"The Gift of Darkness"
by pari106
pari106@hotmail.com
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/damain.html
Code: M/L
Rating: PG-13 for language
Chapter Two: A discovery is made.
Chapter Two
Everything that happened after Max laid eyes on Logan, happened in a blur for her. Zack and Bling helped
her drag him into the penthouse and into his bedroom, dropping him on the bed there. And then Max did
everything she could to help Bling, who immediately went to assessing Logan's injuries.
Logan's shirt was bloodstained just as it had been when Max had last seen him, but he had no head injury.
He did, however, have a number of gunshot wounds: one in his right shoulder and one in his left thigh.
They were clean shots so Bling had only to sterilize and bandage the wounds. Then he tried to clean Logan
up a little and changed his clothes. Max was there throughout it all, trying to avert her eyes at the
appropriate times and wincing every time she glanced at his bandages. She wanted to revel in her hatred
for Manticore, but couldn't quite put her heart in it just yet. She was still too relieved to have Logan back.
During this entire time Logan remained unconscious, and after Bling had done all he could he went into the
other room. Max was vaguely aware of his arguing with Zack over something – probably about whether or
not they should call a doctor. She wasn't in it. All she wanted was a few moments alone with Logan to
regain her composure and to reassure herself that he was really back.
Max felt like laughing. It really was pathetic. And suddenly giddy with relief, Max' silent laughter at
herself soon turned into full giggles. She laughed so hard her eyes teared and her shoulders shook. She
laughed until she was afraid she was going to start bawling and had to stop.
'Damn, girl, but you're a mess,' she thought. And she was. All the years she'd tried to be the big and
tough X5 that she was, and now here she was, reduced to sobs and giggles by one little human who
couldn't even walk, for crying out loud.
Max sighed. He was such a cute little human, though. And smart. And funny and honest and sexy and
brave. And strong and, not to mention, sexy… Max sat there, holding Logan's hand, noticing for maybe
the first time how good his hands felt, and staring at his face. She thought about all of the things she loved
about him, about which of his features she liked best – like his chin or the way he smiled. His lips. She
thought about their kisses and how long it had taken her to realize she was in love with him. Thought about
how easily it could have all been over with, and how she'd never even had the chance to tell him how she
felt.
And without realizing what she was doing, Max began running her fingers down the side of Logan's face.
She'd never gotten the chance to touch him like that before. Nor had she ever run her fingers through his
hair – she did that now, too. There was so much they'd left undone, she thought. And, lost in her thoughts,
Max carried on like this. She found herself staring at Logan's closed eyes and at his long lashes. His eyes
were her favorite feature, she decided. So blue.
She liked them so much, in fact, that it took her a moment to realize she wasn't just picturing them in her
mind, but that they were actually open now. Logan was awake and staring straight at her.
"Oh!" She was so startled she jumped.
"Oh, yourself," Logan mumbled back, his voice heavy and thick. He still seemed groggy, but his eyes were
alert and he tried to smile. His smile. His eyes. Max realized how she must have looked, sitting there
staring at him, and she realized she was probably grinning now, ear to ear, like an idiot. And she still had
enough to sense to feel wary about this. But she was too tired of hiding her feelings, and facing the
possible consequences, to backtrack now. She just smiled back, and didn't even let go of his hand.
"Hi," she tried again, surprising and pleasing Logan simultaneously. It was hard for him to focus, however.
He was still felt so disoriented. At the back of his mind questions gathered, but he was too tired to ponder
them.
"Hi," he said back. It was all he could manage before unconsciousness overcame him again. But it was
enough to reassure Max. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and, suddenly
exhausted, Max began to doze off, as well. Still holding Logan's hand, she lay her head down next to him
on the bed and slept.
**** ****
That's how Zack found her later – sitting in a chair next to Logan's bed, hunched over and holding his
hand. Only she'd shifted in her sleep, and now instead of lying on the bed, her head had somehow found
its way atop Logan's chest. It might have been an endearing sight. If Zack hadn't found it to be so
disturbing.
Zack stopped in the doorway, momentarily immobilized. And he felt every reason he'd ever had to hate
Logan Cale come creeping into his system to boil his blood. It took him a moment to shake these feelings
away; to shake away the domestic scene before him. But with a little effort, he did. And, more for the
purpose of giving himself something to do than anything, Zack crossed the room and opened the blinds.
Making a lot of noise in the process.
As he'd hoped, the noise itself was enough to wake Max up.
"Have a nice nap, sis?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound a little less accusing than it might have
been otherwise.
Max struggled back to the land of the living with a little difficulty. She rubbed her eyes, trying to regain
her bearings. Where…what…then the events of the last night rushed back at her. Her relief igniting anew,
she glanced down and over at Logan, happily. Then she noticed their hands, still linked. Had Zack seen…
Hastily, Max removed her hand, pretending to stretch, more out of embarrassment than anything. Zack had
always seemed disgusted with her relationship with Logan. Even when she hadn't realized there was a
relationship. Of course, Zack was pretty disgusted by any relationship. A real romantic, Zack was. Max
had always disagreed, so she didn't know why she cared what he thought about her holding Logan's hand.
What was it to him, anyhow? Still, she found herself distancing herself from the bed.
Zack rolled his eyes when Max couldn't see him.
"What time is it?" Max asked.
And Zack motioned backwards out the window. "Almost morning. Guess you got your few hours of sleep
for the night."
"I guess so. Where's Bling?"
"Out to meet some doctor friend of his."
Max had walked over from the bed to stand by the window now, and Zack was only a step away from her.
And he suddenly found himself staring down at the top of her head, unable to look away. For the
thousandth time since he'd met the man, Zack wondered what the hell Cale had ever done to hold such
power over Max. Why was it his bed she woke up by, all drowsy and sexy and cute? He stared at the dark
ringlets around her face, the dark eyes and pouty lips. Then he turned away, hating the way his hands
itched to reach out and touch her.
What the hell did he care if Max chose to waste her time on Mr. rebel with a cause? He was just her big
brother, not her keeper. She could wake up by whatever bed she wanted to. And why did his reaction to
that thought seem anything but brotherly?
As always, Zack felt confused and frustrated around Max. And, as always, that confusion and frustration
manifested itself into an anger that Zack had to struggle to subdue.
"Who's the doctor?" Max was asking, bringing Zack out of his reverie. He felt like he'd been standing
there, staring at her for hours, but it had only been seconds.
"I don't know," he said. "Some 'connection' of Eyes Only. Bling wanted to bring in some local doctor,
but I talked him out of it. We don't know which of Logan's informants Lydecker's clued in on, if any.
And we can't bring in somebody new. Damn, what the hell is the matter with these people? Do they have
to make everybody they know a target for Manticore?"
Max shrugged. "He needs a doctor, Zack."
"Yeah, well, he's getting one. If he's waited this long he can wait a little longer." Zack said the words
casually, but despite himself he was beginning to feel guilty. Perhaps he should have let Bling call that
local guy. It had been hours now since they'd contacted the other doctor, and it could be another hour or so
before he made it to Seattle. Cale looked better now that Bling had cleaned him up, but that didn't mean he
was okay. Zack still had nightmares about what they'd done to him the last time he was at Manticore, and
he hated to think what an experience like that would do to an ordinary human. Despite his differences with
Logan, he didn't wish that on the guy. And he found himself feeling a reluctant admiration and sympathy
for his rival.
"Listen," Zack began, not believing he was saying this, but feeling oddly compelled to do so. "Maybe I
was wrong. About Cale," he told Max. And that "Oh really?" look her raised eyebrow sent him was
enough to make him grimace, but he didn't back down. It did, however, prompt him to rephrase what he
was about to say.
"Maybe he's not as big a wuss as I thought he was."
Max snorted, and her comment made Zack smile. "I didn't think that was the word you used to describe
Logan."
"Well, there's several words I'd use to describe wonderboy, but for the sake of propriety I won't mention
them in front of a lady."
Max snorted again, and Zack continued, but with sincerity this time. Hell, this wasn't comfortable for him
to say. And the only reason he was saying it, he told himself, was because he felt bad for talking Bling out
of calling his physician. Why stall any longer?
"Look, I'm just saying that he made it out of Manticore alright; held his own. Anyone who can do that…"
Max was just looking at him, waiting for him to finish. But with those big brown eyes staring up at him,
Zack suddenly couldn't quite think of what else to say. Someone else, however, didn't seem to have that
problem.
"Thanks. I think," he said, and Zack and Max turned towards the bed as one.
"Logan!"
Logan struggled to focus his eyes and his mind as Max sat down in the chair next to him once again.
'Good,' he thought. So she really was here. He'd thought that he'd dreamed her, sitting there beside his
bed, looking so worried and…and whatever else it was that she had looked that had made his heart race.
But then, he hadn't thought Zack was around. Or maybe he really had been dreaming the whole thing.
Max, holding his hand, caressing his face, staring into his eyes? Yeah, right. 'Keep dreaming, Cale,' he
thought with a bit of disappointment. Then shook it off. 'She's here now, isn't she?'
"How 'ya feeling?" Max was asking.
Like a whole bunch of little X5s were having a wild orgy in his head – that's how he felt. Not that he could
say that.
"Like I had an unfortunate encounter with a freight train. Ow."
Logan winced, and returned his pounding head back to the pillow from which he'd tried to extract it. He
seemed to have misplaced his glasses, and now he wondered if his blurry vision could be attributed to their
absence, or if the pain in his temples was the culprit. The blood was rushing through his ears, but he still
managed to hear Zack's mocking laugh.
"You should have been so lucky," he was saying. "You're lucky Manticore didn't kill you. If it wasn't for
your friend, Critchlow, in there, they probably would have."
"Critchlow?" Logan looked up, his weary mind turning the familiar-sounding name over for inspection.
"Jack Critchlow?"
He had no idea what they were talking about. Max and Zack exchanged a look. And Max tried to fill him
in.
"Critchlow showed up here with you. We figure he helped you break out of Manticore."
"Manticore? Why…"
And then it came back to him. Up to that point, Logan's mind had been too clouded with exhaustion and
pain to remember anything, but now it did. He remembered…but only up until the moment that soldier had
gotten the better of him with a bump on the head in front of Sam's clinic. Manticore had had him. Jesus.
Then something else occurred to Logan. Max had said they "figured" Critchlow had helped him. Did that
mean…
"Jack. Is he…" But one look at his companions told him everything he needed to know. Logan swore.
"He was shot up pretty bad," Zack told him. "So were you, by the way."
The younger man motioned to Logan's bandages, and Logan reached up and touched one, not remembering
having been shot even once. Not feeling the wounds now. Not feeling much of anything, really. His limbs
felt weighted and numb, perhaps because of the painkillers Bling must have given him.
Max watched his confusion with concern. "You don't remember any of this?"
Logan shook his head, wincing again at the pain of movement, but trying to cover it. Damn, but he wished
Zack wasn't present. He hated being weak. Hated his paralysis, most of all, because it made him weak.
Hated being weak in front of Max. And Zack never helped matters any. Mr. super soldier. He'd gotten
shot in the kneecap last night and now he was perfectly fine. One bullet and Logan had been confined to a
wheelchair for life. And now, a few bullets later, he was stuck in bed like an invalid. 'Way to impress the
lady,' he thought, avoiding looking Max in the eyes.
"I remember some soldiers approaching me and Bling on the sidewalk," Logan said, then suddenly looked
up, concern marking his features. "Bling?" he asked. But Max just shook her head. "He's okay. He went
to get you a doctor."
Logan nodded, sighing in relief.
"What about after that?" Zack asked. "Anything?"
"Nothing."
"We were there," Max suddenly told him, causing him to look at her in surprise.
"I mean, we were in the area. We saw them come at you…"
"And mounted a daring rescue," he finished for her. "I take it that didn't work."
Max smiled. "'Fraid not."
And Logan sighed. "A full army escort just for me. Looks like Eyes Only just lost his anonymity."
"Looks like it," Max said. "Logan, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
Max didn't get a chance to answer that, as a voice from the doorway interrupted the conversation.
"Perhaps for having me dragged here this early in the bloody morning?" the man suggested, shuffling into
the room.
The voice was accented and Max couldn't believe who it was attached to. The man – or should she say
kid? He was almost younger than she was – had spiky blonde-orange hair and wore rose-tinted glasses
with rectangular frames. Beneath his long coat, he wore a black sweater and blue jeans whose hems had
been cut off at the bottom, just over the toes of his vintage doc martins.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked.
"The only doctor, within about a thousand mile radius, who won't turn your boyfriend, here, into the sector
police for whatever it was he did to get shot at. Am I right?" the young man asked, raising a brow at
Logan.
In the way of greetings, it wasn't his most charming. But being dragged to Seattle at one o'clock in the
morning, after having spent an entire night raving, did not for a happy doctor make. Besides, he was used
to being constantly harassed about his age and credentials. He'd learned that the best way to deal with his
patients doubts was to just ignore them and do his job. If he did it right, people figured it out on their own
that he was for real. If he didn't, people died. Either way, he wouldn't have to deal with any annoying
small talk.
Despite all that, Logan smiled. He'd been an upperclassman at the university when Russell Sean had
registered as a freshman. The only freshman that had ever been able to teach their biology teacher a thing
or two. He was a kid prodigy, and a wealthy man's grandson to boot – that hadn't made him very popular
with his peers, or Logan's. But Logan had never been much for the corrupt in-crowd, himself, and he'd
always liked Sean. And had always trusted his abilities – even if he had dropped out of med school before
he'd ever gotten his license. The classes had really just been window dressing, anyhow, and as Logan
knew, all too well, the wealthy didn't really need licenses or diplomas to set up shop. Russ no doubt had
been able to establish a state of the art lab in which to work without either one. And there was no doubt
that that lab and his abilities had been needed. After the pulse, it became extremely difficult for the
common person to get affordable, dependable medical care. Especially from someone who wouldn't tattle
to the government at the first chance they got. Since Russ' father had been killed working with a group of
underground oppositionists, that wasn't a concern. And since Logan had helped the younger man destroy
evidence of that fact, some years ago, in order to protect the doctor's life, Russ had always told him that he
owed him one. Now it looked like Bling had decided to call in that favor on Logan's behalf.
"Good to see you again, Russ," Logan told him, smiling, and for the first time, Sean smiled back.
"Good to be seen," he replied, glancing up at Max and Zack. "I take it neither of you were the ones who
shot him?"
Max bristled at the accusation, whether it was serious or not, but Zack actually smiled. "Unfortunately," he
said, making the doctor laugh.
"Russell Sean, this is Max and Zack. They're…friends of mine," Logan introduced, hesitating over what to
call them. He and Zack were hardly friends, and he and Max…Well, it was close enough. "Max and Zack,
this is Russ. We went to the same university."
"Great," Zack quipped. "Another rich kid with time to kill." It was a statement that Logan and Russ
pointedly ignored, though Max thew her brother a scathing look.
"So you're a doc, huh?" Max asked. She had a lot of questions rolling around in her mind about this guy
and about Logan. He didn't talk much about himself or his past, and she imagined it would have been
interesting to meet him in college. Before Eyes Only. But the questions could wait.
"I'm a doc," Russ said. "Sort of."
Then he turned to Logan before Max could ask him what he meant.
"Heard you took one for the cause, buddy," he said, beginning to unwind the bandages around Logan's
shoulder. He and Logan made a point of not delving into each other's business on the rare occasions that
they got to speak. Neither could be what the government would consider model citizens. But, Russ did
worry about his friend; Logan had become a sort of big-brother figure for him throughout the years they
studied on the same campus. And he'd always appreciate what he'd done for him that time after his
father's death. It was Logan's help that had kept him safe; had allowed him to continue practicing
medicine for those who really needed it. If it weren't for him, Russ might not have lived to meet the
woman he'd recently married. And now they had a daughter on the way.
And it was also why, despite his grumbling about the time and his jovial attitude, Russ took Bling's call
very seriously. He'd always wanted the chance to repay his friend. And he'd seen the vidcaps of that
"mysterious shoot-out in downtown Seattle". He'd recognized the faces of the men who those soldiers had
been shooting at. And he'd thought, then and there, that he'd lost his chance forever. It had really
disturbed him. Now, though, seeing Logan alive and conscious was an immense relief to Russell. And, as
the bandages fell away from Logan's shoulder, it was also a great shock.
"What the hell is this?" he suddenly mumbled, looking up from Logan's shoulder to Logan himself.
"What?" Logan couldn't see what the doctor was looking at, but his response immediately put him on
edge.
Instead of answering, however, Russ turned to Bling, who had just entered the room.
"Why did you tell me he'd been shot?" he demanded.
And, as Zack just looked on in confusion, Max came around the bed to face Sean head-on.
"Because he *has* been shot," she told him, angrily. What the hell kind of games was this kid playing?
And Russ was thinking the same thing about all of them.
"Oh, really?" he asked, not at all amused, as he pulled the bandages away from Logan's shoulder
altogether.
"Shot where?"
There was no wound anywhere to be seen on Logan's shoulder.
by pari106
pari106@hotmail.com
http://www.pari106.homestead.com/damain.html
Code: M/L
Rating: PG-13 for language
Chapter Two: A discovery is made.
Chapter Two
Everything that happened after Max laid eyes on Logan, happened in a blur for her. Zack and Bling helped
her drag him into the penthouse and into his bedroom, dropping him on the bed there. And then Max did
everything she could to help Bling, who immediately went to assessing Logan's injuries.
Logan's shirt was bloodstained just as it had been when Max had last seen him, but he had no head injury.
He did, however, have a number of gunshot wounds: one in his right shoulder and one in his left thigh.
They were clean shots so Bling had only to sterilize and bandage the wounds. Then he tried to clean Logan
up a little and changed his clothes. Max was there throughout it all, trying to avert her eyes at the
appropriate times and wincing every time she glanced at his bandages. She wanted to revel in her hatred
for Manticore, but couldn't quite put her heart in it just yet. She was still too relieved to have Logan back.
During this entire time Logan remained unconscious, and after Bling had done all he could he went into the
other room. Max was vaguely aware of his arguing with Zack over something – probably about whether or
not they should call a doctor. She wasn't in it. All she wanted was a few moments alone with Logan to
regain her composure and to reassure herself that he was really back.
Max felt like laughing. It really was pathetic. And suddenly giddy with relief, Max' silent laughter at
herself soon turned into full giggles. She laughed so hard her eyes teared and her shoulders shook. She
laughed until she was afraid she was going to start bawling and had to stop.
'Damn, girl, but you're a mess,' she thought. And she was. All the years she'd tried to be the big and
tough X5 that she was, and now here she was, reduced to sobs and giggles by one little human who
couldn't even walk, for crying out loud.
Max sighed. He was such a cute little human, though. And smart. And funny and honest and sexy and
brave. And strong and, not to mention, sexy… Max sat there, holding Logan's hand, noticing for maybe
the first time how good his hands felt, and staring at his face. She thought about all of the things she loved
about him, about which of his features she liked best – like his chin or the way he smiled. His lips. She
thought about their kisses and how long it had taken her to realize she was in love with him. Thought about
how easily it could have all been over with, and how she'd never even had the chance to tell him how she
felt.
And without realizing what she was doing, Max began running her fingers down the side of Logan's face.
She'd never gotten the chance to touch him like that before. Nor had she ever run her fingers through his
hair – she did that now, too. There was so much they'd left undone, she thought. And, lost in her thoughts,
Max carried on like this. She found herself staring at Logan's closed eyes and at his long lashes. His eyes
were her favorite feature, she decided. So blue.
She liked them so much, in fact, that it took her a moment to realize she wasn't just picturing them in her
mind, but that they were actually open now. Logan was awake and staring straight at her.
"Oh!" She was so startled she jumped.
"Oh, yourself," Logan mumbled back, his voice heavy and thick. He still seemed groggy, but his eyes were
alert and he tried to smile. His smile. His eyes. Max realized how she must have looked, sitting there
staring at him, and she realized she was probably grinning now, ear to ear, like an idiot. And she still had
enough to sense to feel wary about this. But she was too tired of hiding her feelings, and facing the
possible consequences, to backtrack now. She just smiled back, and didn't even let go of his hand.
"Hi," she tried again, surprising and pleasing Logan simultaneously. It was hard for him to focus, however.
He was still felt so disoriented. At the back of his mind questions gathered, but he was too tired to ponder
them.
"Hi," he said back. It was all he could manage before unconsciousness overcame him again. But it was
enough to reassure Max. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders and, suddenly
exhausted, Max began to doze off, as well. Still holding Logan's hand, she lay her head down next to him
on the bed and slept.
**** ****
That's how Zack found her later – sitting in a chair next to Logan's bed, hunched over and holding his
hand. Only she'd shifted in her sleep, and now instead of lying on the bed, her head had somehow found
its way atop Logan's chest. It might have been an endearing sight. If Zack hadn't found it to be so
disturbing.
Zack stopped in the doorway, momentarily immobilized. And he felt every reason he'd ever had to hate
Logan Cale come creeping into his system to boil his blood. It took him a moment to shake these feelings
away; to shake away the domestic scene before him. But with a little effort, he did. And, more for the
purpose of giving himself something to do than anything, Zack crossed the room and opened the blinds.
Making a lot of noise in the process.
As he'd hoped, the noise itself was enough to wake Max up.
"Have a nice nap, sis?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound a little less accusing than it might have
been otherwise.
Max struggled back to the land of the living with a little difficulty. She rubbed her eyes, trying to regain
her bearings. Where…what…then the events of the last night rushed back at her. Her relief igniting anew,
she glanced down and over at Logan, happily. Then she noticed their hands, still linked. Had Zack seen…
Hastily, Max removed her hand, pretending to stretch, more out of embarrassment than anything. Zack had
always seemed disgusted with her relationship with Logan. Even when she hadn't realized there was a
relationship. Of course, Zack was pretty disgusted by any relationship. A real romantic, Zack was. Max
had always disagreed, so she didn't know why she cared what he thought about her holding Logan's hand.
What was it to him, anyhow? Still, she found herself distancing herself from the bed.
Zack rolled his eyes when Max couldn't see him.
"What time is it?" Max asked.
And Zack motioned backwards out the window. "Almost morning. Guess you got your few hours of sleep
for the night."
"I guess so. Where's Bling?"
"Out to meet some doctor friend of his."
Max had walked over from the bed to stand by the window now, and Zack was only a step away from her.
And he suddenly found himself staring down at the top of her head, unable to look away. For the
thousandth time since he'd met the man, Zack wondered what the hell Cale had ever done to hold such
power over Max. Why was it his bed she woke up by, all drowsy and sexy and cute? He stared at the dark
ringlets around her face, the dark eyes and pouty lips. Then he turned away, hating the way his hands
itched to reach out and touch her.
What the hell did he care if Max chose to waste her time on Mr. rebel with a cause? He was just her big
brother, not her keeper. She could wake up by whatever bed she wanted to. And why did his reaction to
that thought seem anything but brotherly?
As always, Zack felt confused and frustrated around Max. And, as always, that confusion and frustration
manifested itself into an anger that Zack had to struggle to subdue.
"Who's the doctor?" Max was asking, bringing Zack out of his reverie. He felt like he'd been standing
there, staring at her for hours, but it had only been seconds.
"I don't know," he said. "Some 'connection' of Eyes Only. Bling wanted to bring in some local doctor,
but I talked him out of it. We don't know which of Logan's informants Lydecker's clued in on, if any.
And we can't bring in somebody new. Damn, what the hell is the matter with these people? Do they have
to make everybody they know a target for Manticore?"
Max shrugged. "He needs a doctor, Zack."
"Yeah, well, he's getting one. If he's waited this long he can wait a little longer." Zack said the words
casually, but despite himself he was beginning to feel guilty. Perhaps he should have let Bling call that
local guy. It had been hours now since they'd contacted the other doctor, and it could be another hour or so
before he made it to Seattle. Cale looked better now that Bling had cleaned him up, but that didn't mean he
was okay. Zack still had nightmares about what they'd done to him the last time he was at Manticore, and
he hated to think what an experience like that would do to an ordinary human. Despite his differences with
Logan, he didn't wish that on the guy. And he found himself feeling a reluctant admiration and sympathy
for his rival.
"Listen," Zack began, not believing he was saying this, but feeling oddly compelled to do so. "Maybe I
was wrong. About Cale," he told Max. And that "Oh really?" look her raised eyebrow sent him was
enough to make him grimace, but he didn't back down. It did, however, prompt him to rephrase what he
was about to say.
"Maybe he's not as big a wuss as I thought he was."
Max snorted, and her comment made Zack smile. "I didn't think that was the word you used to describe
Logan."
"Well, there's several words I'd use to describe wonderboy, but for the sake of propriety I won't mention
them in front of a lady."
Max snorted again, and Zack continued, but with sincerity this time. Hell, this wasn't comfortable for him
to say. And the only reason he was saying it, he told himself, was because he felt bad for talking Bling out
of calling his physician. Why stall any longer?
"Look, I'm just saying that he made it out of Manticore alright; held his own. Anyone who can do that…"
Max was just looking at him, waiting for him to finish. But with those big brown eyes staring up at him,
Zack suddenly couldn't quite think of what else to say. Someone else, however, didn't seem to have that
problem.
"Thanks. I think," he said, and Zack and Max turned towards the bed as one.
"Logan!"
Logan struggled to focus his eyes and his mind as Max sat down in the chair next to him once again.
'Good,' he thought. So she really was here. He'd thought that he'd dreamed her, sitting there beside his
bed, looking so worried and…and whatever else it was that she had looked that had made his heart race.
But then, he hadn't thought Zack was around. Or maybe he really had been dreaming the whole thing.
Max, holding his hand, caressing his face, staring into his eyes? Yeah, right. 'Keep dreaming, Cale,' he
thought with a bit of disappointment. Then shook it off. 'She's here now, isn't she?'
"How 'ya feeling?" Max was asking.
Like a whole bunch of little X5s were having a wild orgy in his head – that's how he felt. Not that he could
say that.
"Like I had an unfortunate encounter with a freight train. Ow."
Logan winced, and returned his pounding head back to the pillow from which he'd tried to extract it. He
seemed to have misplaced his glasses, and now he wondered if his blurry vision could be attributed to their
absence, or if the pain in his temples was the culprit. The blood was rushing through his ears, but he still
managed to hear Zack's mocking laugh.
"You should have been so lucky," he was saying. "You're lucky Manticore didn't kill you. If it wasn't for
your friend, Critchlow, in there, they probably would have."
"Critchlow?" Logan looked up, his weary mind turning the familiar-sounding name over for inspection.
"Jack Critchlow?"
He had no idea what they were talking about. Max and Zack exchanged a look. And Max tried to fill him
in.
"Critchlow showed up here with you. We figure he helped you break out of Manticore."
"Manticore? Why…"
And then it came back to him. Up to that point, Logan's mind had been too clouded with exhaustion and
pain to remember anything, but now it did. He remembered…but only up until the moment that soldier had
gotten the better of him with a bump on the head in front of Sam's clinic. Manticore had had him. Jesus.
Then something else occurred to Logan. Max had said they "figured" Critchlow had helped him. Did that
mean…
"Jack. Is he…" But one look at his companions told him everything he needed to know. Logan swore.
"He was shot up pretty bad," Zack told him. "So were you, by the way."
The younger man motioned to Logan's bandages, and Logan reached up and touched one, not remembering
having been shot even once. Not feeling the wounds now. Not feeling much of anything, really. His limbs
felt weighted and numb, perhaps because of the painkillers Bling must have given him.
Max watched his confusion with concern. "You don't remember any of this?"
Logan shook his head, wincing again at the pain of movement, but trying to cover it. Damn, but he wished
Zack wasn't present. He hated being weak. Hated his paralysis, most of all, because it made him weak.
Hated being weak in front of Max. And Zack never helped matters any. Mr. super soldier. He'd gotten
shot in the kneecap last night and now he was perfectly fine. One bullet and Logan had been confined to a
wheelchair for life. And now, a few bullets later, he was stuck in bed like an invalid. 'Way to impress the
lady,' he thought, avoiding looking Max in the eyes.
"I remember some soldiers approaching me and Bling on the sidewalk," Logan said, then suddenly looked
up, concern marking his features. "Bling?" he asked. But Max just shook her head. "He's okay. He went
to get you a doctor."
Logan nodded, sighing in relief.
"What about after that?" Zack asked. "Anything?"
"Nothing."
"We were there," Max suddenly told him, causing him to look at her in surprise.
"I mean, we were in the area. We saw them come at you…"
"And mounted a daring rescue," he finished for her. "I take it that didn't work."
Max smiled. "'Fraid not."
And Logan sighed. "A full army escort just for me. Looks like Eyes Only just lost his anonymity."
"Looks like it," Max said. "Logan, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
Max didn't get a chance to answer that, as a voice from the doorway interrupted the conversation.
"Perhaps for having me dragged here this early in the bloody morning?" the man suggested, shuffling into
the room.
The voice was accented and Max couldn't believe who it was attached to. The man – or should she say
kid? He was almost younger than she was – had spiky blonde-orange hair and wore rose-tinted glasses
with rectangular frames. Beneath his long coat, he wore a black sweater and blue jeans whose hems had
been cut off at the bottom, just over the toes of his vintage doc martins.
"Who the hell are you?" she asked.
"The only doctor, within about a thousand mile radius, who won't turn your boyfriend, here, into the sector
police for whatever it was he did to get shot at. Am I right?" the young man asked, raising a brow at
Logan.
In the way of greetings, it wasn't his most charming. But being dragged to Seattle at one o'clock in the
morning, after having spent an entire night raving, did not for a happy doctor make. Besides, he was used
to being constantly harassed about his age and credentials. He'd learned that the best way to deal with his
patients doubts was to just ignore them and do his job. If he did it right, people figured it out on their own
that he was for real. If he didn't, people died. Either way, he wouldn't have to deal with any annoying
small talk.
Despite all that, Logan smiled. He'd been an upperclassman at the university when Russell Sean had
registered as a freshman. The only freshman that had ever been able to teach their biology teacher a thing
or two. He was a kid prodigy, and a wealthy man's grandson to boot – that hadn't made him very popular
with his peers, or Logan's. But Logan had never been much for the corrupt in-crowd, himself, and he'd
always liked Sean. And had always trusted his abilities – even if he had dropped out of med school before
he'd ever gotten his license. The classes had really just been window dressing, anyhow, and as Logan
knew, all too well, the wealthy didn't really need licenses or diplomas to set up shop. Russ no doubt had
been able to establish a state of the art lab in which to work without either one. And there was no doubt
that that lab and his abilities had been needed. After the pulse, it became extremely difficult for the
common person to get affordable, dependable medical care. Especially from someone who wouldn't tattle
to the government at the first chance they got. Since Russ' father had been killed working with a group of
underground oppositionists, that wasn't a concern. And since Logan had helped the younger man destroy
evidence of that fact, some years ago, in order to protect the doctor's life, Russ had always told him that he
owed him one. Now it looked like Bling had decided to call in that favor on Logan's behalf.
"Good to see you again, Russ," Logan told him, smiling, and for the first time, Sean smiled back.
"Good to be seen," he replied, glancing up at Max and Zack. "I take it neither of you were the ones who
shot him?"
Max bristled at the accusation, whether it was serious or not, but Zack actually smiled. "Unfortunately," he
said, making the doctor laugh.
"Russell Sean, this is Max and Zack. They're…friends of mine," Logan introduced, hesitating over what to
call them. He and Zack were hardly friends, and he and Max…Well, it was close enough. "Max and Zack,
this is Russ. We went to the same university."
"Great," Zack quipped. "Another rich kid with time to kill." It was a statement that Logan and Russ
pointedly ignored, though Max thew her brother a scathing look.
"So you're a doc, huh?" Max asked. She had a lot of questions rolling around in her mind about this guy
and about Logan. He didn't talk much about himself or his past, and she imagined it would have been
interesting to meet him in college. Before Eyes Only. But the questions could wait.
"I'm a doc," Russ said. "Sort of."
Then he turned to Logan before Max could ask him what he meant.
"Heard you took one for the cause, buddy," he said, beginning to unwind the bandages around Logan's
shoulder. He and Logan made a point of not delving into each other's business on the rare occasions that
they got to speak. Neither could be what the government would consider model citizens. But, Russ did
worry about his friend; Logan had become a sort of big-brother figure for him throughout the years they
studied on the same campus. And he'd always appreciate what he'd done for him that time after his
father's death. It was Logan's help that had kept him safe; had allowed him to continue practicing
medicine for those who really needed it. If it weren't for him, Russ might not have lived to meet the
woman he'd recently married. And now they had a daughter on the way.
And it was also why, despite his grumbling about the time and his jovial attitude, Russ took Bling's call
very seriously. He'd always wanted the chance to repay his friend. And he'd seen the vidcaps of that
"mysterious shoot-out in downtown Seattle". He'd recognized the faces of the men who those soldiers had
been shooting at. And he'd thought, then and there, that he'd lost his chance forever. It had really
disturbed him. Now, though, seeing Logan alive and conscious was an immense relief to Russell. And, as
the bandages fell away from Logan's shoulder, it was also a great shock.
"What the hell is this?" he suddenly mumbled, looking up from Logan's shoulder to Logan himself.
"What?" Logan couldn't see what the doctor was looking at, but his response immediately put him on
edge.
Instead of answering, however, Russ turned to Bling, who had just entered the room.
"Why did you tell me he'd been shot?" he demanded.
And, as Zack just looked on in confusion, Max came around the bed to face Sean head-on.
"Because he *has* been shot," she told him, angrily. What the hell kind of games was this kid playing?
And Russ was thinking the same thing about all of them.
"Oh, really?" he asked, not at all amused, as he pulled the bandages away from Logan's shoulder
altogether.
"Shot where?"
There was no wound anywhere to be seen on Logan's shoulder.