Disclaimer: I don't own Blade or any of its characters. I do Max, Xavier, Rev, and Cam, so no stealing!

Chapter 14: Real Life

"Well, well! If it isn't the reluctant hunter," Abby greeted as Max strode up to the warehouse doors, one hand held tightly over one of the grazings she'd received a few hours earlier. Abby was blocking her path, the modified rifle that shot silver stakes in her hand. "You look like hell."

"Whistler's dead, Abby," she told her bluntly and remained stoic as the other hunter paled. "The cops have Blade, and I'm guessing they work for Danica since she set us up and put us on the news in the first place."

"I know. We saw the report," she replied seriously, sighing. "They said they'd apprehended the sociopath known as Blade, and his base of operations was destroyed, but his two accomplices remained unfound, presumed dead. We were worried; now we know the truth…"

"Sorry to drag you into this, Abby," she said sincerely, looking at her sadly. She hated that she has to deliver the news of Whistler's death; it wasn't right.

"Me, too," she replied simply with a nod. "But we both knew it was gonna happen sooner or later."

Behind Abby, the doors to the Nightstalkers' headquarters opened and Zoë ran out. Both King and Abby had mentioned her before, and Max briefly remembered reading a book to her a few times before. Sommerfield kept the little girl hidden very well in the warehouse, and Max didn't meet her until about three months after she'd joined up. In the nine months that she'd been with the Nightstalkers, she'd become something of an aunt to Zoë, just like Abby.

"Hi, Max," the little girl greeted sweetly, smiling up at Max.

"Hi, Zoë," she replied, trying to smile and failing miserably as she grimaced.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm…wondering what I'm doing here," she joked, looking around with tear filled eyes. It was no lie. Max was indeed wondering what she was doing there, despite Whistler's orders, when she should've been tracking down Blade.

"There's plenty of room in side, Max. Help yourself to what you need," Abby told her encouragingly. "Especially the showers," she added, waving her hand in front of her nose jokingly

"Thank you," she replied with a nod and all three walked inside.

"You're welcome."

"Welcome back to the Honeycomb Hideout, Max," Dex called from the basketball court with Hedges.

"Yeah! Hey, Max!" Hedges called. "Glad to see your all right," he added.

"Yeah, girl! Ain't it great to be alive?" Dex asked, smiling at her, but Max simply waved to both of them. No, it wasn't great to be alive, especially when Whistler wasn't and Blade was in the custody of the police.

Zoë soon ran off to her mother in her lab, and Abby led Max to the weapons locker, where King stood waiting. Max could just tell by his stance that he was disappointed in her. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against Hedge's worktable, staring her down and shaking his head. As the two women approached him, King grabbed the shot gun behind him and placed the barrel under his chin.

"You wanna pull the trigger, or should I?" he asked and Max looked down at the floor, feeling like a stupid child. King sighed, and she looked up at him again, expecting a scolding. "Oh, Max! You're crashing on me, baby. I said you'd crash, and you are crashing," he told her, setting the gun aside.

"I just want to get him out, get him here and safe, time to heal," she explained helplessly. "Give him a chance," she begged desperately, and both Abby and King knew that she meant Blade.

"He's already dead, Max. He's got no chance," King reminded her seriously. "Don't go down with him."

"Are you saying that because you don't think we could pull it off, or because you're afraid to go up against Danica and her pussy whipped posse?" she asked bitterly, crossing her arms and staring him down.

"HEY!" Abby shouted at them, stepping in between the two. "We don't have time for this. We don't have a choice in this! We need Blade, period. We've gotta get to the police station, get Blade, and get out. No more bullshit! It's time we told him what the vampire's are up to, because he's back."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Max asked, looking between the two of them. "Suit up."

"Uh, first things first, sugar butt," King said quickly, pulling Max by her injured and bleeding arm. "You need a shower and medical attention because, while I find the alluring mixture smell of the toxic L.A. ocean and blood extremely sexy, I think you might give away our position," he told her seriously as he lead her to the bathrooms.

"Yeah, I might," she agreed, smiling slightly.

As they stopped inside the wide bathroom, Max stepped in front of a mirror and looked at herself. Abby was right, she looked like hell. She was soaked to the bone, shivering and freezing cold. She was pale from the minor blood loss, and she felt ill from the wind chill she received on her run to Headquarters. King watched her from the door as she removed her now ruined guns and her fairly undamaged sword from her back. He walked forward and took the weapons with a shake of his head.

"Hedges is gonna kill you," he commented, looking at the guns.

"I don't give a shit," she said quietly, and King looked up at her. He thought she had been joking but when he saw her he knew different. Max's eyes were transfixed on her hands, and it was then that he really noticed the stains of blood on them. He didn't know whose it was, but he had a good idea. Setting the weapons on the ground for the moment, he took her wrists in his hands and made her look up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked seriously, staring her down.

"No, I am so fucking far from okay," she replied honestly, her eyes filling up with tears again. "Whistler's dead. He's dead, and Blade is…why me?" she asked, pulling back from him and putting space between them. "Why did I get out? How the fuck did I get to be so damn lucky?" she asked bitterly.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, babe," he replied seriously, shifting on his feet as he observed her, hugging herself and unconsciously spreading the blood on her clothes.

"Just don't ask me what I'm thinking, okay? I can't handle it…"

"What do you want me to do!" he shouted helplessly. "I'm gonna help you and Abby get Blade out! That's what you wanted, isn't it?" Max remained silent, her eyes set firmly on the floor. "What do you want from me, Max? I can't do anything unless you talk to me, so talk to me! What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong?" she retorted, and shook her head. "Whistler is…was like a father to me, and now he's dead. I mean, if that fucking bitch hadn't…oh, my God," she breathed, ceasing her ranting and anger as she slid down to the floor, leaning against the wall behind her.

"What's wrong, babe?" King asked worriedly, rushing over to her. "Max, baby, what's wrong?" he repeated, kneeling in front of her, hands on her knees.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault," she told him quietly, her eyes filling up with tears. That was one thing that King had never seen, and it frightened him. "Those fucking cops never would've found us if it wasn't for me. I was so damn stupid!"

"Max, what the hell are you talking about?" he asked in confusion.

"We were followed back to the docks," she told him. "We must have been! That's the only way they would've found us!"

"That makes absolutely no sense and is impossible," he told her slowly, though she could tell he wasn't so sure about the truth behind his statement. "You and Whistler are always so careful. Blade, well…he's, uh…well, he's Blade." Max smiled at his poor attempt at humor.

"I know you saw the news report, the video of Blade and I killing that Familiar," she stated, her eyes boring into him, and he nodded. "I should never have gone back into the city with Whistler. My face was bound to be all over the tabloids and it was! Whistler bought one and it had all three of our faces on it! How could I have been so fucking stupid?"

"Max –"

"I killed Whistler! I killed him, and I got Blade caught! It's my fault! Mine!"

"No, it's not," he said forcefully, taking hold of her shoulders. "Listen to me!" he shouted at her, and she looked him dead in the eyes. "It is not your fault that Whistler is dead. Hell, the old man knew he was gonna die soon anyway! Whistler gave up his life to give you the opportunity to get to us, so we could get Blade's head out of his fucking butter knife –"

""Butter knife"?" she interjected with an amused smile.

"Yeah, that stupid sword of his. He really needs a weapons upgrade. Look what it did for you," he explained, and she chuckled lowly. "Anyway, Whistler died so we could finally open up Blade's eyes, and we're going to do that just as soon as we rescue him from those fuckers."

"Well, then, what are we waiting for?" she asked with renewed confidence, but the guilt still lingered. Max rose to her feet with King's help and started for the door when he grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. "What? Come on, we gotta go!"

"Yeah, but, um, babe, remember what you came in here for?" he asked, and her eyes looked around the shower then down at her body.

"OH!"

P.S.: Four pages total.