Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: No $
A/N: You all wouldn't even believe the day I had (suffice it to say that I spent some time at the hospital getting my chin sewn back up) so put up with me if this is a little...weary.
A/N #2: Sorry Ana, maybe sucked was the wrong word to use at the end of the last part. I more meant that it didn't turn out how I had originally envisioned it. Better?
Restless
Part 2: Logan
The midnight sky towered above Logan Cale's window. He sat on the honey colored hardwood floor of his penthouse gazing up at it, momentarily lost in the endless black. Often unable to sleep, he found himself in this position often; only this time, it was different. He wasn't sitting in a wheelchair, a numb ache running through his lower half. No, this time he could feel his feet and wiggle his toes.
Absentmindedly, he gripped his chilled feet in his hands to warm them. It was a good feeling, the cold. He was thankful that he could once again feel the cold bite of a hardwood floor on bare feet. He was thankful that he could rise up to eye level with people once again, no longer needing to bear their downcast eyes filled with pity.
Logan hated all pity but his own. He was known to wallow in his own self-defeat, reviewing unchangeable events in his mind and searching for some thread that could have changed everything.
Still, even with the ability to stand, he couldn't find sleep. True enough, his abilities were more incomplete than he let on, and he suffered more than a few relapses per day. Yet, there was a certain amount of joy in being able to feel again.
He wanted more though, wanted immediate gratification of his wishes. Logan wanted to jump up off the floor and dance, to run along the coast screaming at the top of his lungs. That wasn't possible, nor were many of the other dreams he entertained.
Eyes Only had become the center of his universe and had stayed there for so long that he hardly noticed the ways it effected other aspects of his life. Only weeks ago, however, that wouldn't have mattered to him. Eyes Only had been everything because it was the one thing that he could have, could really control. He wanted Max, wanted her with all of his heart, but he knew that he couldn't have her.
Max was...well, different. There were parts of her that still hadn't moved on past Manticore -- parts of her that still violently innocent. Strange words to put together, violence and innocence, but they seemed to aptly describe Max. She was very much a child inside, hardly even an adult in years. Logan though, he'd had much more time than her.
So, she ran from him, from what was so obviously occurring between them. Bling saw it, Original Cindy saw it...hell, everyone could see it except them. Logan hadn't really been able to see it for a long time, not until he'd gotten out of his chair. Maybe it was the higher vantage point, but the moment he rose up in front of her the dangerous ties between them came clearly into focus. If Max was aware of them, she obviously didn't plan to do anything about it.
The great, all-powerful Eyes Only...done in by a bullet and a woman's smile. Max was beautiful when she smiled, especially when it was genuine and not sarcastic. She didn't smile enough, at least, not around him.
Eyes Only...that stirred up mixed feelings. It was his life, his very identity, but there were parts of that identity that he wished to rid himself of. The stress of his job, being up all night trying desperately to achieve the most unattainable goal was tiresome. He wanted to save the world, somehow change everything for the better. However, his attempts won him nothing but a good night's rest. Presently, that reward evaded him.
A low sigh rumbling from his chest, he closed his eyes and slowly rocked back and forth, attempting to bring a pleasant thought about that would distract him from his darker broodings. Naturally, the image was Max. However, even she produced extra stress in his life. He was mixed up with Manticore now, and he'd made a very powerful enemy. It was bad enough Max had to be on the run, but Eyes Only as well? He wasn't quite as good at evading his enemies as she was -- obviously.
Logan didn't want Max to get hurt because of him. If somehow Manticore were to come after him, and she -- though some odd sense of obligation -- got in the way, they would have her. He didn't know that he could have her death on his conscience. There was a difference between being the one sitting by the trap to warn her and being the one within the trap asking for help.
Opening his eyes, Logan looked back up at the sky. It was cold and empty, even when filled with stars. There was a sense about the sky at midnight that the stars, while embedded in the velvet fabric of the universe, were at free reign to do whatever they pleased. It was much like Max's influence in his life. She was an integral part of everything him -- he just wouldn't be the same Logan Cale without her -- and yet she didn't really need him and was only held in place by his grasp.
At a restless midnight, everything had changed but somehow remained the same. Logan wanted to move fast, to rush in and sweep her off her feet, but that wasn't anything he could do with Max. Held back and frustrated, Logan hid from her as she did from him. He hid his weakness, then worried in private that it would lead to her downfall. He hid his feelings, then struggled to let go of them at night.
Frustrated, disturbed, and decidedly confused, Logan rose up on shaky legs to find his way back to bed. He'd give sleep one more chance for the night, try and find some pleasant dream ferreted away in the back of his mind.
Restless and weary, he searched for peace.