Blah blah, Kiss kiss, part 11
by pari106
pari106@hotmail.com
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html
Rating: PG-13; Disclaimer: See chapter One.
Blah blah, Kiss kiss, part 11
by pari106
Max sat by the hospital bed, staring at the blank monitor nearby. Logan
was no longer connected to it. He no longer needed it. He was going to
make it.
Logan was going to make it.
All that happened, all that had been sacrificed, had not been for naught.
Logan was going to live.
And Max knew she should be overjoyed. Some part of her was. It would
have torn her in two if Logan had died and she'd done nothing. It would
have destroyed her if Logan had died even after she'd done what she had.
Max was overjoyed that Logan lived. But she couldn't really grasp onto
that feeling right now. She couldn't feel anything. She was just…numb.
A total contradiction in and of herself, considering her red-rimmed eyes,
red from having cried, non-stop, for nearly a day. Regardless, she was
numb.
Then she heard Logan stir.
Logan slowly drifted back into consciousness, and after he'd finally
shrugged off the remains of a night's dream, he turned to where he sensed
Max sitting near him. He gave her a weak smile, and Max even managed
to give him one back, her broken heart leaping just a little at seeing him
alive and awake once again.
"Hey," he told her.
"Hey," she simply replied.
Logan had woken once before and they'd talked, briefly. He'd talked to
Bling. He'd heard about what happened. How Max came and donated her
blood to him; how she saved his life. How the police came for her, but
how it didn't matter, because then they let her go. About how…
Max felt her emotions rise up within her once again, and she pushed the
thoughts away, resolute that she would not cry again. Not just yet, not
here in front of Logan. Not again. She took a shaky breath, trying to
ignore the concerned stare she knew Logan was placing upon her, even
now when it was he who had almost died the day before.
Max busied herself wheeling over his dinner tray.
"Lunch," she said, faking a casual tone. She picked up the lid to reveal the
untouched meal beneath, and wrinkled her nose. "I figured you'd be
napping all day, but the nurse insisted on leaving it. For you or me, I don't
know. I couldn't eat it. Guess I don't have much of an appetite…"
Suddenly, Max realized she was rambling and abruptly stopped.
"Hospital food," Logan drolled, even though the humor of his tone didn't
reach his eyes. He grabbed Max's hand, pulling her back down into her
seat and closer to him. "The one thing even the Pulse couldn't make
worse," he joked, but he didn't smile.
He squeezed Max's hand and his concern finally broke through the neutral
expression he'd tried to effect for the sake of Max's composure.
"Max…"
"How're you feeling?" Max suddenly asked, squaring her chin as if she
were forcing herself to remain calm.
Logan's jaw tensed just a little, hating the dark feelings that tormented her.
But he understood her need to remain in control, and he played along.
"Pretty good," he told her, finally letting her hand go. "Must be all this
supercharged Manticore blood I got in me."
Max just nodded. The gesture seemed frantic to Logan. Max wasn't even
looking at him. Slowly, a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Logan reached up and brushed it away.
"I can't believe you came back," he said, truly awed. His voice was low
and quiet with it. He had found a friend in Max the likes of which he had
never known before. When he thought of what she'd risked, just for him.
Of what she'd lost…
Logan's own eyes began to sting.
Finally, Max's eyes found his. "I had to, Logan," she told him, her voice
shaking. This time, when Logan took her hand, she squeezed back. "I
love you," she told him.
Logan smiled at her, gently. "I know," he said. His grip on her hand
tightened. "But not like you love Zack."
Max didn't answer. For a moment, she couldn't. Her next words escaped
her lips, but dissolved into a sob before she could even form a sentence.
"I just can't believe he…that he'd…he'd do that…for me…"
Then she started to cry outright.
"Max…"
Logan pulled Max into an embrace, holding her as she cried. He
swallowed back his own emotion.
"He cares for you, Max," he told her as he rubbed her back, consoling.
"And I don't mean like a brother," he said, willing Max not to interpret
Zack's sacrifice as being something she should feel guilty for. He didn't
want that for her. And he had a feeling Zack wouldn't want that for her,
either.
He pulled back, allowing Max to sit back up so he could look her in the
eyes once again. Her sobs quieted just a bit.
"You know that now, don't you?" he asked.
Max nodded.
"But I…" She shuddered, finally pulling back all the way into her seat,
needing the little bit of distance to recover herself. She wiped furiously at
the moisture on her cheeks. "I couldn't just leave you, Logan." Her eyes
suddenly became angry, bitter, that anger and bitterness warring with the
guilt and sorrow that shook her. "That's what we X5s do best right? Run?
Leave. Every time things get too hot we bail. On everything and
everyone. Relocate and redeploy, right? Just like good little soldiers."
Logan knew Max was being unfair to herself, to her family, and he
realized she probably knew this, as well. But she had to vent now, so
Logan let her.
"I had to stay," she continued. "Not just for you, but for me and Zack,
too."
Max's eyes went out the window behind her, then to the hands folded in
her lap.
"I guess I just wanted to show Zack that sometimes…" Her voice
quavered once again. Oh, God, what had she done? "That there are some
things worth not leaving."
She looked back to Logan, and found sympathy in the gaze he returned
her.
"Looks like he already figured that out," Logan told her quietly.
Max was silent for a moment. "Looks like," she repeated, softly. Then
she began to weep again.
"Max…"
Then Max was on her feet.
"The thing is…" She wiped at those tears again, this time the anger in her
voice being directed completely towards herself. Along with her pain.
Her sorrow and her fear and her regret…
Zack had been captured. No, worse. He had surrendered. He had
surrendered himself for her. He'd gone back to Lydecker, to Manticore –
the place he'd always said he'd rather die than step foot in again, and he
had meant it – he'd gone back for her.
All that Max had thought she was sacrificing by returning to Seattle had
been nothing compared to what she'd truly lost. She'd lost Zack. Not just
his love or his companionship or his approval. She'd lost him. And if he
didn't make it out of Manticore; if no one could get him out, he'd lose
himself. He'd die. Because he would never turn, Max knew this even if
she knew nothing else. Zack would never let Manticore bend him. He'd
let himself break before he'd do that.
And so he was lost. And it was because of her.
"The thing is," Max continued, "…that he was worth not leaving, too."
Max wrapped her arms around herself as she wept, shaking.
"But I did," she lamented, torn. "I left him, Logan."
She sat down on the edge of Logan's bed and let him once again rub her
back, being there for her.
"You would have gone back," he offered eventually. "If you could have,
you would have gone back."
"Does that matter?"
"Yes, it matters," Logan insisted. "You didn't know what Zack would do,
Max. You never would have left if you did."
Max looked at him. "Of course, I…"
Logan shook his head. "No," he told her firmly. His eyes found hers and
the look there told her he was serious. "You wouldn't have. Max, I
wouldn't have wanted you to." Logan's own guilt was beginning to show
itself. "Not if I knew what your coming back was going to do to the both
of you," he finished, quietly.
"Logan…"
Their hands found one another yet again, and they just sat there. In
silence. Max didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else she
could have done. She didn't know what she would do now. She simply
didn't know anything anymore. And that numbness that had overtaken her
had disappeared like vapor. All those feelings churning around inside of
her stabbed at her now like daggers. All she knew now was that she would
have those feelings for a long time.
Finally, when Max's torment had quieted once again, Logan spoke.
"You would have stayed with him if you could have, Max. You would
have come back to him. That does matter. It matters because you'll know
not to make the same mistake again."
Max looked at him, afraid to let his words give her hope, but unable to do
anything else.
"There will be a next time, Max," Logan told her, forcefully. Needing her
to believe that. Knowing she needed to believe it. "If anyone can get back
out of there, it's Zack. He'll be alright. He'll be back. And you won't
leave him again."
Max just sat there, absorbing the words. As she did, she was reminded of
a time only days ago. A time that seemed so long ago now. Before the
wanted poster and the night at the cabin and the fateful day after. A time
when she'd thought Zack was the one who always left. When it was Zack
who walked away.
Funny. Max had a lot of experience watching Zack walk away. But she'd
always imagined it was harder watching, than it was walking. She'd
thought that he'd had it easier, being the one to leave.
Now Max was the one who'd left; who'd walked away.
And now she knew she'd been wrong.
by pari106
pari106@hotmail.com
http://www.geocities.com/pari106/damain.html
Rating: PG-13; Disclaimer: See chapter One.
Blah blah, Kiss kiss, part 11
by pari106
Max sat by the hospital bed, staring at the blank monitor nearby. Logan
was no longer connected to it. He no longer needed it. He was going to
make it.
Logan was going to make it.
All that happened, all that had been sacrificed, had not been for naught.
Logan was going to live.
And Max knew she should be overjoyed. Some part of her was. It would
have torn her in two if Logan had died and she'd done nothing. It would
have destroyed her if Logan had died even after she'd done what she had.
Max was overjoyed that Logan lived. But she couldn't really grasp onto
that feeling right now. She couldn't feel anything. She was just…numb.
A total contradiction in and of herself, considering her red-rimmed eyes,
red from having cried, non-stop, for nearly a day. Regardless, she was
numb.
Then she heard Logan stir.
Logan slowly drifted back into consciousness, and after he'd finally
shrugged off the remains of a night's dream, he turned to where he sensed
Max sitting near him. He gave her a weak smile, and Max even managed
to give him one back, her broken heart leaping just a little at seeing him
alive and awake once again.
"Hey," he told her.
"Hey," she simply replied.
Logan had woken once before and they'd talked, briefly. He'd talked to
Bling. He'd heard about what happened. How Max came and donated her
blood to him; how she saved his life. How the police came for her, but
how it didn't matter, because then they let her go. About how…
Max felt her emotions rise up within her once again, and she pushed the
thoughts away, resolute that she would not cry again. Not just yet, not
here in front of Logan. Not again. She took a shaky breath, trying to
ignore the concerned stare she knew Logan was placing upon her, even
now when it was he who had almost died the day before.
Max busied herself wheeling over his dinner tray.
"Lunch," she said, faking a casual tone. She picked up the lid to reveal the
untouched meal beneath, and wrinkled her nose. "I figured you'd be
napping all day, but the nurse insisted on leaving it. For you or me, I don't
know. I couldn't eat it. Guess I don't have much of an appetite…"
Suddenly, Max realized she was rambling and abruptly stopped.
"Hospital food," Logan drolled, even though the humor of his tone didn't
reach his eyes. He grabbed Max's hand, pulling her back down into her
seat and closer to him. "The one thing even the Pulse couldn't make
worse," he joked, but he didn't smile.
He squeezed Max's hand and his concern finally broke through the neutral
expression he'd tried to effect for the sake of Max's composure.
"Max…"
"How're you feeling?" Max suddenly asked, squaring her chin as if she
were forcing herself to remain calm.
Logan's jaw tensed just a little, hating the dark feelings that tormented her.
But he understood her need to remain in control, and he played along.
"Pretty good," he told her, finally letting her hand go. "Must be all this
supercharged Manticore blood I got in me."
Max just nodded. The gesture seemed frantic to Logan. Max wasn't even
looking at him. Slowly, a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Logan reached up and brushed it away.
"I can't believe you came back," he said, truly awed. His voice was low
and quiet with it. He had found a friend in Max the likes of which he had
never known before. When he thought of what she'd risked, just for him.
Of what she'd lost…
Logan's own eyes began to sting.
Finally, Max's eyes found his. "I had to, Logan," she told him, her voice
shaking. This time, when Logan took her hand, she squeezed back. "I
love you," she told him.
Logan smiled at her, gently. "I know," he said. His grip on her hand
tightened. "But not like you love Zack."
Max didn't answer. For a moment, she couldn't. Her next words escaped
her lips, but dissolved into a sob before she could even form a sentence.
"I just can't believe he…that he'd…he'd do that…for me…"
Then she started to cry outright.
"Max…"
Logan pulled Max into an embrace, holding her as she cried. He
swallowed back his own emotion.
"He cares for you, Max," he told her as he rubbed her back, consoling.
"And I don't mean like a brother," he said, willing Max not to interpret
Zack's sacrifice as being something she should feel guilty for. He didn't
want that for her. And he had a feeling Zack wouldn't want that for her,
either.
He pulled back, allowing Max to sit back up so he could look her in the
eyes once again. Her sobs quieted just a bit.
"You know that now, don't you?" he asked.
Max nodded.
"But I…" She shuddered, finally pulling back all the way into her seat,
needing the little bit of distance to recover herself. She wiped furiously at
the moisture on her cheeks. "I couldn't just leave you, Logan." Her eyes
suddenly became angry, bitter, that anger and bitterness warring with the
guilt and sorrow that shook her. "That's what we X5s do best right? Run?
Leave. Every time things get too hot we bail. On everything and
everyone. Relocate and redeploy, right? Just like good little soldiers."
Logan knew Max was being unfair to herself, to her family, and he
realized she probably knew this, as well. But she had to vent now, so
Logan let her.
"I had to stay," she continued. "Not just for you, but for me and Zack,
too."
Max's eyes went out the window behind her, then to the hands folded in
her lap.
"I guess I just wanted to show Zack that sometimes…" Her voice
quavered once again. Oh, God, what had she done? "That there are some
things worth not leaving."
She looked back to Logan, and found sympathy in the gaze he returned
her.
"Looks like he already figured that out," Logan told her quietly.
Max was silent for a moment. "Looks like," she repeated, softly. Then
she began to weep again.
"Max…"
Then Max was on her feet.
"The thing is…" She wiped at those tears again, this time the anger in her
voice being directed completely towards herself. Along with her pain.
Her sorrow and her fear and her regret…
Zack had been captured. No, worse. He had surrendered. He had
surrendered himself for her. He'd gone back to Lydecker, to Manticore –
the place he'd always said he'd rather die than step foot in again, and he
had meant it – he'd gone back for her.
All that Max had thought she was sacrificing by returning to Seattle had
been nothing compared to what she'd truly lost. She'd lost Zack. Not just
his love or his companionship or his approval. She'd lost him. And if he
didn't make it out of Manticore; if no one could get him out, he'd lose
himself. He'd die. Because he would never turn, Max knew this even if
she knew nothing else. Zack would never let Manticore bend him. He'd
let himself break before he'd do that.
And so he was lost. And it was because of her.
"The thing is," Max continued, "…that he was worth not leaving, too."
Max wrapped her arms around herself as she wept, shaking.
"But I did," she lamented, torn. "I left him, Logan."
She sat down on the edge of Logan's bed and let him once again rub her
back, being there for her.
"You would have gone back," he offered eventually. "If you could have,
you would have gone back."
"Does that matter?"
"Yes, it matters," Logan insisted. "You didn't know what Zack would do,
Max. You never would have left if you did."
Max looked at him. "Of course, I…"
Logan shook his head. "No," he told her firmly. His eyes found hers and
the look there told her he was serious. "You wouldn't have. Max, I
wouldn't have wanted you to." Logan's own guilt was beginning to show
itself. "Not if I knew what your coming back was going to do to the both
of you," he finished, quietly.
"Logan…"
Their hands found one another yet again, and they just sat there. In
silence. Max didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else she
could have done. She didn't know what she would do now. She simply
didn't know anything anymore. And that numbness that had overtaken her
had disappeared like vapor. All those feelings churning around inside of
her stabbed at her now like daggers. All she knew now was that she would
have those feelings for a long time.
Finally, when Max's torment had quieted once again, Logan spoke.
"You would have stayed with him if you could have, Max. You would
have come back to him. That does matter. It matters because you'll know
not to make the same mistake again."
Max looked at him, afraid to let his words give her hope, but unable to do
anything else.
"There will be a next time, Max," Logan told her, forcefully. Needing her
to believe that. Knowing she needed to believe it. "If anyone can get back
out of there, it's Zack. He'll be alright. He'll be back. And you won't
leave him again."
Max just sat there, absorbing the words. As she did, she was reminded of
a time only days ago. A time that seemed so long ago now. Before the
wanted poster and the night at the cabin and the fateful day after. A time
when she'd thought Zack was the one who always left. When it was Zack
who walked away.
Funny. Max had a lot of experience watching Zack walk away. But she'd
always imagined it was harder watching, than it was walking. She'd
thought that he'd had it easier, being the one to leave.
Now Max was the one who'd left; who'd walked away.
And now she knew she'd been wrong.