Blood for Blood
By Kara (AnyaLindir@aol.com mailto:AnyaLindir@aol.com)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up through "Kidz"
Disclaimer: This is so not mine, but I can pretend
A/N: Takes place right at the end of "Kidz," as if Max walked in on Bling and Cindy after getting back from the Space Needle. Oh, and I realize the medical science is sketchy at best… I was an English major, so blame me for all inaccuracies. g
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I should've known that Bling would go talk to my boo. He doesn't just look out for Logan anymore. Sometimes he gives me that same protective look. Original Cindy and I don't play for the same team, she's always got my back. Lesbian or not, my boo's the original hopeless romantic. And for some reason, Original Cindy picked my hopeless romance to get interested in.
I guess it's not totally hopeless. When Logan was up on his feet, I actually let myself think about it sometimes. I never said the L word or anything-even in my mind, but sometimes…sometimes I maybe thought about it. Just like sometimes I maybe thought about that dream I had with Logan, when we danced…
He's Logan. He's my partner, and my friend. I'm the legs of Eyes Only, since his aren't working too well just yet. He needs me. And sometimes, I need him.
So when I walked in on Bling and Original Cindy after clearing my head at the Needle, I was surprised. Not too surprised, though. When I saw Bling, I knew something was wrong, just because I didn't think he was the kinda fella to make a social call on my boo. Not that Original Cindy isn't a looker. She just isn't looking for someone like Bling…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Logan stared out the window at the rain. When he was younger, he used to love the way Seattle looked under water, as if it were the mythical Atlantis, lost under the sea. Now, the rain that fell often as not was hazardous, carrying with it the aftereffects of the acid rain prevalent in the 20th century, and it only made the city look like more and more of an economic wasteland. But when he wanted to be morose and bitter, it was the perfect backdrop for his self-pity.
His legs weren't working anymore. Whatever nerve regrowth Max's blood had started was dwindling, and the new synapses were too weak to fully function on their own. Ironically enough, it was the very weaknesses in Max's own blood that undid him. For her, the faulty genetic code came out in seizures. For him, the renegade DNA said that, unless he gets a new supply of genetically engineered blood as often as is healthy, the nerves won't renew themselves, and the neural pathways will grow stagnant again. Logan hadn't resigned himself to the chair yet, but the metal wheelchair in the corner seemed to mock him more and more with each passing hour.
When the door opened, Logan automatically assumed it was Bling, coming back from whatever errand had taken him away. One look at Logan on the kitchen floor, punching the wall, had been telling enough. Logan's mouth tightened, as it always did when he showed his weakness to someone else. At least Bling hadn't shown any pity towards him--never had.
The footsteps in the foyer were lighter than Bling's. They sounded almost like the soft padding of a cat, or a genetically engineered ninja in black leather. Before she even spoke, Logan knew what Bling had done. He told Max.
A dark head came into his sight, blocking his view of the window. Logan tried to turn his head away, but the delicate olive-skinned face always followed him. "Why didn't you tell me?" The voice was matter-of-fact, emotionless. The voice of the perfect soldier.
Logan met Max's dark eyes, almost afraid of what he'd find there. He'd expected pity, even from the woman who'd never shown him an ounce of pity before. But what he found was…astonishing.
Her face was the carefully-schooled look that Manticore had taught her to turn to the world. Her eyes…there were tears in her brown eyes. Logan had never seen Max cry before, not when Zack left the first time, not when she'd told him about meeting Hannah, and what she'd learned about her mother. But this…the tears that ran down her smooth cheeks…this was something Logan hadn't thought possible.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked again, in the same blank voice.
The question was simple, the answer a little more complex. Why didn't he tell her? The same reason why Logan never told Max about Daphne, or Valerie. Why Max never knew about his mother's locket. Because Logan Robert Cale II had always been a failure to his family, to the women he loved, to the world he couldn't save.
"Because I couldn't," he said finally, trying to break away fro her dark eyes. "Because I…" Because she was Max, his own Stygian angel with a tarnished halo. Because she was this beautiful, vibrant woman that he couldn't imagine his life without. Because he was a failure, and a cripple, and he loved her.
Max's eyes dropped, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. Her hand reached out to his bare feet, propped up on the ottoman. One finger ran itself lightly over the bottom of his foot, and he twitched. Logan definitely felt that whisper-touch. Other uncontrollable parts of his body felt it too, and his face heated briefly.
"Did you see a doctor?" Max wouldn't meet his eyes, staring instead out at Seattle like some sort of dark sentinel.
"I called him." Logan watched Max's brown fingers run up and down his foot. "He said that the nerves have stopped regenerating." The doctor had said a few other things, but Max didn't need to hear about those. If Max didn't know, then she still had hope, and as long as she still believed…
He felt a dip in the couch cushion as Max sat down beside him. She'd moved his legs so fast that he almost didn't feel it until she laid his feet in her lap. Logan looked at her, almost afraid of what she might say next. There was something about the determined look on her face, still wet with tears. It was the same face she'd given him when he confronted her about the implant that had almost killed her. The look that said, you won't be able to change my mind, because I can still kick your ass.
"Do you still have the catheters and the tubing?"
Logan stared at her. "What?"
Max rolled her eyes. "The tubing and shit. Remember? From the last time." But the derision in her voice wasn't as sharp as usual.
"In the bathroom under the sink, why?" Logan stared at her as she got to her feet. Then, to his surprise, she picked him up in her arms and carried him with ease towards the bedroom. "Not that I haven't imagined this, Max, but what are we doing?"
Max smiled nonchalantly as she dumped him on his bed. Looking over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom, he swore she winked at him. "We might as well be comfortable."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Logan looked at the drowsy woman beside him in bed. Only with Max would being in bed involve a blood transfusion, two needles, and some tubing. Being drained of blood was the only time that Max seemed to sleep-that, and when she was brought back from the dead.
He twitched his leg slightly, relieved to find that some of the muscles still responded. Small things like that were still a miracle-being able to stand upright in the shower, straightening tangled sheets out with his toes… Miracles were being able to feel anything, something he wouldn't take for granted anymore.
Somehow, his free hand fell to the short dark curls on the pillow beside his head. Max's sister Tinga wore her hair long. So had Brin. But Max… Max kept hers just long enough to cover the brand on the back of her neck. Looking at the soft curls, Logan couldn't help remembering how she'd worn her hair at Bennett's wedding, how all of her Manticore siblings had adapted to hiding the barcode. Max wore her hair long enough to hide her barcode, but not so long that she hid herself in it.
"Logan?" The body next to him stirred.
He smiled down at her. Most people looked like the children they used to be when they slept. Max had never been a child, but she did look like she could've been someone's baby sister at some point. She was softer now-still feral, but there was an ease about Max that Logan had never really seen before.
"Hey, Max." His fingers tangled themselves in her wiry curls before he could help it.
Her eyes looked down to their intertwined arms, the fragile tube between them still red with her blood. Logan's eyes followed her fingers as they deftly unhooked their arms free of the catheters. "Once a month should take care of restoring your nerve damage." Her mouth quirked. "Soon you might even be an honorary member of Manticore."
Logan blinked. "Once a month? You're willing to do this once a month, for me?" Because they'd never discussed their relationship or whatever it was, Logan was stunned surprised to hear words of commitment from Max. Especially something like this.
Max gave him one of her half-smiles as she laid back on the bed. "A life for a life," she answered lightly. "Blood for Tryptophan. I think it comes out even." Her face darkened slightly. "Zack always said that a good squadron takes care of its own."
Zack. Zack was a sore point. Logan hated to admit it to himself, but he'd loved the look of shock on the blonde's face when he saw Logan standing on his own. Petty as it was, it still gave his predatorial male heart a thrill that Max chose Seattle after going with her brother-the man that she'd risked her life for not once, but twice…
"Zack…" Logan tried not to look at Max. He knew she was still hurting after Zack disconnected the contact number. "Zack…"
A calloused hand turned his face towards Max. "I love him, Logan." Her brown eyes were frank, as if there was no other way to put it. And there wasn't. Zack was the one who had freed her from Manticore. Zack was the one who had always protected her. How could Logan, a cripple, even try to replace that?
But before his heart sank too far into despair, Max gave him another small smile. "He's my brother, Logan. We're family." Her face fell again. "And he can't ever be any more than that. Which I guess he doesn't understand."
Logan slipped his arm around her, drops of her blood still smeared on his skin. "I'm sorry, Max." There was something familiar about what she said, something from the recesses of his childhood… He'd heard that once somewhere, about a woman loving a man as her brother… Suddenly, he began to laugh.
Max lifted her head from his chest, looking at him suspiciously. "What's so funny?"
"Han and Leia," Logan chuckled. "Zack is Luke, and you're Leia, and…" Seeing the blank look on her face, he left it there. Maybe Star Wars wasn't considered strategic enough to be included in the Manticore curriculum… He untangled himself from her gently. "Max, on my dresser, there's a box…"
Still giving him a dirty look, Max sat up with feline grace, grabbing the small wooden box off his dresser. Instead of sitting with her arms crossed, glaring at him, she actually laid back down in the same spot next to him. She gave him an expectantly look. "Well?"
Logan opened the box, taking out a small velvet packet. "I told you this was my mother's, right?" From the blue velvet bag, he took out the gold locket that Max had filched from his aunt. The golden locket glittered in the light. "Since this is a little delicate for my taste…" He held it out to her, knowing that it was the right thing to do. "I want you to have it."
Max's immediate response would have been almost funny in any other situation. She reached out for it, just like any other woman might have. The locket seemed even more delicate in her strong hand. She looked from the locket back to Logan, as if she were speechless.
"It's kind of feminine for me to wear," Logan said lightly, taking it out of her hands and opening the clasp. With one hand, he quickly lifted her hair above her neck so that he could fasten the clasp. He tried to ignore the spark he felt as his fingers accidentally brushed against her barcode. "So I figured that since you got it back for me, you might as well have it."
Max picked the locket up gently, studying it with an odd expression on her face. "Logan, I can't," she protested, reaching up to unfasten it from her neck. "It belonged to your mom, and-"
He touched her lips with one finger. Max didn't know the real reason why he gave it to her--not yet. She didn't need to know that his mother had told him to give the locket to the woman he loved on the day that she gave him a precious gift, just as his father had given it to her. And Logan couldn't think of a better gift than life.
"So we're a squadron, huh?" He rolled over to face her, bringing their bodies so close that he could feel the heat of her skin against his own.
Her dark eyes met his sleepily as she smiled at him, her exhaustion finally catching up with her. "Two people, brought together by chance, embarking on the greatest journey of their lives," she quoted with a yawn. It touched him, that she was relaxed enough in his presence to let herself fall asleep. "We're us. We go where the road takes us."
Logan leaned in until his face was inches from her own. "And where will it take is?" His voice was husky.
Max opened one brown eye and gave him what could only be called an impish grin. Her lips touched his lightly. "We'll just have to wait and see."
Before he slept, Logan looked at the woman who shared his bed, the moonlight reflecting softly on the locket that hung at her neck. Whatever time he had with Max Guevara, Logan knew that it would be worth it, whatever the price.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Some mornings I wake up and wonder if I made the right decision, staying in Seattle. Giving up the only family I had for a life that risks everything…it's more than not being invited to Manticore reunion. It's more than Zack not trusting me. It's more than losing them: Zack, Tinga, Jondy, Brin-the only family I've ever known.
I'll never stop being a soldier, but there are parts of my life that I want to let go of. I want to grow up, past everything Manticore did to me. I want what I was denied, even though I'm not completely human.
This morning, I don't regret my choice. I'll take this life, and follow it where it takes me-at least, for a little while. Logan needs me, and a part of me needs him. And that will be enough.
But I'll have to thank Bling and my boo…one of these days.
~*The End.~*
By Kara (AnyaLindir@aol.com mailto:AnyaLindir@aol.com)
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up through "Kidz"
Disclaimer: This is so not mine, but I can pretend
A/N: Takes place right at the end of "Kidz," as if Max walked in on Bling and Cindy after getting back from the Space Needle. Oh, and I realize the medical science is sketchy at best… I was an English major, so blame me for all inaccuracies. g
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I should've known that Bling would go talk to my boo. He doesn't just look out for Logan anymore. Sometimes he gives me that same protective look. Original Cindy and I don't play for the same team, she's always got my back. Lesbian or not, my boo's the original hopeless romantic. And for some reason, Original Cindy picked my hopeless romance to get interested in.
I guess it's not totally hopeless. When Logan was up on his feet, I actually let myself think about it sometimes. I never said the L word or anything-even in my mind, but sometimes…sometimes I maybe thought about it. Just like sometimes I maybe thought about that dream I had with Logan, when we danced…
He's Logan. He's my partner, and my friend. I'm the legs of Eyes Only, since his aren't working too well just yet. He needs me. And sometimes, I need him.
So when I walked in on Bling and Original Cindy after clearing my head at the Needle, I was surprised. Not too surprised, though. When I saw Bling, I knew something was wrong, just because I didn't think he was the kinda fella to make a social call on my boo. Not that Original Cindy isn't a looker. She just isn't looking for someone like Bling…
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Logan stared out the window at the rain. When he was younger, he used to love the way Seattle looked under water, as if it were the mythical Atlantis, lost under the sea. Now, the rain that fell often as not was hazardous, carrying with it the aftereffects of the acid rain prevalent in the 20th century, and it only made the city look like more and more of an economic wasteland. But when he wanted to be morose and bitter, it was the perfect backdrop for his self-pity.
His legs weren't working anymore. Whatever nerve regrowth Max's blood had started was dwindling, and the new synapses were too weak to fully function on their own. Ironically enough, it was the very weaknesses in Max's own blood that undid him. For her, the faulty genetic code came out in seizures. For him, the renegade DNA said that, unless he gets a new supply of genetically engineered blood as often as is healthy, the nerves won't renew themselves, and the neural pathways will grow stagnant again. Logan hadn't resigned himself to the chair yet, but the metal wheelchair in the corner seemed to mock him more and more with each passing hour.
When the door opened, Logan automatically assumed it was Bling, coming back from whatever errand had taken him away. One look at Logan on the kitchen floor, punching the wall, had been telling enough. Logan's mouth tightened, as it always did when he showed his weakness to someone else. At least Bling hadn't shown any pity towards him--never had.
The footsteps in the foyer were lighter than Bling's. They sounded almost like the soft padding of a cat, or a genetically engineered ninja in black leather. Before she even spoke, Logan knew what Bling had done. He told Max.
A dark head came into his sight, blocking his view of the window. Logan tried to turn his head away, but the delicate olive-skinned face always followed him. "Why didn't you tell me?" The voice was matter-of-fact, emotionless. The voice of the perfect soldier.
Logan met Max's dark eyes, almost afraid of what he'd find there. He'd expected pity, even from the woman who'd never shown him an ounce of pity before. But what he found was…astonishing.
Her face was the carefully-schooled look that Manticore had taught her to turn to the world. Her eyes…there were tears in her brown eyes. Logan had never seen Max cry before, not when Zack left the first time, not when she'd told him about meeting Hannah, and what she'd learned about her mother. But this…the tears that ran down her smooth cheeks…this was something Logan hadn't thought possible.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked again, in the same blank voice.
The question was simple, the answer a little more complex. Why didn't he tell her? The same reason why Logan never told Max about Daphne, or Valerie. Why Max never knew about his mother's locket. Because Logan Robert Cale II had always been a failure to his family, to the women he loved, to the world he couldn't save.
"Because I couldn't," he said finally, trying to break away fro her dark eyes. "Because I…" Because she was Max, his own Stygian angel with a tarnished halo. Because she was this beautiful, vibrant woman that he couldn't imagine his life without. Because he was a failure, and a cripple, and he loved her.
Max's eyes dropped, almost as if she could hear his thoughts. Her hand reached out to his bare feet, propped up on the ottoman. One finger ran itself lightly over the bottom of his foot, and he twitched. Logan definitely felt that whisper-touch. Other uncontrollable parts of his body felt it too, and his face heated briefly.
"Did you see a doctor?" Max wouldn't meet his eyes, staring instead out at Seattle like some sort of dark sentinel.
"I called him." Logan watched Max's brown fingers run up and down his foot. "He said that the nerves have stopped regenerating." The doctor had said a few other things, but Max didn't need to hear about those. If Max didn't know, then she still had hope, and as long as she still believed…
He felt a dip in the couch cushion as Max sat down beside him. She'd moved his legs so fast that he almost didn't feel it until she laid his feet in her lap. Logan looked at her, almost afraid of what she might say next. There was something about the determined look on her face, still wet with tears. It was the same face she'd given him when he confronted her about the implant that had almost killed her. The look that said, you won't be able to change my mind, because I can still kick your ass.
"Do you still have the catheters and the tubing?"
Logan stared at her. "What?"
Max rolled her eyes. "The tubing and shit. Remember? From the last time." But the derision in her voice wasn't as sharp as usual.
"In the bathroom under the sink, why?" Logan stared at her as she got to her feet. Then, to his surprise, she picked him up in her arms and carried him with ease towards the bedroom. "Not that I haven't imagined this, Max, but what are we doing?"
Max smiled nonchalantly as she dumped him on his bed. Looking over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom, he swore she winked at him. "We might as well be comfortable."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Logan looked at the drowsy woman beside him in bed. Only with Max would being in bed involve a blood transfusion, two needles, and some tubing. Being drained of blood was the only time that Max seemed to sleep-that, and when she was brought back from the dead.
He twitched his leg slightly, relieved to find that some of the muscles still responded. Small things like that were still a miracle-being able to stand upright in the shower, straightening tangled sheets out with his toes… Miracles were being able to feel anything, something he wouldn't take for granted anymore.
Somehow, his free hand fell to the short dark curls on the pillow beside his head. Max's sister Tinga wore her hair long. So had Brin. But Max… Max kept hers just long enough to cover the brand on the back of her neck. Looking at the soft curls, Logan couldn't help remembering how she'd worn her hair at Bennett's wedding, how all of her Manticore siblings had adapted to hiding the barcode. Max wore her hair long enough to hide her barcode, but not so long that she hid herself in it.
"Logan?" The body next to him stirred.
He smiled down at her. Most people looked like the children they used to be when they slept. Max had never been a child, but she did look like she could've been someone's baby sister at some point. She was softer now-still feral, but there was an ease about Max that Logan had never really seen before.
"Hey, Max." His fingers tangled themselves in her wiry curls before he could help it.
Her eyes looked down to their intertwined arms, the fragile tube between them still red with her blood. Logan's eyes followed her fingers as they deftly unhooked their arms free of the catheters. "Once a month should take care of restoring your nerve damage." Her mouth quirked. "Soon you might even be an honorary member of Manticore."
Logan blinked. "Once a month? You're willing to do this once a month, for me?" Because they'd never discussed their relationship or whatever it was, Logan was stunned surprised to hear words of commitment from Max. Especially something like this.
Max gave him one of her half-smiles as she laid back on the bed. "A life for a life," she answered lightly. "Blood for Tryptophan. I think it comes out even." Her face darkened slightly. "Zack always said that a good squadron takes care of its own."
Zack. Zack was a sore point. Logan hated to admit it to himself, but he'd loved the look of shock on the blonde's face when he saw Logan standing on his own. Petty as it was, it still gave his predatorial male heart a thrill that Max chose Seattle after going with her brother-the man that she'd risked her life for not once, but twice…
"Zack…" Logan tried not to look at Max. He knew she was still hurting after Zack disconnected the contact number. "Zack…"
A calloused hand turned his face towards Max. "I love him, Logan." Her brown eyes were frank, as if there was no other way to put it. And there wasn't. Zack was the one who had freed her from Manticore. Zack was the one who had always protected her. How could Logan, a cripple, even try to replace that?
But before his heart sank too far into despair, Max gave him another small smile. "He's my brother, Logan. We're family." Her face fell again. "And he can't ever be any more than that. Which I guess he doesn't understand."
Logan slipped his arm around her, drops of her blood still smeared on his skin. "I'm sorry, Max." There was something familiar about what she said, something from the recesses of his childhood… He'd heard that once somewhere, about a woman loving a man as her brother… Suddenly, he began to laugh.
Max lifted her head from his chest, looking at him suspiciously. "What's so funny?"
"Han and Leia," Logan chuckled. "Zack is Luke, and you're Leia, and…" Seeing the blank look on her face, he left it there. Maybe Star Wars wasn't considered strategic enough to be included in the Manticore curriculum… He untangled himself from her gently. "Max, on my dresser, there's a box…"
Still giving him a dirty look, Max sat up with feline grace, grabbing the small wooden box off his dresser. Instead of sitting with her arms crossed, glaring at him, she actually laid back down in the same spot next to him. She gave him an expectantly look. "Well?"
Logan opened the box, taking out a small velvet packet. "I told you this was my mother's, right?" From the blue velvet bag, he took out the gold locket that Max had filched from his aunt. The golden locket glittered in the light. "Since this is a little delicate for my taste…" He held it out to her, knowing that it was the right thing to do. "I want you to have it."
Max's immediate response would have been almost funny in any other situation. She reached out for it, just like any other woman might have. The locket seemed even more delicate in her strong hand. She looked from the locket back to Logan, as if she were speechless.
"It's kind of feminine for me to wear," Logan said lightly, taking it out of her hands and opening the clasp. With one hand, he quickly lifted her hair above her neck so that he could fasten the clasp. He tried to ignore the spark he felt as his fingers accidentally brushed against her barcode. "So I figured that since you got it back for me, you might as well have it."
Max picked the locket up gently, studying it with an odd expression on her face. "Logan, I can't," she protested, reaching up to unfasten it from her neck. "It belonged to your mom, and-"
He touched her lips with one finger. Max didn't know the real reason why he gave it to her--not yet. She didn't need to know that his mother had told him to give the locket to the woman he loved on the day that she gave him a precious gift, just as his father had given it to her. And Logan couldn't think of a better gift than life.
"So we're a squadron, huh?" He rolled over to face her, bringing their bodies so close that he could feel the heat of her skin against his own.
Her dark eyes met his sleepily as she smiled at him, her exhaustion finally catching up with her. "Two people, brought together by chance, embarking on the greatest journey of their lives," she quoted with a yawn. It touched him, that she was relaxed enough in his presence to let herself fall asleep. "We're us. We go where the road takes us."
Logan leaned in until his face was inches from her own. "And where will it take is?" His voice was husky.
Max opened one brown eye and gave him what could only be called an impish grin. Her lips touched his lightly. "We'll just have to wait and see."
Before he slept, Logan looked at the woman who shared his bed, the moonlight reflecting softly on the locket that hung at her neck. Whatever time he had with Max Guevara, Logan knew that it would be worth it, whatever the price.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Some mornings I wake up and wonder if I made the right decision, staying in Seattle. Giving up the only family I had for a life that risks everything…it's more than not being invited to Manticore reunion. It's more than Zack not trusting me. It's more than losing them: Zack, Tinga, Jondy, Brin-the only family I've ever known.
I'll never stop being a soldier, but there are parts of my life that I want to let go of. I want to grow up, past everything Manticore did to me. I want what I was denied, even though I'm not completely human.
This morning, I don't regret my choice. I'll take this life, and follow it where it takes me-at least, for a little while. Logan needs me, and a part of me needs him. And that will be enough.
But I'll have to thank Bling and my boo…one of these days.
~*The End.~*