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Somebody, Chapter 2/2 (Conclusion) Somebody "Fuck. I'm such an idiot,' Logan said to himself, looking around the now-empty apartment. He had just lied to the one person who mattered most in his life. 'Yeah, um, work to do. That's it. Yep. Work. To do. Fuck. Why do I do that? Why am I such a coward? I'll tell you why, Cale,' he thought to himself. 'It's because you're an idiot. A total fucking moron who refuses to show any sign of weakness, especially to her. And after how you treated her tonight, you'll be damn lucky if you ever see her again. Fuck, fuck, fuck.' He walked over to the window, and looked out into the rainy night. 'So… Mother Nature is obliging us by fueling the gloom,' he thought. "Thanks, Mom," he muttered, with a bitter, humorless chuckle. He slumped down into a chair in front of the window, mentally exhausted and still reeling from the spasms that had wracked his legs and lower back just a short while ago. He put his head in his hands, and tried to let his mind go blank - - to escape from the thoughts that threatened to drive him right over the edge. But it was no use. He realized that too much had happened tonight to be able to "escape" it, so he did the next best thing - - he directed his thoughts to an analysis of every moment he had ever spent with Max. This was a game he had played before - - more often than he'd ever be willing to admit. As he continued calling himself every kind of idiot, kicking himself hard in the mental ass, he found himself replaying in his mind's eye every detail of the time they had spent together. He started the 'game' as he usually did, beginning with that first, fateful night, remembering the feelings of apprehensive dread about her intentions in his apartment. Despite himself, he had quickly found his apprehension replaced by a relentless obsession with this fascinating creature. He remembered wanting to know everything about her - - where she lived, who her friends were, what she thought about… what it would feel like to have her smile at him, to touch him… He shook his head violently then, as if it would help to clear his mind. But he was too engrossed in this self-inflicted game of torture to stop now. And it did help his aching heart a little, as it always did, just to sit and think about the details of her. He called up an image of her, from head to beautiful toe; an image he could only hope to have etched in his brain for eternity. Her full, pouty lips, the eyes that could turn from sultry temptress to merciless avenger in a matter of seconds, the asymmetrical lines of the barcode on the back of her slender neck (the only thing he had seen so far that wasn't symmetrical about her), the way she so nicely filled out the tiny little t-shirts she wore, apparently not realizing the effect they had on his poor, helpless 'nads. Yes, without consciously realizing it he had memorized her, storing every little shard of information he had about her in his puny little pea brain (as he liked to think of it in dark moments like this). There was no purpose, no direction to his thoughts. Just an escape. 'If you were as good at relationships as you are at escapism, Cale, you'd probably be a happily married man with 8 kids by now, running marriage encounter seminars, and hosting a weekly talk show about how to find true emotional fulfillment or some such crap,' he thought sullenly. He walked over to the CD player (yes, wealth has its modest advantages in 2019) and flipped through his collection, looking for a melancholy disc to suit his increasingly self-deprecating mood. "Ah, yes, the Jazz Masters Collection. Billie Holiday will keep me company once again," he said bitterly to himself, as he turned the volume up to 8, hoping to drown out his own thoughts with the poignant music. As the music started, he sat back down in front of the window, letting the anguish-soaked lyrics of love fill his consciousness. 'Good old Billie,' he thought, 'at least she understands me…' ^^^^^^^ As Max approached Logan's building, she realized that she had lost her resolve on the drive over. Gone was her plan to grab Logan by the shirt collar and kiss him passionately before he had a chance to object, replaced by the same insecurity she had faced all her life when dealing with human emotions. 'Chicken shit,' she thought to herself. 'You know the boy wants you, you've seen it in his eyes. So what the fuck are you so scared of? I'll tell you what, G. You're afraid that once your relationship with this man moves on to the next level, you won't be able to handle it, so you'll freak & you'll bail. You're scared that you'll ruin it in that fucked up way you've managed to ruin everything else in your life you ever cared about. You're afraid to admit that everything that rat bastard Lydecker has ever said about Manticore soldiers being built to maintain an emotional distance is 100% true, and you're powerless to do a damn thing to change it. ' As she exited the elevator and quietly approached his door, she heard Logan's voice, his mumbling barely perceptible over the loud music. 'Is someone with him? Is that why he wanted me to leave - - he had other plans for the evening?' she wondered, and in an instant, anger caused a thin veil of red to cloud her sight. She paused to listen, with her ear against the door. 'That motherfu…' Suddenly her thoughts were cut off as Logan's voice went from sotto voce to a piercing, tormented snarl, allowing her to hear his every word. "God damn it! Why do you do this to me? I was doing just fine with my purpose in life until you came along, and now, goddamn it, I can't get you out of my FUCKING head! I can't have you, and I don't want to live without you. So what do I do now, Max? I love you, OK? There, I said it. Jezuzfuckingchrist... I LOVE YOU MAX! This pathetic shell of half a man is in love with a woman he should be thanking for even acknowledging his wretched existence! There! I said it! Are you happy now?" There was more, but it was too low for Max to hear what he was saying, even with her finely tuned Manticore hearing. Max was dumbstruck as she stood with her ear still against the door. 'Wha… wha… wh…..?' Had he just said that he loved her? Before she could even think about how to react to this revelation, she realized that she had been experiencing a familiar, unwelcome twitching at the base of her neck for several minutes already. She was having a seizure, and in her emotional fog back at her apartment, it hadn't even crossed her mind to bring any meds with her. 'Logan… has some extra… trip…to…phan…in his medicine cabinet,' she thought, as the pain intensified and she began to shake uncontrollably. Before she could pick the lock or at least knock on the door, the razor-sharp pain gripped her and she slid down the door in a puddle of convulsing agony and sweat. She was only able to manage a pathetic smack with her palm against the door in an ineffectual attempt to get his attention, but the music inside the apartment was too loud for Logan to hear it. Her last thoughts before blacking out were of Logan's declaration of love. ^^^^^^^ A faraway thud brought Logan out of his stupor and back to reality. 'Probably just the building settling,' he concluded, without bothering to get up and check. But then he felt a shiver go through him, the likes of which he had only felt a few times before. He might not have recognized the feeling at all, might have brushed it off as a chill in the gloomy night, if it weren't for the fact that he had been contemplating it only minutes before, as he analyzed every aspect of his interaction with Max. The last time he had felt this way, Max had needed his help. Badly. He realized that it went against all common sense to venture out at this time of the night - - if he didn't get carjacked by renegades, the sector police would most likely stop him & grill him about his destination, trying to weasel a bribe out of him - - but those thoughts left his head as quickly as they had entered. 'If there's a chance at all that Max might need me, nothing can keep me from her. It's probably just my overactive imagination, taunting me for spending the evening thinking about her, but I need to check. I need to know that she's OK,' he thought to himself, as he pulled on his raincoat. 'If she's OK, I'll leave her alone. I mean, who could blame her if she didn't want to talk to me after I practically booted her out of the apartment tonight.' He opened the door and nearly collapsed at the shock of seeing her there, slumped on the threshold, her body still twitching with seizures. "Ohmygod… MAX!!!!" he screamed, as he reached to pick her up. "Max, please talk to me!" He rushed her into his bedroom, not even pausing to contemplate whether she might react badly to finding herself in his bed upon awakening. The closest room to the bathroom - - where he had her tryptophan stored - - was clearly the right decision. Placing her gently on the bed, he ran to the bathroom and yanked the bottle of clear liquid and another of rubbing alcohol out of the medicine cabinet. He then fumbled through the drawer for the syringe and a cotton ball, cursing himself for being such a sloth about keeping the drawer more organized. Rushing back to the room, he was only slightly relieved to see that she didn't look worse than she had a moment ago, and she was still breathing, albeit raggedly. After quickly filling the syringe with the liquid tryptophan, he cleaned a spot on her arm with the alcohol, and plunged the needle into her vein. Her twitching abated almost immediately, and soon her breathing started to return to normal. "God, Max, what have I done to you? Please, baby, talk to me," he pleaded, gathering her in his arms, rocking her and gently caressing her hair and shoulders. If he hadn't been such an ass, this probably wouldn't have happened. His eyes were glued to her face, and he noticed that her mouth was beginning to move, like she was trying to say something but could find neither the voice, nor the strength to speak. She finally managed a weak, "Logan…I…" "Shhhhh… It's OK now, Max. You're OK. Just relax; you're safe now. Shhhhh…," Logan whispered into her ear, over and over. He continued to stroke her hair and face comfortingly. They sat like that for a while, Logan rocking her like a child, whispering his apologies to her. "I'm so sorry, Max. I was an ass tonight, and I'm so very sorry. You are the one person in the world I should never push away like that, especially after all that you've done for me. You've saved me, in so many ways. I'm so sorry… for everything…" Finally, the medicine worked its magic and she slowly opened her eyes to look up into his. "Logan, why…?" she asked softly. "I was having trouble with… with my legs… and I didn't want to tell you. I was afraid to show you my weakness. You know, we finally seemed to be connecting on a more… uhh…n-normal level, and I couldn't stand the thought of seeing the disappointment in your eyes," he stammered, feeling the anguish all over again. "Why don't you understand that I'm a big girl, and I can handle the fact that you're just a puny earthling?" she asked with a yawn and a wink, trying to lighten the mood and tease a smile out of his somber face. Logan managed a brief, cockeyed grin, and looked over to the window where the sun was rising on a new morn. He noticed that the rain had stopped. "I'm serious, Max," he said, looking back at her lovely face intently. "I'm feeling things for you that I'm not sure I should. I can't… No, I won't endanger you by slowing you down." He kept his eyes steady, willing her not to see through his charade of strength, all the while trembling inside in anticipation of her response to his statement. Max returned his steady gaze with one of her own, and a slight smile on her lips. But the tone in her voice let Logan know that she was very serious. "Like I said, I'm a big girl. I'm ready to decide for myself what is and isn't good for me. I've fought very hard to protect the freedom of choice that I gained the night we escaped that hellhole. So humor me and let me enjoy it for a change, would ya?" she finished, breaking into the sexy little grin he already had stored away in his mental Max palette. "Are you sure?" he asked, wondering if she meant what he hoped she meant. Max made a yummy sound. "Mmmm yeah, Mr. Cale. I've decided that if you're bad for me, I just don't want to be good," she said with a gleam in her eye. If his heart hadn't been pounding so loudly in his ears, he would have heard a slight purr in her voice. Logan looked at the woman in his arms, and reacted with what could only be explained as shellshock. "Are you hungry? You've had a rough night," he finished weakly, realizing after he had said it that he had probably just blown what could have been one of the most memorable moments of his life. "Actually, Logan, there was one more thing I've wanted to do with you since the night we met," she said as she reached up and entwined her fingers in his hair, gently starting to pull his head toward hers. "Yeah? You've already kissed me once, you know," he said, catching her playful mood. "How do you know that's all I've wanted to do?" she asked before their lips finally met. ~FINIS~ Aromagik Notes: OK, I had a hard time with it so I know the ending is pretty weak and the whole thing is chock full o' girly sappitude. Heck, it's not even angst -- it's fluffy melodrama. But hey, I haven't enjoyed writing since I was really young (college is great, but it can rip the pleasure right out of writing) so at least I had a fun time of it… (= Reviews...? |
Somebody
By: Aromagik
Chapter 2 (Conclusion): Angst runs amok in Seattle, as well as in my brain. Blatant M/L sappitude.
Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,391 - Reviews: 15 - Favs: 2 - Updated: Mar 6, 2001 - Published: Mar 2, 2001 - id: 219915
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Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten
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