lifted her against him. It was a kiss, but it was devouring and empty and pained. He shoved her against the wall, and the bamboo's creak of protest was enough to pull her back to her senses and away from his mouth.

"Oh, Alec," She whispered, pained, her hands coming up to cup his face in a rare gesture of tenderness.

"Fucking current caught the boat and pulled me farther than I expected." He broke away from her angrily, pulling his sodden shirt from his cold, wet body. "And then the sudden rain and the west fucking wind didn't help things."

She knew he wasn't only angry about how long it took him to get back... "There wasn't… anything?"

"If there was I would have fucking seen it." He stalked into the bedroom. She heard the wet slap of his shirt hitting the wall forcefully.

She stood in the doorway as he sat on the pallet and worked to remove his sodden jeans. "There's still northwest, and southeast, and-"

"Just forget it, Max. You're right. We're never getting off this damn island." The jeans hit the ground with a sickly plop.

"But-"

"But nothing." He looked up at her, the pain of defeat making his eyes burn bright. "If there is any islands near us, they're likely days away and-" His voice failed and Max saw the glimmer of fear hidden behind the anger.

He looked up at her and saw the recognition in her eyes. "I thought I wouldn't make it back." He admitted, his throat clenching. "The waves kept pushing me west and all I could think about was you and Jaime. I used the rest of the gas and every ounce of will I've got to…" His voice died in his throat.

"To come home?" She supplied, gently.

His head fell into his hands.

"Alec, you didn't fail." She sat next to him. "We said you'd look. You looked. You didn't see anything. Maybe there's an island a few days away. We don't have the means to find some... some hypothetical island..." She leaned in to him, to drive the point home. "You're not a failure."

"Then why do I feel like one?" He asked. "We're X-5's. We're supposed to rescue ourselves."

She didn't have an answer for him. So she changed the subject, soft of. "So, there's no more gas?"

His eyes found hers. Even if she already knew it, the storm had shaken him more than he'd ever admit aloud. The possibility of being separated from his family had come closer to a terrifying reality then he'd ever want to live through again. "No more gas. No more looking for other islands. Just you, me, and the squirt, now."

And then they held each other because even though the hope of rescue had been a long shot, even improbable dreams die painful deaths.


"Happy one month to yoooooooou. Happy one month to yooooouuu-"

"Ummm…"

"Happy one month, little Jaime…"

"Seriously."

"Happy one month to you."

"Wow, and I thought I'd be the one getting all mushy and weird." Alec smirked at her from the door way.

"Shut up and kiss your son on his one month anniversary." She proferred the baby as if he was an offering to the lips of Alec.

"His one month anniversary? Please tell me you're joking." He stepped forward and brushed a kiss across Jaime's forehead anyway. And then gave one to Max to, because motherhood brought out ridiculously fabulous sides of her that he never knew existed. Like niceness and public (well, in front of Alec anyway) singing and lots of smiling. Go figure.

"Hey, I forgot to show you, look at this." Max turned to Jaime and scrunched up her face. Alec laughed as Jaime scrunched up his face in mimicry. And then Max and Alec both stopped as Jaime's face split into a wide, happy smile.

"Woah, he's never done that before." Alec said in amazement.

The young parents looked at their child in amazement. Then shared a glance.

"God, can you imagine what we'll do when he says his first word?" Alec chuckled.

"Break out the coconuts and party likes it's 1999… b.c.?" Max joked wryly.

Alec smirked. Then outright grinned when Jaime tried to mimic his father's smirk. He failed of course, and just ended up smiling some more, but his son's effort more than made up for Max coming after Alec for "subverting" their child.


Every day was the same and yet vastly different. Guess those old public service announcements were right. Having a kid really did change everything. Alec smiled, watching Max hold Jaime gently upright in the shallows of the waterfall. Who'da thought; to be this young and settled down already…

And then with a start he realized he wasn't that young anymore. He was 21 when he'd met Max- Holy crap, he was probably 24. And if he wasn't 24, he was probably close to it. Downside of not knowing your real birthday is not knowing for sure what age to bemoan. He decided to stick with his made up birthday. Which meant he was 23 for another month and a half. Sweet.

Okay, so maybe most people wouldn't count 24 as old. But given the fact that he never thought he'd make it past 30… hey, he was doin' pretty damn good.

Jaime's hands slapping happily in the water brought Alec crashing back to reality. And rather then spend time thinking about the paths his life could have taken, he happily rejoined the one it did.


End Chapter 9…