Journal Entry #18, August 9th, 2011
Seeing Max go is one of the hardest things I've ever done. He's going back to being a lab test. Worse, he's going back to being used. And I think, for the first time, he's also realizing who he really is.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Colleagues
The strangest thing about seeing John crossing that door was how un-Max he looked. He had the same features, the same clothes, but his whole body language betrayed him a mile away. How did you fool anybody at that base?
Maggs came in a moment later, her clever eyes missing nothing. The lab hours had been over for a while now, leaving its premises for Alex, Max and herself to play with.
Is 'Maggs' a last name or a first name? Liz wondered absently, holding the results of Max's bloodwork in her hands.
"Liz," John said with his infectious smile, one that she hoped against hope Max could grace her with. She'd managed a few small smiles and one or two chuckles, but Max being Max, that was monumental. And here John was, grinning at the slightest provocation.
"Everything went okay?" Liz asked, while Alex and Max exchanged a handshake.
"There were a few awkward moments," Maggs said pointedly to John, "but he's fast on his feet. You were always a good liar," she said as an afterthought.
John bowed. "And it's been handy all these years, thank you."
Maggs rolled her eyes, and then looked at Liz. "What do you have?"
With that, Max and John went to their corner, while Alex excused himself. Being around Max had been fun, but work had piled up for both of them. Liz suppressed an inward groan at the thought.
"How is he?" Maggs asked the moment they had some privacy.
"Bloodwork seems to indicate that—"
"Not that. How's Max?"
"I—I don't think I'm following you," Liz said, the results in her hands forgotten.
Maggs sighed, trying to find the right words. "At the risk of sounding like a soccer mom, did he have fun?"
Liz's smile came slowly as she realized the implications of Maggs' question. She nodded.
"I think he did. I mean, it's hard to tell, but… yeah. He always seems so—tense."
"Like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders," Maggs said, nodding slightly. "I know what these four years have cost him. Frank is so used to seeing him daily that he doesn't realize the gradual change. How quiet he's become about everything. How much he fears to disappoint him. But I do. I only see Max every once in a while, so I get to be objective about that." Maggs glanced at John and Max. Even from this distance, the differences were so obvious to Liz they were painful.
If only I could get you to drop that rainy cloud of yours!
"At first," Maggs said, "I thought it was the drug. But the answer was far much simpler: he's miserable. He might not admit it to himself, but he is."
That… actually makes a lot of sense.
"He's a good guy," Liz said, absently turning to look at him. Or rather, his back. "I don't think he slept much, though."
"When you live with the fears he does, you might find out sleeping at night is not easy. Now, let's get down to business. What do you have for me?"
For the first time since Liz had looked at Max's blood under the microscope one cold January night, she had someone to talk to. Someone who understood. Someone who was actually telling her what she'd been doing wrong and how to correct it. And for the first time, she realized how liberating it was to share this secret. To share the burden of freeing Max not of that base, but of this drug. And she was damn proud of her work.