Title: Shift of Consciousness
Author: MekaShell
Rating: PG, for one bad word
Spoilers: Blah Blah, Woof Woof
Summary: Zack does some thinking on his way back to Seattle.
Disclaimer: I don't own Max, I don't own Logan, and I don't own Zack. Blah blah, woof woof.
I'm starting to think I've lost my mind. Or maybe Max is just getting to me. All I know is, twenty-four hours ago I wouldn't have even thought about doing what I'm about to do. Maybe I really have gone crazy.
I've tried to convince myself that I don't owe her anything more. She's the one who ignored procedure and returned to the battlefield. I even tried to keep her at the cabin myself, but she was determined to go to him. What am I saying? I could have stopped her -- I'm stronger and faster than she'll ever be -- but for some reason, I held back and let her whip my ass. I think I finally realized exactly why she never left Seattle.
Something happened to me in that cabin. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was the look I saw in her eyes when she told me she was going back. Whatever it was, it turned my mind upside down. All of a sudden, procedure wasn't the most important thing in the world. The only thing I could think about was making that haunted look in her eyes disappear.
Now I understand why, even knowing that Lydecker has her picture stapled up on every street corner, she went back.
She was never like any of the rest of us, even when we were still at Manticore. Max was always her own. She knew what was waiting for her here in Seattle, but she came back anyway. Now I know it was because without him, she would have no excuse not to run away. And even though I know I shouldn't be doing this, my irrational actions are justified by one simple truth: Max won't have to run anymore. And maybe, just maybe, that haunted look that is rooted in her soul will disappear.
I'm at the building now. Military officers and policemen eyeball me as I walk inside and look for the man I need to talk to.
"My name is Zack," I say. "I'd like to confess to a crime."
A thought pops into my head as the cop leads me down a hallway into an interrogation room. If life were a game of poker, Max would be a whole hand of wild cards.
I guess that makes me the suicide king.