I've never written any fanfiction. Don't own the characters or the show. Just a fan with a little time on her hands.
Max had time to think. From all of the non-stop projects and the near-constant rigmarole of the hospital and worrying about Luna and keeping his regular life stuff going (groceries, cleaning, shopping, and laundry...and all the things he was slightly flailing at), a moment. He knew was being impulsive, knocking holes and walls, and searching for the leak himself. And what was the thing with the sweatshirt? The adrenaline had started to fade enough for him to realize what a foolhardy and ridiculous thing it was to think he could stop the flow of the poison with a damned piece of fabric!
Max considered some of his actions lately. About the reason he's been running around in circles. About the need for a thousand distractions. About the person who balanced all his cockamamie ideas and somehow made them tenable. Her doe eyes that always had a little squint and glisten for him. Plumb limps, what would it feel like to kiss those lips. He thought about her hips and how he's refrained from grabbing when running his hand over her back. A little lower, a little firmer. The excuses he comes up with to stand behind her and be close and breathe her in: Helen.
She occupies so much of his waking thoughts. Some of those daydreams have a loving purity to them. Does she know he wants to save the world for her? Max said on the rooftop that he wanted to make the world a better place for Luna, for Helen. He meant Helen, and he realized how sheepishly he said it. He propelled himself (haphazardly) into so many projects trying to make New Amsterdam into something better for Helen, and maybe she'd see through his service. Maybe she'd see how he cared and adored her.
Those were the "nice" thoughts. Max had a spot of time, to be honest with himself for once.
Under those knightly endeavors, he had some baser thoughts. He'd had them enough that he could easily slip into them. That's what happens when you've had sexual dreams about someone for a few years. Far before it was decent to have them because he was still married, but where does decency come into play with daydreams anyway.
There was the one where he declared his love for her, and Helen flung into his arms. And he cups her face with his hands, leans in for a kiss. Max has thought this over a million times. They're kissing passionately, and it's all lips, tongue, and teeth. A bit of biting. He moves to her ear, licks her neck, runs his hands over her chest, down her body, and grabs her ass. They fuck in that little room in her office. Sometimes on her desk. (Cassian ruined that dream for a while. It's since come back since Cassian made off to another hospital.) There was the dream where she straddled him on the couch. And he runs his hands all over her body, starting at her neck, lingering at the dip of her clavicle before palming her breasts and tweaking her nipples just so. He accidentally looked down her blouse once in real life. Once, but it was enough to know exactly how he wanted to put his mouth on her. A million variations are so easy to call up.
But then, the other thoughts came rushing in. Waking up with Helen in the morning, brushing her braids out of the way to kiss the back of her neck. Helen getting Luna ready for school, and the sweet laughs between his girls as they get dressed.
His Luna.
His Helen.
His home.
His heart.
Max's whole heart.
As his vision weakened, Max inwardly cursed himself. He screamed for help, for anyone to save him from himself. Why did he wait? Helen laid it all out for Max when Castro left. Put herself open when he wanted to know that she loved him. He stopped himself like so many times before...and after. Not anymore. Max held himself together with a promise. He just needed a chance, and damn it, he'd take it. He'd put himself out and make sure she knew exactly how much he wanted her. That ache to love Helen, argue, spur, kiss, touch, caress, fuck, and possess-all of it. All of the above. Max prayed for a second chance to leap for it. And that faith held him up until she found him.