Gone
By Inzane
Disclaimer: I intend no infringement on the show Dark Angel.
Summary: How much abuse can a guy take before he snaps? Events in Hello, Goodbye take a different turn. AU from that point.
A/N: Forgive the delay, but as I was writing this chapter, I found myself being attacked by Supernatural plot bunnies. Vicious little suckers. They just wouldn't let up until I worked on a plot outline for a Supernatural fic. I've got the whole thing plotted now, so hopefully they will leave me alone until I finish Gone.
My thanks to those of you who were kind enough to let me know you would hang in there until the very end. I appreciate the trust, especially considering my unrepentantly evil ways.
The end is coming... soon, if extra chapters will quit sneaking in here.
Chapter 21: Love and Hate
Previously
Max opened her eyes, and stared down once more at the box she held in her hands. It had tipped forward, so the bottom of the box was facing up. She was about to toss the box back onto the desk when her fingers convulsively tightened and her eyes widened.
Her focus zoomed in to one corner on the bottom of the box. It was something that Logan had overlooked, but stood out to her like a neon sign. Delicate black lines, thick and thin, hand-drawn on the bottom of the package. Only someone with transgenic eyesight could've seen that it wasn't original to the box. She knew those lines as well as she knew the back of her own hand.
It was a barcode.
Alec's.
The cardboard began to buckle under the pressure of Max's grip. Everything else around her disappeared until all she could see was the lines of Alec's barcode on the bottom of the box.
Max felt as though her brain had exploded, sending her thoughts flying in a thousand directions at once, only to pull back and coalesce into one coherent thought.
Alec was alive.
Relief flowed through her. She hadn't realized just how much she'd feared the opposite had been true until now. Alec was alive, and well enough to hunt down the cure that had eluded Logan for almost two years.
"How long have you had this?" she heard an unsteady voice say, then realized belatedly that it was her own.
Logan's eyes widened at the tone of Max's voice; she sounded so unlike herself. He knew how she felt. This moment had been a long time in coming. When he'd first discovered what was inside the box, he'd been a little overcome himself. "I found it about a half an hour ago. I was just about to call you when you showed up."
"But how long has it been here?" Max said, suddenly impatient as a sense of urgency gripped her. He would've dropped it off himself. I know it. He wouldn't've trusted anyone else to do it. God, Alec was here. He was right here, in Seattle. He could still be here. She jerked her head up to meet Logan's gaze. "When was the last time you drove your car?"
Logan's brows furrowed in thought. "Hmmm… I'm not sure, really. I've been tied up lately working on installing some new equipment on my computer. I kind of lose track of time when I've got computer parts everywhere."
She felt the box slip from her hands and fall to the floor as she advanced on Logan. Before she realized what she was doing, she grabbed his upper arm, which was fortunately protected by the long sleeve of his shirt. "Dammit, this is important!" Max snapped. "Think!"
Only when she saw Logan staring in alarm at the hand gripping his arm did she realize what she had done. Max blanched and let go abruptly. She took a step back from him, then another. She folded her arms across her chest, tucking her hands in to hide the offending appendages.
"Shit. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm kinda hyped right now." Max said hurriedly. Her mind raced, trying to think of an explanation for her sudden outburst. She couldn't tell him the truth. She knew he would have a million questions, and she didn't have time to explain. She had to look for Alec--now, goddammit, now. "We really need to know how this got here. I'm not just gonna trust something like this blindly."
"Sam can…" Logan began, but Max cut him off.
"I know, and that's great, you can work on gettin' those tests set up." She began to pace, fighting the urge to shake the information out of him. Her words came out fast and clipped. "But in the meantime, I wanna try to track down how it got here, and the longer we stand here talkin' the harder it's gonna be. Now I need you to think. We need to pin down when this package showed up. When was the last time you were in your car?"
Logan was puzzled by Max's intensity--she was practically vibrating with it. He'd expected she would be excited by the prospect of finally curing the virus, but this didn't seem like excitement. She seemed almost frantic. For the first time since she'd been infected with the virus, she'd forgotten herself and touched him. It worried him, since Max was always careful to a fault when it came to that sort of thing. Logan wasn't sure what was going on with her, but he figured he'd better come up with answer for her, quick, before she forgot herself again and touched him in a place that wasn't protected by cloth.
He looked down, staring at the floor as he replayed the past couple of days in his mind. "Well, I've been working on the install for two days now. It's sensitive work. The new module I'm adding should make it impossible for even the federal government to track my cable hacks. I can increase my broadcast time and…"
Max made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat that sounded very close to a growl. "Can we get to the point, here? Have you been outside this apartment in the past two days? Go out for takeout? Take a drive to clear your head? Anything?"
Logan paused for a moment as he mentally flipped through events, then shook his head. "No. I've had stuff delivered. I don't like to interrupt when I'm working on sensitive equipment. Lose my focus."
"So when was the last time you went out?" Max asked, and her voice was tightly controlled. Logan could tell she was coming to the end of her patience.
Logan's eyes unfocused again as he went back further in his mind, then snapped back as it hit him. "Two and a half days ago. Around ten in the morning. I picked up a few extra parts I needed to install the new module I'm working on."
"Damn," Max muttered. Too long. It was too long. Alec could've left the package two nights ago and split. Max was already halfway out the door when Logan's voice stopped her.
"Max, wait!"
Max halted and turned, an exasperated "What?" exploding from her lips.
I have to go. I have to look for him. Maybe it's not too late.
"Where are you going?" Logan asked, worried and confused.
Over the past couple of months, he and Max had become pretty close. She'd been receptive to deepening their relationship. There'd been no excuses to skip out on dinner, no broken dates, no unreturned phone calls. Now, all of the sudden, she was back to sending mixed signals. On top of that, they finally catch a break and receive what was most likely the cure to the virus that had plagued their relationship for so long, and she was leaving?
Max stifled her urge to scream. This had been exactly what she'd been afraid of… Logan and his damn endless questions. He really was a bit of a control freak. "I'm gonna go down to the garage and see if I can pick up some clues as to how that thing got here, aiight? Clues which are getting' colder by the fuckin' minute, so if you don't mind, I'd like to get to it."
With that, Max spun and blurred out of the room, forestalling any further questions from Logan. He was left standing in stunned silence, wondering what the hell was going on.
She only spent a few minutes in the garage. She wasn't really looking for clues. She knew that Alec wouldn't have left any clues to his whereabouts if he didn't want to be found. And she was terribly afraid that he didn't want to be found. Why else would he have left the box in Logan's car? She was afraid that even the barcode may have been an afterthought, just a little note to let her know the package came from someone she could trust.
He didn't want to see her, and that fact hurt almost as bad as the moment he'd left her standing alone in that alley in California.
Well, fuck that! Max thought, climbing onto her motorcycle and gunning the engine. She wouldn't give him a choice. If Alec was still in Seattle, she would find him.
After Max had left, Logan had stared at the spot where she had just been for a full minute. He couldn't seem to process what had happened. He knew Max wasn't really the trusting sort, but to just go running off like that... there had to be a reason, and more than the excuse Max had given him.
Logan hung his head, reaching up to massage the suddenly tense muscles in his neck. And to think that the evening had started out so well.
It was then that he noticed the box on the floor.
Logan's eyes narrowed. The box had fallen with the bottom facing up. There, in the upper right-hand corner, was something he hadn't noticed before. It looked like... a barcode.
The sight of it started a mental battle inside his head. Part of him thought that it didn't mean anything; it was just a barcode on the bottom of a box. No big deal, right? But the part of him that believed that was brutally slaughtered by the suspicion that now gripped him. The way Max was acting... the last time he'd seen her act like that, it had been because of him. Alec.
No, Logan thought, making a last-ditch effort at denial. It can't be. Alec's gone, been gone for a year. We put all of that behind us. But that last-ditch effort didn't stop him from picking up the box and carrying it over to his desk.
With a couple clicks of his mouse, he had the file open--Alec's file. He'd gathered quite a mass of information on the transgenic while searching for him at Max's request, the first time he'd disappeared from Seattle. A lot of it was straight from the old Manticore files. Some of it had been quite disturbing. The things Manticore had made him do... Logan almost felt sympathy for the man. But he didn't care about that information now. He was looking for one thing in particular. He opened the file containing a copy of Manticore's dossier on X5-494.
His heart sank. He held the box up to the computer screen for better comparison, but there was no mistaking it. It was Alec's barcode.
Logan let the box drop on the desk and collapsed back into his chair. He was undone by what the existence of that barcode meant.
Alec had found them the cure. Alec, the guy he had always openly disliked and secretly hated, and Logan was sure those feelings had been reciprocated. Alec, the screw up. Alec, who he'd seen snap a man's neck without a hint of remorse. Why would Alec send them the cure? Hell, the last time he'd seen Alec, he'd shot him in the leg. Logan didn't want it to make sense.
But it did make sense. The answer was obvious. He'd suspected it before Alec had disappeared, feared it when Max was alone with him in California, but now he knew for sure.
Alec was in love with Max, even if the guy didn't want to admit it. The X5 would do anything for her, much as he had in the weeks before he'd disappeared, allowing Max to drag him on Eyes Only missions that Logan knew Alec hadn't really wanted to get involved in.
Logan glanced at the cure, sitting--now, not so innocently--on his desk. For some reason, Alec thought that this was the thing that would make Max happy.
Logan pulled off his glasses and tossed them carelessly onto his desk, then ran a hand over his face. He remembered how Max's whole demeanor had changed when she'd glanced at the bottom of the box. She didn't need to find out more information on how the package had gotten here--she already knew.
Max wasn't looking for clues. She was looking for Alec.
Logan bent forward and placed his head in his hands. Max had been holding back, all this time. The signs were there, but he'd ignored them, because he hadn't wanted to see. He'd allowed the intensity of his own emotions to mask Max's half-hearted ones.
What the hell would he do if she found Alec? The thought of living his life without Max was frightening. He'd done it twice before: first, when she'd been recaptured by Manticore and he'd thought she was dead, and again when she'd stayed in California to try to save Alec's soul. He hadn't handled it well either time. He'd buried himself in his work, virtually becoming his work. That was no way to live.
God, what the hell would he do if she didn't find him? If Max came back to him, could he just go on, pretending that nothing had happened and that he was none the wiser? Could he live with the fact that he was her second choice, and that the only reason Max was with him was that Alec was gone? Could he love a woman whose heart belonged to someone else?
Logan laughed bitterly, and it was tinged with self loathing. He almost wished that Max would find Alec, because then he wouldn't have to make that choice.
Max spent hours looking for Alec. She went to every place she thought he might possibly be, and when that didn't work out, she began to check places at random. Bars, strip clubs, the docks, hotels, apartment buildings…anywhere that might hold some sign of his passing. But there was nothing, not even a hint of him. As the moon made its way across the night sky, her search became more frantic in response to her dying hopes. Wherever she went, people got out of her way, as if they sensed that she was a woman on the edge.
In the end, she went to Terminal City, her last bastion of hope. He might not want to see her, but he could've stopped by to see Joshua. It was a slim hope, because she knew that Joshua would have had someone get in touch with her if Alec had shown up, but it was all she had left.
Max blew through the buildings of TC like a hurricane, searching for Joshua or Alec. She radiated tension, so much that it surrounded her in an almost palpable bubble. The denizens of the transgenic city could sense it, and there was often a subtle shift as she passed--a slight change in stance and an immediate wariness--as they instinctively recognized a threat.
Max had no time for them. She needed to find Joshua. If she found him, then she could end this crazy search that was tearing her apart from the inside. If she found Joshua, alone, then she would know for sure. She couldn't stop looking until she knew for sure.
Max blindly blasted through the double doors to the building that had been designated as TC's Mess Hall, and she hardly registered the grunt of pain and muffled thud until she heard someone call her name. Max's head whipped around to find Flynn half-sitting, half-lying in the floor, hand gingerly touching his now bloody nose.
"Flynn," she said after a moment, her brain so nerve-wracked that she had a hard time pulling the name that went with the face. "Sorry," she added as an afterthought.
Flynn watched, puzzled, as Max turned her head to scan the room. She apparently didn't find what she was looking for--the late night poker game Flynn had just dropped out of obviously not interesting her. She frowned and spun on her heel, leaving Flynn lying on the floor... not quite in a pool of his own blood, but there was blood, dammit. And though his nose wasn't broken, it frickin' hurt! It at least earned a "hey, you okay?" or a hand up or somethin'.
Max hadn't blown him off like that in a long time. Something must be wrong. He scrambled to his feet and ran to catch up with her.
"Hey, Max, slow down!" he called out, slowing to a jog as he caught up with her. Max didn't stop, but continued to walk purposefully down the alley, eyes focused straight ahead of her. He managed to catch a glimpse of those eyes, and they seemed a bit shinier than usual, as if she was holding back tears.
Shit. He hated dealing with tears.
"Max, stop," Flynn said firmly, grabbing her arm to bring her to a halt. Max halted, but she yanked her arm roughly out of his grasp and whirled on him, causing him to take an involuntary step backwards.
"Don't touch me," Max snapped. Her voice had a high, desperate quality that made Flynn even more nervous.
Flynn raised his hands in surrender, eyebrows disappearing under shaggy blonde bangs. "Okay. Okay. Sorry."
They stood for a moment, staring each other down, Max breathing heavily as Flynn fought his instincts. Whatever vibe Max was putting out, it made his body want to respond to her as if she was a threat. He lowered his arms and shoved his hands into his pockets to make sure he didn't take a swing at her. "What's going on?" he asked warily.
At first, he didn't think she was going to answer him. She wouldn't look him in the eye, and it seemed like she was about to bolt. But all of the sudden, her eyes snapped to his, and it was like he'd gone back in time. It was the look her eyes had held the day he'd met her... grief, loss, anguish.
"You seen Joshua?" Max asked, trying for casual but failing miserably.
"Not around," Flynn replied, eyes narrowed as he stared at Max, trying to figure out what was up. "He's out prowlin' the tunnels with Mole. Needed to stretch their legs or somethin'. Why?"
Max ignored Flynn's question, instead asking one of her own. "And no one else was asking around about him?"
"No," Flynn shot back, shifting impatiently. "What's going on, Max?"
Max's jaw clenched, and her lips became a hard line. "Nothing," she said brusquely, turning to walk away.
"Oh, no you don't," Flynn said, blurring around her to block her path. He did not make the mistake of laying hands on her again. "I'm not letting you outta my sight until you tell me what's bugging you. "
Max went to move around him, but Flynn countered and blocked her path once more. She moved again, he blocked again. "I can keep doing this all night," he said without a hint of his usual humor.
Max stilled and hung her head, placing her hands on her hips. The only way she was going to get by Flynn was to go through him, and, appealing as that thought was at the moment, she had enough control left to remember that Flynn was her friend.
"Why aren't you with Ari?" Max asked, still looking at the ground. She didn't quite trust that her eyes wouldn't give her away.
"She's doing the girls' night out thing with Cece, and don't change the subject."
Max heaved a frustrated sigh. She took a couple of steps over to the wall of the alley and then leaned her back against it. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the ground. She let her head fall back, looking up at Flynn.
"We have the cure," she said in a tired voice.
Flynn's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected that one. "Cure as in the nasty, Logan-killing virus type cure?"
A slight nod was Max's only response. "Wow," Flynn said, reaching up to scratch his head, not really sure how he should respond. Max was not really acting like this was a good thing.
"He left it. In Logan's car."
"Who left it?" Flynn asked. Max didn't answer, just stared at him with a bleak look in her eyes. Flynn was silent as it took a moment for his brain to process that look, but then it clicked. "Alec?" he asked, incredulous. He didn't see how it was possible, but Flynn didn't know of anyone else who could put that look in Max's eyes. "You sure?"
Max gave a bitter laugh, then leaned forward and let her head rest on her bent knees.
"Shit," Flynn said, going over to sit down against the wall next to Max. "He was here? In Seattle?"
"Was being the operative word," Max said wryly.
"Hey, you don't know that. He could still be around. Could be he's laying low until he figures out what to say to you."
Max turned her head to look at him, and he could see the defeat in her eyes. "No. If he was still here, I would've found him by now. He's in the wind."
"I could help you look…" Flynn said in a small, almost apologetic tone.
Max shook her head. "You and I both know that you can't find a transgenic that doesn't want to be found. He's long gone."
Flynn made several false starts before placing a hand on Max's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Max."
Max's face hardened at the pity Flynn couldn't disguise in his voice. "Don't be," she said tersely, shrugging off his hand. The sadness that had been on the verge of drowning her dissipated, replaced by a slow, burning anger that threatened to become a raging inferno. She didn't want to be around anyone when that happened.
Max shoved herself to her feet and away from the wall in one smooth motion that had Flynn scrambling to catch up. But as soon as he made it to his feet, Max's planted a hand in his chest and pinned him against the wall. "Look, I don't need your pity, and I don't need a shoulder to cry on. I just want to be alone, all right? Just leave me alone." Then the hand was gone, as she took off in a blur of motion.
Flynn watched her go, but he did not follow. He knew better. Max would probably hurt him if he followed. It wasn't that he couldn't take it--he would've let Max take her frustrations out on him if he thought it would've helped. He just wanted to spare her the guilt he knew she would feel after. Still, his heart ached for her. He knew that Max had never really gotten over Alec, and now this happened, reopening all the old wounds? It just wasn't right.
Flynn's face darkened. How could Alec do that to her? Of all the things the guy could've done, leaving them cure--thereby forcing Max's hand with the whole Logan situation--was one of the worst. And, in Flynn's opinion, a completely chickenshit thing to do.
Flynn decided that if he ever did run into Alec, he would give the transgenic a piece of his mind. Quite possibly followed by a swift kick in the ass.
Hours after the sun had set, Alec quietly slipped over the border into Mexico, almost appalled by how easy it was. He'd actually been hoping they would've at least spotted him and given chase. It might've distracted him from everything that was currently weighing down his brain.
He walked for a while, alone with thoughts as dark as the night around him. He'd been so convinced that he had to go back to the beginning of Alec, to make up for his mistakes, make things right. And, in his mind, that had meant finding the cure.
It pissed him off, how quickly he'd found it. Three months. Three months was all it took to not only track down some of the scientists responsible for the nastier things that came out of Manticore, but also to convince them to recreate the cure. Sure, it had been his sole purpose for three months, and he'd been a little overzealous with the convincing, but still. Logan had been looking for fucking ever, and he, Alec, had managed to find it in three months? If Logan hadn't been such a narrow-minded, self-important, hero-complexing idiot... like if it couldn't be found in cyberspace, it didn't exist. For a guy who was supposedly head over heels for Max, had almost been killed by her touch, he hadn't really put out a whole lot of effort. Probably too busy with his Eyes Only shit. Stupid, stupid man.
Now they had the cure. Max could be with Logan, if that was what she still wanted. She had to still want that, right? She and Logan were like the classic star-crossed lovers of some great romance. This was the way things were supposed to be.
Alec had done what he'd had to. He'd given Max back the choice he'd helped to take away so long ago. He gave her a chance for a happy ending. He'd made amends.
Then why did he feel so torn inside?
Ever since he dropped off the cure and left, something had been eating away at him. It was a strange feeling. He was still wary of feelings. After having shut them down for so long, he still had a hard time dealing.
He chalked it up to guilt. He knew he shouldn't have handled it the way he had. He had intended to talk to Max, hand her the cure in person, but he'd chickened out. He'd been waiting for the right time to confront her, following her after she got off work at Jam Pony. She hadn't picked up that he was tailing her--he had his extra years of training at Manticore to thank for that.
He'd stopped dead in his tracks when she entered Fogel Tower, all good intentions derailing. Of course she was going to see Logan. Max would've gotten over the thing she'd thought she'd had for him long ago. She was in love with Logan. Wasn't that why he'd gone and found them the cure in the first place? Right, he'd told himself. So just march on up there, wish them well, and hand them the cure.
But he couldn't. He just couldn't face her, with Logan. He didn't really think about the why of it. He just couldn't do it.
So he'd come up with the idea of leaving it for Logan to find. He waited until the next night, then had broken into Logan's car and left it on the seat. He figured by the time Logan found it, he could be long gone. He needed to move on. Max had a life here, and he would not mess that up for her. Not again.
The barcode had been a last minute compulsion on his part. He told himself it was because he wanted to let her know that she could trust what he'd found for them. But it was a lie. He'd always been good at lying, even to himself.
What he really wanted was for Max to know that he was out there somewhere, alive and whole again. That he'd been strong enough to make it on his own.
Somewhere, in a little tiny corner of his bruised and battered heart, he held on to the small, secret hope that she'd come find him.
That was all behind him, now. He knew he should feel relieved. But as he walked under the dark Mexican sky, what he felt was a twinge of doubt. He couldn't stop thinking about what he had given Max, and what it meant for Max and Logan now that they had the cure.
A memory popped into his head, so clear and potent that he slowed to a stop. It wasn't the memory of the crazy, passionate lovemaking that he'd cut short with his rooftop confession, though that had been on his mind a bit more than usual of late. No, it was the moment that directly preceded it, when Max had kissed him for the first time.
He remembered with perfect clarity how he'd felt at that moment. He'd been coming apart at the seams, and then Max's lips had touched his, and everything had stopped. For a moment, the voice, the things he had done, the memories he'd buried, everything just disappeared. There was nothing but her, and that one, perfect kiss. And now Logan could…
Alec shook his head to clear it. There was no point in thinking about that now. Max had moved on with her life. It was time he moved on with his.
As every step took him further and further away from the object of his thoughts, he began to wonder if he had done the right thing.
Max paced angrily inside the Space Needle. She stayed inside, because she was afraid that she just might fall off if she went up top. Her anger had turned into a blind rage.
"Sonofabitch!" she yelled, and kicked viciously at an old chair, one of the few pieces of junk that still remained intact after her rampage. She was in a destructive mood, and instead of going somewhere that somebody might end up getting hurt, she'd come here to the Space Needle and proceeded to vent her emotions, transgenic-style. She picked what remained of the now broken chair and screamed a cry of rage as she flung it at the opposite wall. It shattered on the force of impact, breaking into unidentifiable bits.
Her rage spent, Max stood panting in the center of the room, epicenter to the destruction around her. As she surveyed the damage she had done, it almost seemed like another person had done it, like she had stepped outside of herself and watched as some strange force took her over and ripped the room to shreds.
Max tried to take a slow breath to calm herself, but ended up gritting her teeth when it hitched in her chest. No tears. Not this time, she told herself. She grabbed onto her anger and held tight, because the alternative was not acceptable.
"You asshole," she whispered harshly as she sank to her knees in the middle of chaos. "Motherfucking asshole."
She wished he hadn't put his barcode on that goddamn box. It would've been better not knowing. It was so much worse to know that he could just drop of the cure and leave. That he could come that close and still not want to see her.
To make amends, the note had said. There was such finality in those words. Those words signified paying off old debts, tying up loose ends. Bringing closure to their disastrous non-relationship.
It was over. All this time, she had never accepted that simple fact, but now she knew for sure. He didn't want her. Alec--alive and well, but still, he didn't want her.
He was telling her to move on.
Max felt her simmering anger rise once more to the boiling point. What the hell had she been doing, waiting around for him all this time? Letting life pass her by as she secretly hoped that someday he'd come riding to her rescue. She'd kept telling herself that she had moved on, but she hadn't. Original Cindy and Flynn had warned her, but she had ignored them. Deny, deny, deny: that had been her motto. God, how fucking pathetic could you get?
Max surged to her feet and walked purposely through the destruction, making her way out onto the top of the Space Needle.
She stopped a mere foot away from the edge, tempting fate and the whipping winds to rip her from her perch. Her dark locks flew wildly as she looked out over the cityscape below. Her hands were balled into tight fists at her sides.
"You want me to move on?" Max screamed out into the night, knowing that Alec would never hear her but just needing to get it out. "Live again?" she continued, mocking the words of the note Alec had left her long ago. "Is that what you want?! Is it?!"
Max's chest heaved with emotion as she stared out the Seattle skyline, her own words echoing in her mind.
The city had never seemed so silent.
Max spun in a tight circle and moved quickly back inside. She didn't run, but moved steadily, with newfound purpose. As she headed down the Space Needle, shoulders squared and eyes full of fire, she growled out that purpose, her words reverberating against the walls around her.
"Fine then. I'll move the fuck on."
Logan's head shot up as Max stormed into the room. He'd been sitting--more like slouching--in his desk chair for hours, unable to sleep, steadily drumming his fingers against the desk top while staring at the floor. He must've gone through a thousand different scenarios of what he would do if Max walked back in his door, and had vetoed every single one. Now he had no more time to think, because Max was standing across from him, eyes blazing, looking like some mythical warrior-goddess on the eve of combat.
"Hey," he said hoarsely, rising to his feet. He cleared his throat nervously, and all of the sudden he didn't know what to do with his hands. He stuffed them into his pockets. "Find anything?" he asked, really meaning Find Him
"No," Max replied succinctly, closing the subject. She stared at him for a moment, then moved swiftly over to the desk to pick up the metal container holding the cure. "I want to test it," she said, her words leaving no room for argument.
She didn't find him, Logan thought. Instead of relief, Logan found his muscles tensing even further. Oh, hell, what should I do? What should I do?
He stalled.
"I spoke to Sam about that. He said he could see us tomorrow evening."
"No," Max snapped out again, and never had her words held so much bite. "Now."
Logan frowned, her tone making him unconsciously take a step back. He looked down at his watch, and his eyebrows shot up. He hadn't realized the time. "It's after 3:00 in the morning, Max. You can't expect Sam to..."
"I don't expect Sam to," Max interrupted. Her anger rode still, barely contained, under the surface, and it was pushing her to action. "We can take it to TC. My people can test it."
Max watched a look of derision cross Logan's face before he quickly schooled his countenance to concern. "Max, I really don't think that anyone at Terminal City is quite qualified..." he began, but Max cut him off again.
"Why? You think just because we were designed by man instead of God that were not as good as you? That we're not as smart as you?"
Logan held up his hands in surrender. He had no idea how they had suddenly come to the Us versus Them debate, and he could clearly tell that Max had lumped him in with Them. "Look, that's not what I'm saying. It's just..." He trailed off, searching desperately for a way to salvage the conversation. "...do you even have the equipment to test this kind of thing?"
Max's lips twisted in a half-smile, half grimace. "You'd be surprised at what we have." With that, she turned, the metal container still in her hand, and headed for the elevator. Halfway there, she stopped and turned her head back towards Logan, who hadn't moved. "You comin'?"
Logan stood stock still, Max's simple question having so many not-so-simple implications on his life. Could he accept the fact that if Alec had still been in Seattle, Max would not be here with him now? Or should he end it, and not risk the heartache that may come?
As he stared at her perfect profile, he came to a conclusion. You couldn't choose who you loved; your heart chose for you. He could no more stop loving Max then he could make his heart stop beating.
"Yeah," Logan replied quietly, grabbing his jacket as he chose to follow wherever she would lead.
The cure was legit. One of Terminal City's medically talented transgenics--who fortunately was up due to a good dose of shark DNA in her system--tested their blood samples against the supposed cure three times, and each time, it was successful.
Max held out her arm to the med tech, pulling up her sleeve. "Do it," she said firmly.
Logan blanched at this. "Max, are you sure? Don't you think we should get verification from an outside source before we take this step?"
"No. I want this over with. Besides, if it doesn't work, we have plenty of transgenics here that can donate a little blood to fix you up, like last time. Just do it," she told the tech again, and this time the transgenic obeyed. "How long will it take?" she asked as she watched the clear liquid entered her veins.
"With transgenic metabolism, about fifteen. I'd wait a half hour to be sure."
"Got it." Max hopped down from the table she had been sitting on, then turned to Logan. "Now we wait."
Thirty minutes of awkward, forced conversation later, Max stood with her bare hand hovering over Logan's.
"You ready?" she said with a hint of nervousness. Despite her frantic urge to get this done, she had no desire to hurt him.
Logan swallowed hard, then nodded. "As I'll ever be."
"Okay," Max breathed, and slowly lowered her hand until it touched Logan's.
She didn't know what she was expecting. A jolt, perhaps? A tingle, even? The only thing she felt was the feel of Logan's smooth, un-callused hand against her own. No fire, no burn... just the feel of his slightly cooler skin against hers.
She looked up into his face, watching for any hint of a negative reaction. After two full minutes, she felt the tension loosen from her chest, and the long-standing weight that Renfro had placed on her shoulders so long ago finally lifted. After more than two years of constant vigilance, she could finally stand down.
"I can't kill you," Max whispered in awe.
Logan smiled down at her, his eyes bright behind his glasses. "Well, not by accident, anyway."
Max smirked at this. "Ha ha. Let's get you outta here before the toxins start hittin' ya."
They left Terminal City, hand in hand. Later, when Logan stopped in front of Max's apartment building to drop her off, Max raised her eyebrows in a silent question.
"Look," Logan said, bowing his head, "I don't wanna rush this, okay? Just because we can touch now doesn't mean we have to rush things." Max didn't reply, just stared at him like her eyes would bore right through him. He cleared his throat, then quietly added, "I want you to be sure."
"I am sure, Logan," Max said, placing her hand on the back of Logan's neck. She didn't want to think about this. She just wanted to get it done. Move the fuck on. Right now, before she had second thoughts.
Logan gently peeled Max's hand away. "Maybe I want to be sure," he told her, staring back at her with those soulful blue eyes that he hid behind glasses.
Max clenched her teeth. Logan wasn't cooperating. Why couldn't he fucking cooperate? What kind of man turned down sex? A stupid man, she thought, but another part of her countered with the thought, A good man.
Max sighed. Looks like they'd be playing by Logan's rules from this point on. "I can live with that," she said softly, nodding. Then she opened the car door and stepped out. She paused, hand on the open door, and looked back at him. "See you tomorrow?" she asked. "Dinner?"
Logan smiled crookedly. "It's a date."
It was the first of many, in the new, post-cure world. They took it slow. This irritated Max at first, but after her initial anger had burned off, she found she was grateful for Logan's chivalry. She'd been rushing headlong into something that she had never taken casually in her life--well, except during her heat-induced escapades, but those didn't count--and if Logan hadn't put on the brakes, she would've risked destroying what they had.
But what did they have, really? Sometimes Max wondered. It wasn't anything like what she'd felt for Alec. What she'd felt for him had been a consuming fire. It had filled her up until she thought she would explode, had torn her down when she knew it was lost. That had been love. How could what she felt for Logan be love if it paled in comparison?
But still, she stayed. She kept telling herself that she needed to give this thing between her and Logan a chance, to give their relationship time to grow into something more. She threw herself whole-heartedly into giving them that chance.
One day, she hoped she might love Logan as much as he loved her. She tried not to feel guilty that today wasn't that day.
Two months after the virus had been cured, two months of ever-so-gradually increasing intimacy between them, Logan proposed that they take the next step.
They were in Logan's apartment, having dinner as they usually did, though this time they were dining on prime rib--which Max had provided via a somewhat dubious source--because she was sick to death of pasta. Logan had cracked open a bottle of a very nice vintage of pre-pulse wine, and some high-brow, fancy instrumental music was playing softly in the background.
The candles were lit. The mood was set. And Max hated that it felt like just another day to her. She continually reminded herself that she was supposed to be enjoying this.
They were almost through with the main course when Logan reached across the table and took her hand in his. "Max," he said hesitantly, rubbing his thumb softly over the top of her hand. "I was wondering..." He trailed of, suddenly unable to meet her eyes, and she thought she detected a slight increase in his heartbeat.
"What is it?" she asked, feeling her own heartbeat speed up.
"I..." he began again, then had to pause to clear his throat. "I was hoping to arrange a special evening for us."
Max's heart stuttered in her chest. She covered her nerves with a crooked smile. "Don't you know anything, Logan? You're supposed to tell me every night with me is special."
Logan grinned at this, thankful that Max could break through his tension. "Of course it is. I guess I was hoping to arrange something extra special. I thought... well, that is... I've reserved a suite for us at the Fairmont this weekend. Friday and Saturday, actually." Logan swallowed hard, and hoped that Max wouldn't think he was being presumptuous. His next words came out in a rush. "If you don't want to, just say the word and I'll cancel it right away."
Max raised her eyebrows at him. "Fairmont, huh? Pretty swanky."
"Yeah." Logan paused, holding his breath for a moment, then let it our slow. "If you're not ready for this, I'll understand."
Max stared down at her plate. Don't do it, her mind whispered, but when she looked up into Logan's blue eyes, she found herself confidently telling him, "I'll meet you there."
"Okay, boo, we been round this before, an Original Cindy been keepin' her mouth shut of late when it come to you an Logan--figured you come to your senses eventually. Since it's clear that's not the case, it high time homegirl lay it out for you straight."
Original Cindy stood in the door to Max's bedroom, arms crossed and a no-nonsense look on her face. The reason OC was doing double-duty as a human roadblock was currently packing a bag for a little weekend getaway. A getaway that her supposed best friend had neglected to tell her about--and hadn't that fuckin' hurt--until said friend had popped out of the bathroom looking like she'd stepped out of the pages of some magazine.
The dress was a velvety blood red that trailed to the floor, curve-hugging and backless and sure to stop traffic. Her lips were painted to match the dress, her hair trailed down her back in soft curls, and she was balancing on four-inch spikes. She'd even painted her fingernails and toenails.
She looked gorgeous. And she also looked like she was trying too hard.
"You shouldn't be doin' this Max," Cindy said, the tinge of anger and hurt that had been in her voice now overridden by concern.
Max sighed, hanging her head as she zipped her bag shut. "Why not?" she asked, her voice tired. She didn't want to fight.
"You don't love him."
Max forced herself not to flinch as the words hit home. She had heard similar words before, from Flynn, and they were still true. "I could," Max said, almost wistfully. "I just need to try harder."
Cindy walked over to Max and turned her so that they were face to face, keeping her hands clasped around Max's upper arms. "Having sex is not tryin' harder, Max. It won't fix what's wrong wit' you an' Logan. It'll just complicate things."
She could tell from the set of Max's jaw and the look in her eyes that she was not getting through. Girl was fuckin' stubborn. "Dammit, Max! Stop and think about what you're doing!" she said with a raised voice, giving Max a little shake to punctuate her words.
Max closed her eyes and let her head fall back. "I'm tired of thinking, Cin. I just want to feel. What's so wrong with that?"
"This ain't casual sex were talkin' 'bout, boo. If it were jus' that, I'd say have at it. But this is Logan. That man is in love with you. What you're doin', it's not right."
Max tried to ignore the not-so-subtle pricks at her conscience. She'd made up her mind, and nothing was going to change it. She looked her friend in the eye and smiled weakly. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do. You always got my back. But this is somethin' I need to do, okay?"
OC's shoulders sagged in defeat. "You sure?" she asked softly, a line of worry dug between her eyebrows.
Max pulled Original Cindy to her and held on tight. "Yeah," she whispered shakily into OC's hair. She gave her friend one more squeeze, then pulled back. Max leaned over to pick up her bag, hefting it onto her shoulder. "See you Sunday," she said, the smile on her face never reaching her eyes.
Original Cindy turned and leaned against the doorjamb as she watched Max leave. She wanted to stop her, but she knew she couldn't. If Max was determined to make her own mistakes, she would just have to let her, and be there to catch her when she fell.
Max stood outside the Fairmont Olympic Hotel, in her stunning red dress, staring up at the grand entrance. Logan was somewhere inside, in what she was sure would be the best suite they had, waiting for her.
Her feet were rooted to the ground.
She'd been standing there for ten minutes. The enormity of what she was about to do had finally struck her.
She was about to spend the night with Logan. Make love with Logan. Once she did it, there was no going back.
Her inner soldier--the part of her that, as much as she liked to deny it, she would never truly be rid of--wasn't happy with her vacillation. She'd laid out her course of action. It was time to execute.
Just do it, the soldier commanded.
Max squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She was doing this. She was going to do this, and no one--not Flynn or Original Cindy or Alec, not the person that stared back at her from the mirror every day--was going to get in her way.
Max walked into the Fairmont, a woman on a mission.
It was late. Much too late to be sitting on the floor of a bathroom in an expensive hotel. But there she was, on the floor, wrapped in nothing but one of the fluffy hotel robes, staring blankly at the mirrored wall of the bathroom.
She wished that she had listened to Original Cindy.
It wasn't that Logan was a horrible lover. Quite the opposite, actually. He had been gentle and giving, so concerned about her needs, so eager to please. He'd brought her to orgasm, though it had been more of a gentle wave of pleasure than a mind-numbing explosion.
It was just that… and though she tried not to think of him, tried not to compare… she had felt so much when she had been with Alec. So much that her body could hardly contain it. It was like their two souls had been connected. It had felt so right.
She had made love to Logan, and she had waited for that feeling to come, but it never did.
Afterward, when Logan had finally fallen asleep, a soft smile on his face, she found herself overwhelmed by everything she didn't feel. She'd slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and retreated to the bathroom, where she could engage in self-loathing without interruption.
She'd been there for over an hour.
She stared herself in the mirrored wall until her eyes began to burn. She could almost hear Original Cindy's voice in her head, mimicking words of warning that had been uttered long ago…
Guess you gone an' done somethin' stupid after all.
Max laughed bitterly and rolled her eyes heavenward, then lifted the bottle of very expensive wine she'd brought with her into the bathroom and took a long swig. She didn't know why she bothered. She'd drunk more than half of the bottle, but it hadn't done a thing. Fucking metabolism.
What bothered her most was the empty feeling inside of her that Logan was unable to fill. She had hoped that maybe, if she took this step, that it would strengthen the connection between her and Logan and make that feeling go away.
She should have known better. She knew now, without a doubt, there was only one person that could fill that hole, and he was lost to her.
Max slowly set the wine bottle back down. In her distracted state, she didn't notice that she'd set the bottle down on the edge of her robe. It tipped over, spilling the expensive liquid onto the pristine tile floor in a small red pool.
Max looked at the pool of wine, head tilting slightly to the side as she pondered it. Red wine. It was a pretty color, one that contradicted itself. The color of romance. The color of anger. Love and hate, all wrapped up in it.
Love and hate. Max and Alec. They were the same.
Max knew that she would give anything to see Alec again. But if that wish ever came true, and one day she found him standing in front of her, she swore to herself that she would punch him dead in the face.
After two hours in the bathroom, Max managed to compose herself. She cleaned up the evidence of her late night angst-fest, then crawled back into bed with Logan. He was still out like a light, oblivious to her inner torment.
Max stared at the ceiling for the rest of the night, unable to shake the feeling that she had betrayed Alec and, worse yet, her own heart.
A/N: Don't hate me. I did warn you I was unrepentantly evil. (I think I can hear the cries of NOOOOO!! already.)
Do you still trust me?
Please review. The unrepentant evil woman craves feedback. Just give me a minute to duck and cover before you hit that button.