Title: THE MISSION (Chapter 14)
Synopsis: The cure for the virus keeping Max and Logan apart may still be out there. Alec is sent on a mission to recover it, but will his mission change everything in ways no one ever anticipated? [Alec & Max: Romance/Angst/Action]
Notes: The weather didn't cooperate—we've had a nice stretch that didn't give me any time to write… but I found it anyway so I wouldn't leave you all hanging too long. The finish line is in sight… but we're not there just yet. Still more to come.
# # # #
A soft rain pecked at the windows of the dilapidated house. They gray, peeling paint was a sad reminder of the home's better days. The porch sagged (as did the roof) and even rats thought twice before moving in. Sure, they did it, but it was only until they could find better digs when their luck turned for the better. Water drooled over the lip of the roof, leaving puddles in the muddy trace that should have been the sidewalk. Still, the sole human resident didn't mind. Despite what the rest of the hellhole looked and smelled like, you really couldn't beat the view.
"I have something," Ames White said into his phone as he peered out of the grimy (yet amazingly) unbroken windows.
He was not happy with his new taskings. He wasn't happy with his new partners—not that they acknowledged they were partners in this. They thought he worked for them. They were, of course, wrong. Pathetic, frail, greedy, ordinary and randomly conceived humans. They were weak and wanting. They were needy; they needed him. They knew it; they were just too arrogant to admit it.
He had been on the run, sort of, for nearly a year. His own people, those who were his true family, had turned their back on him and blamed him for the intrusion of media and investigators into their lives, their world. Their bank accounts were frozen. Their identities catalogued and backgrounds researched. They were forced to run, to leave their lives (their cover lives) in the dark of the night so they could regroup and plan. And they blamed him for it.
Yes, he was the one who was identified by the senate subcommittee first as belonging to the so-called cult. How he went from the heroic and brave whistler-blower who warned the world about the threat that was the Manticore transgenics for being the poster boy for something worse remained a mystery. He had his money on Logan Cale, the extra pathetic and ordinary human who needed an exoskeleton to amulate. Or at least, he had needed it. White's intel said he had ceased needing it sometime ago but apparently did still employ it for an unknown purpose. White figured it was for his own protection—a little boost of speed and strength just in case. That was wise, in White's mind. The guy might just need it sometime—especially if White's former brethren caught up with him, which they might do, just not with White's help. No, his mission was much different now.
He was all about survival. His survival and the survival of his own line: His son. White no longer cared what happened to his former so-called family. They threw him to the wolves when the government began asking questions they couldn't answer or deflect, then they ran like scared mice. He was left in the wind with no resources to find his son or protect himself. So, he did what a few centuries of breeding selection taught him: Fend for himself with the best offer possible because survival was everything. Fen'stol that assholes, he thought.
"What do you have?" the sneering and annoyed tone of the white-haired harpy he was working with crackled over the call.
"X-452," he said then paused. A knowing smile played across this thin lips as he waited.
There was a lengthy silence on the other end. He knew this freak's location was all they wanted. They didn't care about anyone or anything else. They wanted that abomination for themselves. Whether it was to build another just like or chop her up and put her in a jar, he didn't care. He and his employers were in business for one reason only: They wanted the same thing, just for different reasons. White wanted to find 452 because she knew were his son was. His business partners could have her afterward. He had been looking for a way to get to her since his fellow cult members failed to destroy the entire compound referred to as Terminal City months earlier. Prior to that, he had spent several months trying to put together a network of contacts to help him find his son. This was made doubly difficult by an unwanted stay in what he thought of as the enemy's camp.
He had been too soft, he knew, and blamed that on the years he spent with his wife. When he brought his brother back into custody and back to the cult's compound, he had set up a different location for his brother. CJ was insane and dangerous because he thought he knew what was right. He was a stain on their family's lineage, but he was still family and White felt his brother could prove useful because of CJ's knowledge of their father, a brilliant and eminent geneticist. Dr. Ezra Sandeman needed to die. That was the second order of business after finding his son, in White's estimation.
The old man had screwed up finally. White was nearly convinced the twisted bastard was dead until his safe house for CJ was hit by some commandos. If stealing CJ was all they had done, White could have lived with that. Hell, taking CJ off his hands (maybe even killing him if it came to that) would have been a favor in the end probably, but they didn't stop with absconding with his little brother. No, they neutralized him as well. He wondered, as he woke in the bright but barren room with an electronic tracking device on his ankle, what was the point of holding him hostage as surely no one would make a swap for him. The place hardly seemed like a torture chamber with is muted colors, tolerable temperature and clean appearance. Then he heard it: the cane.
The old man walked right into his room, or cell or whatever it was supposed to be, and looked at him with those watery and disappointed eyes. He had the audacity to call him son and thank him for looking out for his brother. White sneered at the memory.
"Did you hear me, White?" his partner demanded again over the phoen, a huffy and agitated tone in her voice. "I asked you where she is?"
"Hidden, but I've nearly got her tracked," he said evasively, dragging his mind back to the job at hand.
He sat in the derelict building opposite the target house, the one that made him want to grind his teeth when he recognized it: the house where Cale now took up residence. The audacity of the man to move into White's childhood home and let that transgenic filth walk the floors and do who knows what else with her in their rooms—hell, he probably bent his slutty, little, kitty over a chair in White's old bedroom, he thought with a nauseous twist to his gut.
"Then grab her," Renfro snapped. "This isn't rocket science."
"I said she's hidden," he replied. "I have a solid lead. I should be able to… grab her soon."
"Just tell me where she is and I will have my team do it," she replied.
"No," he answered. "Your team botched picking up 494. Nice job, by the way. Word is that he's back in Seattle again and blending in nicely."
"Meaning what?" she asked.
"He doesn't register on a thermo-sensor anymore," White explained
White actually spotted 494 in the market district a few days earlier. He followed the transgenic for a few blocks and was amazed to see that his body temperature registered like an ordinary. From the way he struggled to get up a fire escape like a normal person, he'd lost his Speedy Gonzales skills as well.
"I'm amazed he survived," Renfro said. "We should have dosed him a little more. I guess Don Lydecker did get her in the nick of time."
"Lydecker?" White snarled. "He's the one who sprung your pet from the lab? Huh."
"Why?" Renfro asked, not sure why that was relevant.
As far as Renfro was concerned, White was just an operative, a convenient tracker—one of many—scouring places high and low in various cities for X-452—and not proven as one of her best. It had been months since he had a good lead. The only proof Renfro had previously that didn't die in the attack White's freaky family tree launched on Terminal City was a sketchy report from the now deceased James Cranston. She wasn't really sure that was a solid bit of intel anyway. For someone known for going straight at her target when one of her people was in enemy hands, 452 had remained very much on the sidelines while 494 was being worked on; Renfro had other reasons to doubt Cranston's reporting. He had suggested that 453 and 494 had developed something more than a working relationship. From Renfro's point of view, that was unlikely because the lovely and effective virus cooked up in one of her labs was no longer keeping 452 and Eyes Only apart.
"No reason," White said, keeping is voice flat rather than give away any information he wasn't ready to part with yet. "I just thought he was dead."
"Unfortunately not," she sighed. "For a bonus, I would like you to kill him if you can. Ship his head here in a box, would you?"
"If the opportunity presents itself," White said with a yawn as he looked down the street to the quiet house. "Cale is back in Seattle. He's untouchable for the moment. The guy so much as gets a cold and the government is going to lock down this city. I'm going to watch and wait. I'm certain 452 will make contact."
In fact, he knew she had. He had used a parabolic microphone and listened to Cale on the phone with her. It was an awkward conversation in which he was beseeching her to return and begging her to forgive him. What he had done wasn't apparent, but there was something weak in his voice. She didn't bend as easily. The lover's quarrel was apparently ongoing as she had not appeared at the house since Ame's located Cale staying there two days earlier. That's when he set about seeing which of the other mutants might be prowling the streets still.
He knew the dogman was still in Northern California at the compound that White escaped from a few months earlier. He'd heard his deep yet child like voice, calling Sandeman father. White wanted to vomit at hearing that. His skin crawled and heated bursts of anger raced through his blood. Father. No. They were not related. The seven foot tall bow-wow boy was not family. He made sure to tell him that when he incapacitated him during his escape. He hoped the bones took a long time to heal.
White smirked at that. He was actually thinking about it—in between considering kicking a stray dog he saw in an alley in the market district—when he by chance caught sight of someone who looked uncannily like X5-494. He followed him for a while, listened to him talk, and (despite the negative reading on his heat sensor when pointed at the man) determined it was the wayward transgenic.
"Keep me apprised," Renfro said. "I'm not a patient woman. You find 452 and you bring her to me—alive. I don't care who or what you have to do in the process. Oh, and when you do, I may have some information for you."
"Such as?" he asked, surprised. Renfro never provided him with anything other than orders and disdain.
"There's been some progress on your son's location," she said. "Get me 452, and I think I can make you very happy."
White didn't bother asking for more details. He simply disconnected. He doubted Renfro knew more than he did. He was using her, not the other way around. She provided funds and resources when he needed them. Whether she was actually looking for his son was a matter of debate. White didn't care. He knew two people knew the answer: Cale and 452. Cale was off-limits because of his friends in high places. That left the abomination from his father's lab: X5-452. He was going to carve the answer out of her as soon as he got his hands on her.
White smiled at the thought.
# # # #
The day broke over the horizon, hazy, hot and humid. The city was like a terrarium. The world was nearly misty with the dense air pushing down on everything and trapping sounds, smells and heat. Max huffed tiredly as she climbed to the seventh floor of the building she used to call home. That was one part of pregnancy she was not used to: the trouble she was having with her balance. It seemed like every day she needed to find a new calibration as she expanded overnight. It was tiring in a way she was not used to and forced her to move at a pace she considered slow; although, when she bothered notice those around her on the street, she noted they were all going at the same pace. Still, on days like this in which the air was thick like butter, everything seemed harder and slower.
She reached the door to the apartment and wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead before she knocked then opened the door uninvited.
"Cin?" Max said as she stepped into the apartment.
"Hey, Boo, get in here," OC called over her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen, pulling her hair up. "Long time, girl. I've got coffee. You interested?"
"Uh, no," Max said and scowled.
The truth was, yes, she was interested. However, Carr's instructions were to avoid the beverage. Max looked down at her belly and wrinkled her nose hoping someday the child appreciated the sacrifices she was making. Shaking her head and pushing the resignation out of her mind, she walked/waddled into the kitchen.
"It's been too long, girl," OC asked brightly as Max entered the room. "How you…?" Her question hung on the air as she stared back at her friend. "Holy bejesus on a cracker, Max!"
She looked at Max and her eyes bugged out of her head. The change in her friend's silhouette was obvious as was the root of those changes. OC gaped for a few minutes while Max simply looked back at her and shrugged.
"You in disguise or is that what it looks like?" OC asked pointing at her.
"Surprise," Max shrugged. "I… uh.. I've got some news."
"Damn straight you do," OC said as she continued to stare. "When did you get on the nest?"
"Uh, a while ago," Max answered.
"Apparently," OC nodded. "This is a good thing?"
"Well, I decided to go through with it," Max replied. "Whether it's good is another story."
OC rolled her eyes and threw her arms warmly around her friend, hugging and petting her hair without saying anything. The embrace said all Max needed to hear: If you're, happy so am I; I'm here for you. Max blinked back a threat of tears then took a seat as OC gestured to the couch.
"Well, if it's what you want then I'm glad for you," OC said genuinely. "Shocked but glad. You look tired."
"Growing one of these things takes a lot of you," Max said panting from her exertions.
"How long you got to go?" OC asked. "This oven looks fully heated and ready finish cooking."
"Nearly," Max nodded. "About seven weeks."
"Where you been keeping yourself?" OC asked. "Haven't heard a word about…. I'm sorry. I… I forgot about… Everything. I just…"
OC shook her head. She had been gone for a while, dealing with her own family drama, and the memories of what happened the night she ended up in the hospital had faded. One remaining question, the one that had given her nightmares until the loss of her aunt made reality hurt more than her unrelenting 'what ifs' about the night she and her chariot got jumped, came to her mind again.
"It's okay," Max assured her. "A few of us made it. Joshua, although I haven't seen him, made it out. Those that made it are on the run, I guess. No news is good news at this point."
"Max, what happened to Alec?" OC asked solemnly. Her face grew worried and her eyes misty.
"Long story," Max said with a pained sigh. "He's… okay, I guess. He's back here in Seattle. Somewhere. He says he's fine. He's lying when he says it, but he's a pretty good actor so I don't think it's obvious to anyone who doesn't know him like I do."
OC relaxed. She hadn't always been exactly fair or kind to Alec. She certainly didn't always like him, but he was like a blister in just the right spot on your hand. It bothered and annoyed you. It got in the way. It caused pain—hell, it was created by pain and friction—but you got used to it. It became a touchstone, a worry spot, something you turned to in some moments to put pressure on because you'd grown accustomed to it. After a while, it changed, without you noticing it, into a smooth spot or a callous, one that just seemed to belong there. Hearing he was back and sufficiently okay to fool anyone but Max was a relief.
"Good," OC sighed. "That boy is a pain, but there are worse kind of aches. Speaking of aches, you twisted up inside. You look… extra worried, even for you. That just you being baby-farm tired, or is something else wrong? You know, even a super hero mom needs to put her feet up sometimes, right?"
She kicked her feet onto the rickety coffee table and gestured for Max to do the same. Arranging herself more comfortably on the couch, Max did so, taking the pressure off her swollen ankles and sore back. She unconsciously rubbed her bulging belly and sighed.
"I'm okay, I guess," Max said. "I don't really have anything to do with myself right now other than sleep, eat and… grow."
"Damn girl, you a house already," OC observed. "I mean that in a complimentary way, of course."
Max chuckled along with OC and took the remark well. She had never considered herself vain. She was blessed with the hand-picked genes Manticore wanted for an X5, and they did not build that model to be ugly. She had been used to being considered attractive her whole life. She didn't rely on it; she didn't flaunt it. She just was. However, now, with her curves distended and the rest of her puffy and swollen proportionately, she was feeling self-conscious. She could feel people staring at her during the rare moments she was in public. She was certain she pulled a lot of gazes previously, but now she could feel them, and it felt awkward.
Logan had looked at her with a bright and joyful expression, at least at first. His tired eyes were surprised and excited. That, too, felt uncomfortable (although, she was certain some of that was because she had to break a less happy bit of news to him immediately after his radiating smile nearly blinded her). The cold and spiteful words that followed the rest of her announcement stung her still. She wasn't sure if it was the icy and judgmental look in his eyes or the viciousness of his words that hurt more. Of course, Logan's tone had done an about-face within 48 hours of learning of their group predicament. He had left her a dozen messages; she returned one simply to have him stop calling. She wasn't ready to speak to him yet, but she told him she would in time.
In comparison, she understood and expected Alec's reaction more—at least the first part of it. He was surprised, but his was more of a shocked expression—like he had been sucker punched and was expected to quickly block another blow or retaliate. That was when her confusion began. She first thought it was due to him looking for a way to shirk responsibility. She realized it was much the opposite when she acknowledged the possibility that Logan might not be the father. Then, his expression changed. There were two conflicting emotions playing out in his green eyes: hope and territoriality. She saw the hint of something primal in his eyes. The hurt and lost expression he displayed at first was quickly replaced by a protective and shielding stance, but not one for himself. Rather, it was for her.
"Boo?" OC asked, touching her arm slightly as she noticed her sliding from the discussion.
"Huh?" Max shook her head, dragging herself back to the discussion. "Sorry. Uh, yeah, things started getting crazy big recently. I was keeping it under wraps but then everything started busting at the seams." She yawned. "Sorry. It takes a lot out of me just getting through the day lately."
Original Cindy clucked her tongue in disappointment. She cocked her head to the side and affected an affronted tone.
"You mean to tell me that you this far along and your man's not doing his share of step-n-fetch to wait on you?" she asked. "What's wrong with him? Logan ain't as rich as he used to be, but he ain't poor neither. It's not like he works full time himself. Ain't seen an Eyes Only broadcast in forever."
"Well, I'm not exactly with Logan right now," Max said. "It's sort of complicated."
"Uh huh," OC replied and fixed her with a firm stare. "Something you want to tell OC?"
"Probably not," Max buried her face in her hands for a moment.
"Where is Logan?" she asked.
"Here in Seattle," she said. "He just got back from the east coast. He helped us, the ones who survived the attack on Terminal City, a lot. The military is more concerned about the breeding cult now, but Logan, uh, came home to some unexpected news. So, now I kind of need a place to stay for a bit, and I was wondering…"
OC didn't let her finish. She threw her arms wide nodding.
"Me and Su equals a casa, Boo," she nodded invitingly. "I'm flying solo here. Be good having you back. Just tell me this: Why you running from Logan? He's not happy that he's going to be a daddy? Or is he too busy saving everyone else's family that he don't have time for one of his own?"
Max shook her head solemnly and felt her tears of frustration and shame percolate beneath her lids. She placed her head in her hand for a moment.
"No," she said. "It's my fault. I screwed up."
OC laughed dryly and swatted Max playfully on the arm.
"No kidding," OC said. "They're called condoms, girl. Your little appendage-bearing plaything is supposed to wrap his most prized possession in one before he's in you. It prevents the need for all this wardrobe adjustment you going through."
"I know, that," Max sighed.
"Well, apparently, you forgot it because you and Logan must have got too wrapped up on the moment to remember to wrap up his member," OC noted bluntly. "Don't feel bad, girl. You ain't the first. Hell, that's how I came to be in the first place."
Max smiled wanly. She had never met OC's family, but from the way she spoke of them, she doubted they looked at her as a mistake or an accident. Then again, with her tough, I will kick your ass attitude, they were probably a little afraid of her as well.
"That's not the problem," Max admitted.
"Then what is?" OC asked.
"I'm not sure who the father actually is," Max replied and stood up agitatedly as she began to pace slowly.
She was agitated and tired of being trapped in a body that did not feel like her own. She had lived on her own for so long that sharing was not something she did well or often. Giving up her actual body felt a form of torture or imprisonment some days.
"Wha'chu mean?" OC asked. "Logan going through some mental crisis and questioning his true identity and purpose in life? What do they call it, mid-life psychosis or is he having some sympathetic hysterical man pregnancy?"
"No, I mean, I'm not sure if Logan is the biological father," Max swallowed.
"That's very funny," OC laughed. "Yeah, you a trashy party girl, Max. Waited nearly three years to do the dance with yo man but he maybe ain't the father? Ha!"
Max looked back at her with a solemn face and nodded slowly as a confession. OC blanched and stared for a moment.
"You straight up with me?" OC squawked. Max nodded. "Logan might not be the…? Well, who else did…"
OC stopped, the question in her mind drawing her to an answer that was both unbelievable and likely at the same time. OC could not forget first the sorrow in Max's face when she feared the downing of a ship had taken his life, and next, Sketchy's fantastic tale of a mermaid or sharkman breathing hope into her suffocating sorrow.
"No!" OC gasped. "Did you finally get down and dirty with Alec after all this time?"
"It was one night," Max said shaking her head and standing up, feeling the need to pace. "It just happened. It was… a mistake… I guess."
"You guess?" OC repeated. "Was it or wasn't it? You sit your pregnant ass back down right now, and tell me exactly what happened between you and Mr. Cheekbones, but leave out the sloppy bits because OC don't need those visuals running wild in her mind."
Reluctantly, Max gave her the highlights—things she had not disclosed to her friend previously—about how things had subtly changed between she and Alec over the last year and how that culminated with their stay at Crystal Mountain. OC listened. Her mouth hung open at first and she blinked a lot as the surprise washed over her. As Max continued, her expression softened and she found herself nodding and rubbing her friend's back consolingly. When Max finished, she sounded spent and looked that way as well when she buried her face in her hands and sighed.
"One question," OC asked. "You really not care who the father is or is there something else you're not telling me?"
Max looked back at her with sad and revealing eyes.
# # # #
Max felt drained after her confession session with OC. Her friend had gone to work, her mind heavy with information and details, that made her feel like her life, as messy and difficult as it could be some days, was still a sight better than others. She bid Max to have a good day and told her to lay low. OC would be bringing home dinner that night and they would continue their discussion after Max had a chance to settle.
It felt good being back in the apartment. It settled her mind and made her think of easier times, back when the greatest question on the horizon was whether or she would be able to heat enough water to fill the bathtub. Thinking of that, she peered into the bathroom and was gratified to see the claw foot tub still in place. She spent an hour and a half boiling water, knowing that by the time the tub was filled, the whole volume would only be warm, but still knowing it would be worth it. Max ditched her clothing in a heap on the floor and sank into the soothing depths up to her earlobes, noting with some interest that her new body mass displaced a sufficient amount of water that she actually had to stretch her neck a bit to keep her nose above the surface.
She rested in the warm waters, letting the tension of countless weeks and heart-wrenching worries release and try to float away. She rubbed the bulge in her middle and felt sorry for the creature in there and the hornet's nest of a world she would know when she finally greeted the sunshine. It was in the quiet moments that Max was most able to think about her child as a person rather than an obstacle or an issue. She feared for her—in her mind, she simply knew the child was a girl—and wished she could provide a better life for her. She thought she still might be able to do that once the child was born and Max knew whether she was cursed with an ugly birthmark on her neck. If the child was free and clear, Max knew the responsible thing would be to put her up for adoption.
Of course, that didn't seem possible now. Two men were eager to claim her and that would make giving her away impossible. Not that Max wanted to give the child away. She wanted to be with her, to raise her, to give her everything she never had: A home, a family, love, peace of mind and a chance at a real future.
But the idea that life with Max as her mother was going to make that impossible simply did not go away. If the child could blend in with an ordinary human family, Max knew, she stood a better chance.
It was a decision and a question she toyed with every night when she drifted off to sleep and each morning when she woke, feeling the little nudges and kicks from her offspring. It was an immense weight on her mind and twisted her insides into knots.
No answers magically floated to the surface as she steeped in the calm waters. So, when the temperature of the air matched that of the water, Max hauled her body out of the tub and wrapped herself in towels (she curled her lip as she noted she needed two to get the job done). Then exited toward the kitchen, but jumped in surprise when she learned she was not alone in the apartment any longer.
"A few more minutes and I thought I might have to dive in an save you," Alec said from his spot perching sitting on the sill of the open window.
Max settled her hand over her heart and took a deep breath as she scowled at the open window near the fire escape where the former cat burglar had apparently entered.
"Found me?" she said not sounding surprised.
"I have my sources," he shrugged.
"You've got your buddy Deck following me?" she glared.
"Calm down," he said easily, sauntering toward her with his loose limbed stride. "I talked to Normal. He told me Original Cindy was back. I did the math and…well," he shrugged. "Hi there. How have you been?"
"It's only been 48 hours since I saw you, Alec," she scoffed.
"I missed you, too," he offered, twisting his lips into a taunting grin. Max bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from returning the expression. "So you talk to Logan since you left his place?"
"Stop," she ordered. "I'm not going to get in the middle of a pissing match between the two of you."
"You don't think it's a little late for that now?" Alec wondered, but Max ignored him.
"You two start your chest thumbing and next thing I know, one of you is lifting your leg to pee on me like you're marking territory," she scowled.
"Should my non-human DNA be offended by that?" Alec quipped.
Max smirked reluctantly but gave him a hard stare to let him know she was going to resist his attempts at charm. Alec shrugged and continued to walk around the apartment, a pacing, cagey aspect to his movements.
"I was just curious if he had actually proposed to you or not," Alec said. He looked at her surprise. "Yeah, I heard that from the porch and saw the ring on the desk when he was in your face."
Max looked at him and wondered if it was the angry decibels in Logan's voice or the mention of a proposal that brought Alec into the house to stand between she and Logan two days earlier. She wasn't sure why that question occurred to her or why it mattered, but she wondered it all the same.
"You know," Alec continued, "you'd think a guy who truly loved you and pined for so long wouldn't waste another second once there was nothing in the way anymore."
"Nothing in the way?" she gaped and waved her hand toward her now-bulging mid-riff. "Hello. And whether I've spoken to him since or if he's asked is none of your business."
"The guy who wants to be the stepfather to my kid is my business," Alec asserted.
"You have no say in who I marry or don't, and you don't know that you're anyone's father," she growled. "I am the only parent that matters in my baby's life right now. Got that?"
"Reading you loud and clear," he replied playfully. "Not buying it or agreeing, but I hear you, Maxie. Is this one of those mood swings I've heard about? See, with you, it could just be you.. being you. I'm just trying to learn, that's all."
Max scoffed at his pronouncement then was unable to stop herself from laugh as he fixed her with a smug, undaunted, unapologetic, and (mildly) superior expression.
"He didn't propose," she said calmly. "I haven't spoken with Logan since I left. He's left messages with OC, but I'm avoiding him the way I was avoiding you."
"I'm more determined," Alec offered. "You might want to keep that in mind. It's a good character trait."
"Sounds a little like you're lifting your leg," Max said sourly.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, taking a long and lingering look at her. "You look good, rested even."
She felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny as she stood in the kitchen barely covered in bath towels. She looked chubby and felt decidedly unattractive. It was odd receiving a compliment on her appearance when she felt like a blimp. It seemed odder still to hear one coming out of Alec's mouth. He was the type who prowled the Seattle night scene previously for the hot and willing ladies. Whether they were available did not matter; his charm and looks usually got him whoever he wanted. Max could not think of a reason why he would be choosing her at this stage.
"I'm fine," she said. "Obviously, won't be entering any bikini contests any time soon."
"I don't know," Alec shrugged and leered down at her. "You've got a fair shot at placing in a wet T-shirt contest."
Max instantly drove her knuckles into his ribs, feeling satisfaction as he winced and doubled over.
"Is that anyway to talk to…," she began.
"The mother of my child?" he finished her sentence. "You're right. I'm sorry. I should speak to you with more respect."
"Alec, why do you want this baby to be yours?" she asked suddenly. She had wondered from the start. "You're not exactly the family type."
"Just because I haven't been doesn't mean I don't want to be or can't be," he shrugged. It didn't make a lot of sense to him either, but he trusted his instincts usually (even when they were not as sharp as they once were) and his gut was telling him this was right. "Look, I never had a family, Max. Never really knew what one was. My unit, we weren't close like you were with Zack and the others, but that doesn't mean I can't learn."
"But why now?" she asked.
He simply shrugged and gazed back at her with a plain and unassuming expression.
"Because I'm in love with you," he answered as if the answer should have been obvious. "I told you that already."
"I know what you said, but you're really not," she asserted. "Alec, this isn't just some contest for you to win. It's not a game of pool or a fight. A family is a lifelong commitment. It isn't what you play with until the next hot chick or big score comes along and steals your interest. It means sacrificing other things you want for the good of the ones you love."
"I know," he said nodding quickly. "You want me to give up something, say the word, and it's done. Max, whatever you want from me, whatever you need, I'll do."
His expression was sincere enough that she supposed even he believe his words, but she didn't. She couldn't. She sighed and placed her hand on his arm. He did not understand. His limited experience with actual, long-term relationships was stunting his ability to fully grasp what he was offering. Max looked sorrowfully at him and pitied him for a moment. Alec regarded her with a simple expression that said he truly believed it was as easy as speaking mere words. She shook her head.
"Alec, the chances are strong that you are not the father," she explained.
"I think you're wrong, but so what if you're right?" he shrugged. "What does that matter?"
Max blinked several times and shook her head in confusion.
"What do you mean?" she looked back at him in surprise. "How can it not matter to you?"
"I love you, Max," he said. "I don't know for certain who is the father, but I do know who the mother is, and she's the one I love. I want to be with you and being with you means this baby is part of the deal so, okay with me."
"You're saying you wouldn't have a problem with me having Logan's baby," she said.
"It's not the kid's fault who his father is any more than I'm to blame for who and what my parents were," Alec shrugged. "Would I prefer if the baby was mine, yeah, but that's just because the kid would be better off with my genes. But if I'm not the father, does it change anything for me where you or your baby are concerned? No. Why would it?"
He spoke as if he was explaining something obvious to a dull witted person: Yes, the sun is in the sky all the time; it doesn't live in an apartment in sector three.
Max gaped back at him with surprise and an overwhelming feeling. Whether it was pleasure, shock, arousal or something else entirely, she did not know. Alec looked at her confusion and shrugged again.
"Look, I'm telling you that I'm here with you for the long haul," he said. "You and me and your little person there makes three, right?"
Max hung her head and sighed heavily. She shook her head and looked at him wearily. She told him that she didn't need his help and would not be asking for it. This was her life and her duty. She would be taking care of whatever needed taking care of on her own.
"Well, you can't do this on your own," Alec said. Then shrugged and wavered. "I mean, you can. You're stubborn enough and generally bad tempered enough to try it just to spite me… or anyone else, but really, is it smart?"
"Is it smart for you to basically call me a bitch and think I'll enjoy your company?" she asked sternly but the playful glint in her eyes said she wasn't precisely mad.
"I'm deceptively clever," he nodded. "So, if you've got this figured out, tell me: What's your plan?"
"Plan?" she repeated with a shrug.
"Yeah, plan," Alec echoed. "Planning. Strategy. These things are important for any mission, Max. Tell me: Why are you going to do this all by yourself with no help when you've got people offering to be there with you, for you, whatever? I figure, if you're gonna shut me out, then you must have a better option. Since this is my family too," he said but hesitated as she glared and shook her head, "possibly, then I am simply asking for some basic details. Where are you going to live? How are you going to, I don't know, get money to feed yourselves? You have the little unimportant things like that figured out yet?"
Max swallowed hard and stared back at him. She didn't have those answers. The questions kept her up at night. The worry made her ache and fear she had made the wrong choice in going through with the pregnancy. She shook her head and felt her eyes betray her as tears again boiled to the surface. She wiped them back quickly and held her chin up trying to show a brave face, but her throat was tight and she didn't bother trying to sound brave when she answered.
"I don't know," she said in a thin, shaking voice. "Not really a good time for this, is it? Besides, what the hell do I know about raising a kid?"
"Uh, you know not to send him to military school at age one minute, for a start," Alec shrugged and grinned. Max scowled at him. "Come on, loosen up, Max. I think we both agree that pretty much everything after you get that right is a cakewalk. Seriously, we were both raised in a place that should never have been for kids and look how we turned out."
She glared at him flatly then stalked away to the bathroom. She hastily pulled on her clothing again as he continued to explain.
"Okay, maybe not the most inspiring or confidence building examples," he relented and pressed a button on his watch as it beeped suddenly.
She exited to find him waiting just outside the door.
"What's with you anyway?" she asked, taking note again of the strange watch he fiddled with but not remarking on it. "Since when are you interested in being a parent? Do you even like kids?"
"No, in general, I don't think so—not really," he shrugged. "Except for some reason this one seems different. Maybe it's just a chemical thing."
"I'm the one whose pregnant, not you," she said. "So how is this a chemical thing for you? Or is this part of that mechanical hicky you pretend you don't have?"
She looked accusingly at the bruised injection site at his neck. Alec tugged up the collar to his pull over and pointedly ignored the last question then adjusted his watch and continued his argument.
"I think it's protective instincts in my DNA," he shrugged. "We're a little wild, a little more primal, aren't we? It's like Animal Kingdom: The male protects his pack. Well, you're my pack."
"We have feline DNA," she corrected him breezing past him into the kitchen again. "That makes it a pride, not a pack."
"Whatever," he shrugged. "That's my offspring. So, naturally..."
"That's insane—kind of like you," she said. "There's no evidence that any X5 male feels protective of…. And, again, who says you're the father?"
"Okay, so maybe I'm not," he replied with a simple shrug. "Maybe protecting you is just something I want to do rather than I have to do. As for your claim that there's no evidence, that actually works in my favor, I think."
"Lack of evidence supports your case?" she repeated, turning to face him with raised eyebrows. "How can you possibly have a genius IQ and think things like that?"
"I'm pretty creative, aren't I?" Alec grinned and nodded. "Think about it, Max. This thing between you and me, it's never happened before with X5's. It makes us… special."
"No," she countered him sourly. "This thing, I mean, you and I… sleeping together…"
"I don't recall all that much sleeping," Alec grinned and brushed her hair off her shoulder.
Max shivered slightly and felt her face grow hot. There was a spastic fluttering in her diaphragm at did not come from her womb, although the child seemed to notice the rush and reacted accordingly. Max stepped back from him, folding her arms as tightly as she could without squeezing herself to the point of needing to rush to the bathroom.
"I mean that we did have several breeding partner results in TC," she remarked. "There was plenty of X5 action going on and none of them exhibited any 'protect the pride' instincts. So much for your theory."
"Exactly," he said snatching her words like they were agreement.
She stared back at him, shaking her head at the insanity. How Alec's head worked was always something of a mystery to her. Some of the time, he was breathtakingly clever, seeing a pattern or sussing out a hidden detail. Other times, he was spacey and moronic and made her wonder how he got dressed in the morning without help or how he crossed the street without being hit by a car. He watched the disbelief bloom in her eyes then shook his head as he explained further.
"Breeding partners, Max," Alec said solemnly. "Those were all assigned reproduction."
She stared back at him, remembering how she met him, her assigned breeding partner. She wanted to kill him, to beat him into a pulpy pile of goo the moment he introduced himself and stated his purpose in her cell. Now, he stood before her, sporting an expectant and confident grin, and she felt much the same way but for very different reasons.
"Look, they were ordered or in some cases forced to have sex in order to create new specimens," Alec continued. "None of them hooked up out of interest or choice. Their kids were conceived out of obligation. How many of the X5 women who showed up with babies or gave birth at Terminal City were still with their breeding partners?"
Max shrugged. To the best of her knowledge, the answer was none. Alec nodded.
"Any of those partners ever show up in the compound looking for their kids?" he asked.
Max shook her head. She didn't think so, but it wasn't a question she'd ever asked before.
"Doesn't exactly speak highly of the paternal instincts of the X5's does it?" she remarked with an acidic tone.
"No, it doesn't," he agreed with a grin. "Which actually makes me even more special."
"Special?" Max scoffed. "Yeah, but not in the way you think is flattering."
"I mean it, Max," Alec insisted. "I wasn't assigned to do this to you. I mean, okay, technically I was when we met, but that was way back. This is different. I offered. You agreed. So, you see what this means."
"That you're still overly convinced in your virility?" she rolled her eyes.
"It means," he said cutting her off and grasping her hand and held it, massaging it lightly as he did so, "that you're my… my mate."
"What did you say?" she asked, slowly tugging her hand back.
"I said you're my mate," he replied.
"We're human… mostly, not animals or lab rats," she snapped.
Alec flicked a quick glance at the watch on his wrist as it made quiet beeping noises that sounded like a heart monitor.
"You want to quibble about a word, fine, but that doesn't change the meaning or the truth," he said. "I choose you, Max. Don't give me that look. You chose me back."
"You're crazy," she rolled her eyes. "Alec, you of all people, know what a one-night stand is."
"I do," he replied assertively shaking his head. "That's not what we had. There's more going on between us than just a one-time fling."
Max shook her head and reminded him that it was just one night. She was beginning to wonder and worry about his memory since his injuries and alleged recovery.
"Yeah, I know we've only had one night together so far," he said, stepping close to her and placing his hand on her protruding belly. His mind was a blur of images from the afternoons spent harassing her in her office, to the nights he spent staring longingly at the ceiling in his room at TC thinking about her, to the moment he woke up with his arms tangled around her at the mountain resort. "That night is not the end of us. There's more to us than just that, Max. Don't get me wrong, that part of us is good, really good, but we both know there's more going on between us than just that."
She scoffed and fought the irresistible urge to smirk at his insane proclamation. She couldn't tell if he was joking with her or serious. It was sometimes difficult to determine with Alec. His insane ideas usually sounded like jokes up to a point, and it was only once the conversation was over and she could analyze it that she could be sure. Her mind wandered back to the late night discussions with him telling her about his various missions for Manticore; his probing questions about her life after she ran away. She didn't normally disclose that information to anyone—not that anyone ever asked—but for some reason, she could tell Alec. There was something in his expression that said he was just curious; she knew he wasn't going to try to make her feel better or fix her. He didn't have the interest or the inclination to do so. In his mind, she was like him. She was a survivor and difficult and sad past wasn't something to worry about or be ashamed of. Those discussions were easy in that respect and it was those moments that she missed the most when he was missing.
Confusion washed into her mind as she sighed. She shook her head and did her best to keep her face passive but she did note that her instinct was also not to push him away. He sensed this and pulled her a little closer.
"Max, you can say you doubt me all you want, but I do love you," he said in a serious tone. "You can say I don't know what I'm talking about, but you're wrong. I love you. I also want to believe that you are carrying our child, but even if you weren't, I'd still feel this way. I'm pretty sure that's what love is."
Max wasn't sure how to respond. The sincerity in his eyes scared her because she knew he was not joking. He also was not going to be swayed by any logical argument she threw at him, and he was not going to go away no matter what she said.
"You of all people know life isn't all puppies and rainbows, Alec," she replied, finding her voice. "A lot has happened. Right after we… We had a fling, a stress-induced, unplanned fling, and we didn't get a chance to put it into any perspective because all hell broke loose just after it happened. I think you've made it into more than it needs to be because of all of that."
Without bothering to seek permission or give her any warning, he pulled her very close and pressed his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply and passionately, pouring into the lip embrace everything he felt at Crystal Mountain, everything he had yearned for once they were back, and everything he held onto while he was in Renfro's clutches and at the medical compound being put back together by the mad scientist who knew more about how an X5 ticked than any X5 knew about themselves. He held her firmly against his body, feeling the child in her womb squirm slightly as its mother's pulse and breathing changed as she surrendered to the kiss and wrapped her arms around him, trembling with fear and surprise.
When they parted, Max rested her head briefly on his chest and felt her chest cinch in a knot of confusion. She longed for physical contact—some of that was simply an emotional reaction to feeling so awkward in her own body; some of it was chemical due to the hormone shifts—and ached as he released her. Still, she didn't want him to read more into the kiss than he should. She didn't know what it meant and she didn't want Alec thinking it proved his assertions correct. Her thoughts strayed to Logan and she wondered how she would have reacted if he had taken such a forward action with her.
"You know, this doesn't have to stop here," Alec offered with a sly grin on his lips and in his eyes.
Max blinked then glared at him. Their moment, whatever it was, had been tender and affectionate. His suggestion to escalate it to something more tawdry (while not exactly surprising) turned her mood quickly sour.
"What?" Max gaped.
"Ah, that's not a no," Alec grinned. "So, if you've got some free time now or…"
"You're unbelievable," she seethed. "You're asking me to… Do you see the shape my body is in? You think that is on my mind right now? How can you ask me to go have a nooner?"
"I told you, I'm here for you for… whatever," he said continuing to grin. "I'm just letting you know that, whatever you need, a punching bag, a errand boy, someone to… assuage any urges you have whatsoever, I am offering myself and my services to you."
"The urge to bust a few of your ribs is pretty strong right now," she said.
"Ah, more mood swings," he chided. "I've heard they can be brutal during pregnancy. Know what always puts me in a better mood: sex."
He quickly doubled over as she thrust her fist into his ribs. It was not hard a punches go, but she did hit the sweet spot that raised tears in his eyes as it snatched away his breath. He coughed and laughed his way through the sudden stab of pain then smiled as it subsided.
"Glad I could help," he said hoarsely as he rubbed the sore spot. "We'll call it a rain check on the offer then, huh?"
Max huffed indignantly as she stomped away into her bedroom closing the door firmly. A reflexive smile flashed quickly across her face. Whether it was due to the joy she felt shutting him up for a moment or the thought of taking him up on one or more of his offers, she didn't know. She was just glad Alec did not see it.
"So, you're saying maybe we should talk about this a little more," Alec offered.
"No," she said yell through the door. "Not here. Not now."
"Fine, where and when?"
"I don't know and later," she shouted.
"I won't be here later," Alec replied, glancing again at his timepiece. "Max, I have to go… somewhere. For just a little while."
She opened the door quickly, reminded again of the strange watch he wore.
"How long?" she asked and heard the worry and whine in her voice. She cleared her throat. "I mean, what are you going to do? I can't pull your sorry ass out of any trouble right now, Alec."
Alec merely smiled at her then leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
"I'll see you when I get back," he said simply then headed out the door.
"Alec," she called, "where are you going?"
"I'll call you," he said and winked as he left.
# # # #
Logan tapped his hand rapidly on his thigh as he waited at the door. A week of calling, leaving messages and finally begging had paid off. Max had finally returned his call. Several moments of abject groveling followed by a promise to keep the discussion casual and peaceful earned him what he desired: A chance to apologize to her in person.
He held his breath, going over his plan in his head again, before knocking. He felt odd yet encouraged standing in front of this door. This is where Max lived when they first met, before things between them went off the rails. It felt like a sign, a signal, that they could perhaps start over. Sure, things were different now. So much had happened and a lot more was about to happen, but he was ready to face all that now. He just needed to show her that he could, once again, put his best foot forward and be a better man than he behaved when he returned from the east coast.
With a deep exhale and a quick internal pep talk, he knocked on the door. He swallowed hard as it was promptly opened by Max, who sported a flat expression which made him wonder if she had been staring at him through the spy hole the entire time he stood outside psyching himself up to announcing his arrival.
"Hi!" he said then grimaced as even he heard the overzealousness in his voice. "I mean, hi."
Max smirked then stepped aside, ushering him into the apartment. OC was gone, strategically down the hall with a neighbor. Max had not asked her to leave or to stay close, but her friend sensed away but near was still a good place to be. OC didn't have any fears about this visit; she just wanted Max to know that she was available if needed.
"So," Logan said with a shrug.
"So," she repeated, folding her arms trying not to feel awkward or petulant.
"This is awkward, huh?" Logan remarked, looking down at his shoes.
"Less so than the last time I saw you," she remarked.
"Right, about that," Logan shook his head and offered her his most sincere expression. "I was wrong. I was… an ass. I was out of line. I… I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry, Max."
She nodded. He had said as much in countless messages over the last week. She believed he meant the words. She was no longer fuming angry at him and she was willing accept that she did deserve a certain amount of ire from him, but she wasn't sure what else she did or should feel.
"It's in the past," she said simply. "So… what else did you want to say?"
Logan nodded. She was still prickly. He expected that. He had, in a moment of delirious optimism, put the ring box back in his pocket before leaving his house. He now stuffed his hands to push it down further as he knew he would not be needing it—at least, not today.
"I guess, that was it," he shrugged. "I did want to see you. See how you're doing."
She shrugged in return and walked past him to the living room. She flipped her hand toward a chair opposite the one she took, directing him to sit there. Again, he held back any sigh of disappointment that she placed distance between them, but he was willing to spend his time in the dog house.
"So, how are you?" he asked after a moment of silence.
"Large'ish," she nodded as she rubbed her side. "Fat, mostly."
"I know," he nodded and smiled genuinely. "Wow. I mean, you're… That is… You look…good. Healthy. Not as tired as you did last week, and you don't look fat."
"It's fine," Max answered with a smirk. "She and I aren't concerned about image right now."
"She?" Logan asked, a whirling and swooping sensation filling his stomach. "The baby? It's a girl?"
"I think so," Max nodded. "I didn't have Sam confirm that. I just… I feel like it's a girl. We, uh, we spend a lot of time together so I'm pretty sure on this."
"A girl would be nice," Logan said.
Max shrugged and gazed back at him still uncertain about the discussion. What was still under her skin was Logan's claimed worry about she and Alec and accusation she had been carrying on with him more than just the one time at the resort. She did not begrudge him his anger of the fact she had cheated on him. She knew he had a right to claim betrayal, but if he had concerns and worries long before anything happened between she and Alec, he kept that a secret. To Max, that felt like a bit of betrayal, too. Yes, she had lied to him once and stated she was in a relationship with Alec, but she had done that for Logan's sake and it was a lie. There was nothing between she and Alec then, except an odd quasi-friendship. What was between the two of them now was a mystery, but Logan was wrong if he thought she had been unfaithful prior to their trip to the mountains. That lack of trust hurt.
They looked at each other and then the floor and the windows and back again several times before Logan spoke again.
"This is awkward," Logan admitted with a shrug.
"Try not being able to see your feet when you stand up," she offered. "That's awkward."
He smiled back and shrugged. There was contrition on his face and guilt tugged at his slouching shoulders as he dug his hands into his pockets.
"I think you know what I mean," he said. "Max, I said some things I shouldn't have. I was surprised and upset, and those are just excuses. I know. I just want you to know that… Max, I do love you. I'm sorry I didn't handle this better."
Max nodded. She expected this from him. He wasn't a cruel or cold many by nature. He was a calculating one. One who cared a lot about big issues and large questions. He spent his time ferreting out truth. It didn't surprise her that he felt he was a victim of a conspiracy when she revealed the whole story to him.
"I know," she replied. "This isn't a good situation no matter how you look at it. I didn't handle it well either."
"What happens now?" he asked sullenly.
"I'm hoping that dinner happens soon," she shrugged. "I don't know if we're going to end up fighting or just talking, but I do know that if I don't eat soon, I'll probably start chewing on the arm of your couch."
Logan offered to hit the kitchen. He could hear something boiling on the stove. A quick check revealed a pot of water and a box of pasta beside it. Receiving Max's permission he put his culinary skills to work opening the jar of canned sauce and boiling the spaghetti. It was a far cry from the gourmet meals he once tried to make for her, but (again) it was time to reboot the system and start small. If a simple meal of boxed pasta and generic tomato sauce helped do the trick, he would serve it to her for their anniversary every year. He smiled at that: their anniversary. He felt his optimism wasn't misplaced. Sure, she was still mad at him and there was a lot of uncertainty in their future, but they had a chance at a future still.
He was grinning about that when he went to the refrigerator in search of some sort of beverage to accompany their meal when he sat the small slip of paper held to the door with a phone number. Beneath the number was a single name: Alec.
Logan knew he should have expected this. He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but he also knew the clench in his jaw at reading the guy's name (in Max's handwriting no less) was something he needed to control, and do it quickly. However, his mouth was quicker than his mind in this instance.
"Have you seen Alec much?" he asked.
He heard Max sigh. He was encouraged that it was a sigh rather than a scoff, but still, the sigh wasn't great either. Rethinking the moment, he quickly back peddled.
"I'm just asking if he's still… around," Logan said, turning what he hoped was an impassive face toward her. "I mean, have you… Are you…?"
"Just ask," Max said quickly. "It'll be a lot easier to answer if I know what you want to know."
"Sorry," Logan replied, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm not trying to start anything here. I'm just trying to figure out where I stand and… where I can't stand anymore."
"Honestly," she said, looking at him with a sad and sincere face, "I don't know, and that's basically what I told Alec when he asked me the same thing a few days ago. I don't know what I want or what I need or what I should do. I think it would be wise if both of you stopped expecting me to have that answer right now because if I had to give one at the moment neither of you would like it."
# # # #
It felt like fire creeping under his skin, crawling in the space between his skin and his muscles and turning his blood to lava. He could feel the sweat pouring off his head, soaking his hair like it did the rest of his body, as he lay prone on the cold steal table. His heart raced—he could feel that even without hearing the frantic beeping of the cardiac monitor in the room. His breaths came in uncontrollable gasps as the rest of the IV fluids coursed into his system.
"Is it almost done?" Alec asked, his jaw clenched in agony.
The nurse—he thought of her as a nurse at least but she might have been a torture master or autopsy specialist for all he knew—turned her dark, warm eyes toward him. Her expression was clinical except for her eyes. Those betrayed her. She did not like seeing pain. Her clipped tone could be read as either a defense against those feelings or simply her personality (which was in conflict with her careworn eyes).
"Two hours to go," she said crisply.
"Thought I'd been at this longer already," Alec gasped.
"Nope," she shook her head.
"Can't even lie to me to give me some hope?" he panted. "A little mental placebo might be helpful—give me a hint of an optimism high to get through us."
"No, sorry," she said.
"Just so you know, I'm naming you Buzz Kill Betty," he said through clenched teeth.
"Actually," she said unconcerned as she looked at the monitors and nodded her approval, "my name is Amanda."
"Whatever, Betty," he scowled.
As his chest heaved, he closed his eyes and tried to go to a more soothing place. Some place cooler and softer, but he couldn't think of any. The images of deserts and sleeping in caves tucked into harsh mountainsides filled his mind. He mentally shook out the thoughts and tried to do what he did during Renfro's torture: Think of Max. Remember her in his arms and the feel of her body against his, the curve of her face and the scent of her hair. But he stopped himself from doing that. He feared he might betray her, call out some detail that would put her back on the radar. He was keeping her a secret still.
He might trust the mad scientist behind his treatments with his own welfare (what choice did Alec have?), but he wasn't prepared to give up Max to him—or his muscle. Sure, he trust Don Lydecker when it came to military matters. The man knew how to plan and support his troops. He knew how to train and to teach, but that didn't mean Alec trusted him with information about Max.
Alec had no idea what Lydecker or his employer would do with her if they found her. They were certainly interested in her. They claimed it was for her own good and her welfare was their primary concern. Alec turned is best Manticore trained deceptive face on them and agreed. He promised he would find her and have her accompany him to the compound so they could protect her.
He never intended to make good on that promise. He would keep returning to them only as long as it took to get himself well and make his still dormant genes wake the hell up. His plan, even from the start, had been to go back to Seattle and find Max then take her away to some place safe, some place they could start over and hide from their past. Her pregnancy complicated things somewhat, but it only convinced Alec that he needed to protect her more than ever.
He remembered being treated as a lab rat during his childhood. The poking and the prodding and the tests. He suffered through them all and wasn't sure how he withstood it. The thought of putting a child through that, any child, turned his stomach now. What they might do to Max's child scared him. Whether the child was his or Logan's, the possibilities of what these men might do made Alec feel something he had not experienced since Ames White had an explosive placed at his brainstem: fear. Only this time, the fear was not for himself—not directly. He feared the treatments might not be successful and leave him unable to do what he vowed he would do the moment he had found Max again when he first returned to Seattle: Protect her and her baby.
"You are doing well, son," the doctor said, appearing in Alec's strained vision.
He shook at the man's sudden arrival. He leaned heavily on his cane and peered down at Alec with a mild and confident expression.
"The pain will pass," he said. "Relax. You need to trust me."
"I do," Alec lied smoothly.
Like hell, I do, he thought.
# # # #
A/N: More to come. Thanks for still following along and thanks for the reviews!