Walking back to the bathroom door, she steeled herself. "Here goes ... sorry Logan. 1, 2" On three, she kicked the door open. Logan sat in his wheelchair, fully clothed, right hand holding his razor and left wrist poised under the water running from the faucet in the sink. Blood dripped from the many cuts on his wrist, to join the water going down the drain.
"Max, what ---"
"Logan, put down the razor". Before either of them could blink, she grabbed the razor and shoved him away from the sink. Her sarcasm temporarily beat out her worry, as she told him,
"I just came to check up on you ... funny, I didn't expect to deal with this".
"Max, I just was ..."
"No, Logan. No more excuses. We're going to talk about this right now". She went over to him and picked him up. Throwing him over her shoulder (yet another time her genetic enhancements were a positive attribute), she carried him to the couch, depositing him there.
"Don't even think about moving anywhere".
"I can't, remember ..."
Max went back to the bathroom, where she found some gauze and a towel. Returning to the living room, she refused to look at his face. Instead, she knelt in front of him, wiping the blood from his wrist and then bandaging it . She had almost forgotten why she was there, or rather, who she was there for, until she heard Logan's "Ouch". She didn't realize how tightly she was tying the gauze. "Sorry about that," she muttered.
She finished the job, and put all of the supplies away. Going back to the living room once more, she went to her spot by the window. They remained in their positions, him sitting on the couch, her standing staring out at Seattle.
After a while, Max sighed. Aloud, she said: "So many people down there, all with their own problems and their own little worlds. And here I am with my little world. But its not so little anymore. You're in it now." She turned to him. "You're in my world now. So what gives you the right to try to take yourself out of it? How could you do this to me? To Bling? To all the people out there who need you?"
She started pacing around the room, getting angrier and angrier. "Logan, what were you thinking? Why? Do you think you're completely worthless?"
"Max ---" Logan tried to speak.
"Not now, Logan. I'm really pissed off, and if you were anyone else right now, I'd be kicking your ass."
"Max ---"
"Logan, there is very little you could say right now ..."
"Max, if you would just shut the hell up, maybe you would understand," he screamed at her. "Just shut up and listen to me".
"What could you possibly say ---"
"IT HURTS. I DON'T WAN'T TO DEAL WITH THIS WORLD ANYMORE." Logan's shouts pierced the room, bringing Max to a complete stop. As she looked at him, she realized exactly how despondent he was. His eyes were lifeless, and the way he sat made him look as though he had completely given up everything. As he continued to talk, she strained to hear his whispered confession.
"You don't know what this is like for me. I've always relied on myself. I've needed to take care of myself for so long. I can't ... I just can't".
TBC...
"Max, what ---"
"Logan, put down the razor". Before either of them could blink, she grabbed the razor and shoved him away from the sink. Her sarcasm temporarily beat out her worry, as she told him,
"I just came to check up on you ... funny, I didn't expect to deal with this".
"Max, I just was ..."
"No, Logan. No more excuses. We're going to talk about this right now". She went over to him and picked him up. Throwing him over her shoulder (yet another time her genetic enhancements were a positive attribute), she carried him to the couch, depositing him there.
"Don't even think about moving anywhere".
"I can't, remember ..."
Max went back to the bathroom, where she found some gauze and a towel. Returning to the living room, she refused to look at his face. Instead, she knelt in front of him, wiping the blood from his wrist and then bandaging it . She had almost forgotten why she was there, or rather, who she was there for, until she heard Logan's "Ouch". She didn't realize how tightly she was tying the gauze. "Sorry about that," she muttered.
She finished the job, and put all of the supplies away. Going back to the living room once more, she went to her spot by the window. They remained in their positions, him sitting on the couch, her standing staring out at Seattle.
After a while, Max sighed. Aloud, she said: "So many people down there, all with their own problems and their own little worlds. And here I am with my little world. But its not so little anymore. You're in it now." She turned to him. "You're in my world now. So what gives you the right to try to take yourself out of it? How could you do this to me? To Bling? To all the people out there who need you?"
She started pacing around the room, getting angrier and angrier. "Logan, what were you thinking? Why? Do you think you're completely worthless?"
"Max ---" Logan tried to speak.
"Not now, Logan. I'm really pissed off, and if you were anyone else right now, I'd be kicking your ass."
"Max ---"
"Logan, there is very little you could say right now ..."
"Max, if you would just shut the hell up, maybe you would understand," he screamed at her. "Just shut up and listen to me".
"What could you possibly say ---"
"IT HURTS. I DON'T WAN'T TO DEAL WITH THIS WORLD ANYMORE." Logan's shouts pierced the room, bringing Max to a complete stop. As she looked at him, she realized exactly how despondent he was. His eyes were lifeless, and the way he sat made him look as though he had completely given up everything. As he continued to talk, she strained to hear his whispered confession.
"You don't know what this is like for me. I've always relied on myself. I've needed to take care of myself for so long. I can't ... I just can't".
TBC...