Disclaimer: You know, you know... I don't own Dark Angel... I'm not trying to break any rules... Please don't sue me!
POV
Lydecker
Lydecker sat in a pitch-black room, bottle in hand. In his sluggish mind, he was replaying everything that had ever happened to him.
He flashed back to his childhood with a strict father who had run his home like the military. His mother had died when he was very young and he only knew the command of his father. As soon as he graduated from high school, he had joined up. He had been married shortly after.
He smiled at the image of his wife. She had been---faultless. He remembered how hard he had worked for her. To keep her happy. Also to prove to his father how tough he was. He did everything in his power to get to the top. And he did.
But then, his wife was gone. The thing that held him up was gone. And then he fell. Hard. It didn't matter anymore if he was at the top. If she wasn't there, what was there to work for? He had started drinking and his military career had gone down the toilet.
Finally, he had woken up one morning on the floor and swore never to touch another drop of booze again. He looked wearily at the bottle of scotch in his hand and shrugged. So much for that promise. He took another gulp and savoured the sting and then numbness that followed.
All of everything in ruins around him, he started again from the bottom. It hadn't taken him very long to work his way up again though. He had a new edge and with his good past behind him, he impressed not only his superiors, but other factions of the government as well. Two years later, he was heading up Manticore. Soon, he had X-1's, X-2's, X-3's, X-4's and X-5's on the way.
A couple of them hadn't worked out. The X-3's and X-4's had been mediocre, but the X-5's---they had been almost perfect. They were smart, fast and scared to do anything else. Accept for brain twist-up with seretonin, they were perfect.
He remembered the women he had rounded up to be the wombs for his "children." One in particular---Max's mother---had reminded him of his wife. He had injected her with the bit of DNA he still had of his wives when she undergoing her "treatments." The woman had had such hair. Shimmering, really. And her eyes. So much like... He stopped cold. Max. But she was dead. He shook his head and tried to erase the image of her from his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't go away.
He had always cared more for Max than for any of the other kids. She had always had that light in her eyes that the others lacked. She had a different style---less fear almost. But he knew she was one of the few who was truly scared all of the time. She knew the way they lived wasn't right, but she never argued it until they ran away.
After the twelve had escaped, he had helped develop the X-6's and X-7's. He had modelled them both after the X-5's. They looked, talked and acted the same---but thought only of what was best or Manticore. The hive minds he was so proud of.
He had always searched for the runaways. Finally, after ten years of searching and one more escape---he had found Zach. Finding Zach meant finding all the others. Max.
Finding them had cost the most trouble he had ever had to face, however. After numerous attempts to recapture them, he had only caught Brin and "let" Zach escape again. The committee was furious.
A few months later, he had Renfro on his ass with almost no chance of being saved again. He had let the X-5's escape in the first place, he had failed to recapture all of them and he had murdered Agent Sandoval.
Then, he had managed to get Max. He took her to that dingy motel and bought that bottle of rum. It had been a sweet welcome back to alcohol. But he had always liked scotch better. He took another gulp.
The past few days had been a nightmare. Something that had made all his past troubles seem simple and easy to deal with by comparison. He had known the risk going in---they all did. He hadn't imagined the reaches of how far Renfro was willing to go to. He hadn't known how difficult it would be to press the button for the DNA lab. And ha had never expected the pain to be so great when he realised exactly what had happened to Max.
Once he had returned to Seattle, he had bought half-a-dozen bottles of scotch and rented a motel room. He had gone a couple more times for booze, but otherwise, hadn't left. He hadn't done anything but relive that night over and over again---and think of all the mistakes he had made---and then drink until he passed out.
Sometimes, he would cry. Sometimes, he would pray. Sometimes all he did was stare at the wall. No matter what he did though, nothing could make him forget the pain.
A/N: Yeah... If you think that's awful, please say so... Nobody's done a POV of Lydecker, I don't think, so I thought someone should. Besides, I was sick of everyone making Logan the drunk, heart-broken one. Please R&R!!! Thanks so much! -Emily
POV
Lydecker
Lydecker sat in a pitch-black room, bottle in hand. In his sluggish mind, he was replaying everything that had ever happened to him.
He flashed back to his childhood with a strict father who had run his home like the military. His mother had died when he was very young and he only knew the command of his father. As soon as he graduated from high school, he had joined up. He had been married shortly after.
He smiled at the image of his wife. She had been---faultless. He remembered how hard he had worked for her. To keep her happy. Also to prove to his father how tough he was. He did everything in his power to get to the top. And he did.
But then, his wife was gone. The thing that held him up was gone. And then he fell. Hard. It didn't matter anymore if he was at the top. If she wasn't there, what was there to work for? He had started drinking and his military career had gone down the toilet.
Finally, he had woken up one morning on the floor and swore never to touch another drop of booze again. He looked wearily at the bottle of scotch in his hand and shrugged. So much for that promise. He took another gulp and savoured the sting and then numbness that followed.
All of everything in ruins around him, he started again from the bottom. It hadn't taken him very long to work his way up again though. He had a new edge and with his good past behind him, he impressed not only his superiors, but other factions of the government as well. Two years later, he was heading up Manticore. Soon, he had X-1's, X-2's, X-3's, X-4's and X-5's on the way.
A couple of them hadn't worked out. The X-3's and X-4's had been mediocre, but the X-5's---they had been almost perfect. They were smart, fast and scared to do anything else. Accept for brain twist-up with seretonin, they were perfect.
He remembered the women he had rounded up to be the wombs for his "children." One in particular---Max's mother---had reminded him of his wife. He had injected her with the bit of DNA he still had of his wives when she undergoing her "treatments." The woman had had such hair. Shimmering, really. And her eyes. So much like... He stopped cold. Max. But she was dead. He shook his head and tried to erase the image of her from his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn't go away.
He had always cared more for Max than for any of the other kids. She had always had that light in her eyes that the others lacked. She had a different style---less fear almost. But he knew she was one of the few who was truly scared all of the time. She knew the way they lived wasn't right, but she never argued it until they ran away.
After the twelve had escaped, he had helped develop the X-6's and X-7's. He had modelled them both after the X-5's. They looked, talked and acted the same---but thought only of what was best or Manticore. The hive minds he was so proud of.
He had always searched for the runaways. Finally, after ten years of searching and one more escape---he had found Zach. Finding Zach meant finding all the others. Max.
Finding them had cost the most trouble he had ever had to face, however. After numerous attempts to recapture them, he had only caught Brin and "let" Zach escape again. The committee was furious.
A few months later, he had Renfro on his ass with almost no chance of being saved again. He had let the X-5's escape in the first place, he had failed to recapture all of them and he had murdered Agent Sandoval.
Then, he had managed to get Max. He took her to that dingy motel and bought that bottle of rum. It had been a sweet welcome back to alcohol. But he had always liked scotch better. He took another gulp.
The past few days had been a nightmare. Something that had made all his past troubles seem simple and easy to deal with by comparison. He had known the risk going in---they all did. He hadn't imagined the reaches of how far Renfro was willing to go to. He hadn't known how difficult it would be to press the button for the DNA lab. And ha had never expected the pain to be so great when he realised exactly what had happened to Max.
Once he had returned to Seattle, he had bought half-a-dozen bottles of scotch and rented a motel room. He had gone a couple more times for booze, but otherwise, hadn't left. He hadn't done anything but relive that night over and over again---and think of all the mistakes he had made---and then drink until he passed out.
Sometimes, he would cry. Sometimes, he would pray. Sometimes all he did was stare at the wall. No matter what he did though, nothing could make him forget the pain.
A/N: Yeah... If you think that's awful, please say so... Nobody's done a POV of Lydecker, I don't think, so I thought someone should. Besides, I was sick of everyone making Logan the drunk, heart-broken one. Please R&R!!! Thanks so much! -Emily