TITLE: State of Mind

WRITTEN BY: Drea Jackman

EMAIL: DreaJackman@Literati.co.uk

RATING: PG-13

SUMMARY: When Logan & Max are drawing closer by the day, what could fate possibly throw
at them next?

DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters involved. They belong to Cameron/Eglee
Producions :(

ARCHIVE: If I've said yes before I'll say it again, otherwise email me 'n' lemme know.

FEEDBACK: Don't make me beg, please? ...D'OH!

A/N: Okay peeps, here's chapter 4! Even I hadn't really planned on making it to 4 let alone 5
and beyond (where I'm currently taking it believe it or not!). I'm really busy with end of term
reports starting to be flung at me from all sides. Xmas break in 2 weeks! WOOHOO! BUT until
then I'll be concentrating on getting these reports finished off and handed in so fic'll be taking a
backseat...except for on the train where I seem to do alot of writing these days. Not sure when
the rest will follow, but you'll bear with right? You're all way cool like that :o) Ty!

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The next thing Max was aware of was the odd feeling of disappointment as she felt the fuzziness
of sleep fading from her senses. The dream, it had been a pleasant one at no mistake. No chair
for Logan to worry about, no suit to malfunction at a critical moment, just the two of them
enjoying a song she'd never heard before in each others arms. Soon afterward the memories of
what had happened earlier that night caused her to bolt upright, the bed bouncing slightly under
her sudden shift.

Logan was still out cold, the same peaceful look on his face. The only thing that spoilt the
reassurance she knew she should've felt at such a sight was the equally evident paling of his
skin. He still wasn't right, she knew it only too well. Reaching out tentatively she brushed the
backs of her fingers down his left cheek. The stubble was a calming influence, bringing some
more sensation to a world that felt numb without his conscious presence.

The dressing she'd applied to his head had already become slightly blood soaked, the bright red
stain localized in the centre of the surrounding white canvas. Again, she found herself reflecting
on his vulnerabilities, the ones that had never seemed apparent before. Logan lived alone the
majority of the time. Bling was by at some point every day for training, she was by for dinner,
chess and whatever mission Eyes Only had for her. The rest of the time, he was alone.

Max found herself dwelling on the what ifs of the night's events. What if she hadn't been there?
What if the suit had still given out and no one was there to help? What would've happened if
she'd just declined the step forward in their relationship at least for tonight and refused him the
request of yet another dinner together? Would it have stopped what happened? Would he be
safer just not being around her at all?

"What's wrong?" a weary voice whispered softly.

Max's attention shot back as did her hand at the realization that she'd woke Logan up. With all
the unsettling thoughts she'd been having, it felt comforting to just feel him near her.

"You're sick," she replied, her voice smaller than usual, taking on the same frightened, child-like
quality as before.

"Nothing to be worried about," he reassured her as best he could from the fog still enveloping his
mind.

"It's enough."

Her words were final, past the point of caring just how much Logan could take from their
meaning. She could admit it, suddenly smaller things like hiding the truth didn't seem to matter
as much to her at that moment, not as much as letting him know exactly how she felt. Truth was
Max was worried sick, more than she'd ever been in her life of that she was sure.

"It'll be okay Max, trust me."

"Right, last time I had to feel like this you were..." she broke off mid-sentence as the memories
drifted back.

Logan didn't say anything, just closed his eyes and tried to mentally banish the aching drumming
in his head. It was starting to drive him insane.

"That isn't like now, I'm not gonna,"

"Die on me?" Max interrupted, finishing his sentence for him. The last time she'd dealt with
feelings of fear that held her like that instant was a few months back, when Logan had been
dying in the hospital. But, then she'd been able to do something to help him. Now she just felt
helpless and weak, powerless to protect him when she knew more than ever that's what she had
to do.

"Max," he breathed, his hand drifting up to clasp hers loosely in some attempt to sooth her.

"I'm sorry,"

Logan's only response was the mild furrowing of his brow in confusion, his hand gripping hers a
little tighter as he forced the strength from his tired muscles.

"I want to take the pain away, I wanna make you better, but I don't know how."

Everything was beginning to pile on top of her. The fall, the worsening symptoms of a serious
concussion she knew could only go from bad to worse unless she got him some help and to
make matters worse, the brownout which prevented the immediate help she do desperately
needed from coming. Tears began to well up, a single spilling over and cascading down her
cheek.

Logan only grew more restless. Fighting as hard as he could, he managed with much struggle
to get himself up into an almost sitting position in the bed. His hand tugged gently on hers,
trying to bring her closer to close the distance between them for he didn't have the strength to do
it alone. His eyes found hers, dark and visibly in pain. A pain he'd have given his right arm to
see banished from her beautiful features.

"No, "he breathed in his usual whisper-soft tones. "Max."

He wanted nothing more than to reassure her that he'd be fine, even though he was still partially
scared himself. Only he knew how bad he was feeling, how much pain he was in and he
couldn't make her belief something he still questioned himself. How could he make her believe
he'd be fine and everything was going to be okay?

As he saw the surrender in her eyes he shook his head slowly from side to side trying to implore
her understanding. It wasn't her fault, bad things happened to everyone, even though they
always seemed to travel in spades for them. It wasn't fair, but life rarely was. Still, seeing her
torn up at the result of a simple accident was more than he could bear. More than that, the
feelings radiating from her actions and her expressions told him more than the three words he'd
longed to hear pass her lips for him could have ever spoken. And still it went unspoken between
them, a tireless loose end that should've been tied up long ago.

Max closed the distance at his beckoning and sought comfort in his arms once again. As his
arms surrounded her they felt anything but weak, still as strong and powerful as she needed
them to be in that instant. But, another sensation made her eyes flutter open and the comforting
beat of his heart just beneath her ear grow fainter to her senses.

The familiar, slight scrape of scruff against her forehead was the first she was aware of, but the
next was a shock to her. Contrasting the coarse stubble there came the soft caress of his lips
tentatively pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. In that moment all the walls and barriers
crumbled and fell away. Nothing but the righteous feeling of the act was upon her, warming her,
finally managing to take the fear away and wrap it up in some warm bundle as the sense of ease
spread through her body.

It was a feeling that echoed itself in Logan as he committed the act itself. All the pain pushed
aside, not gone, but not at the forefront of all feeling anymore. The warmth spread throughout
his body and he was sure he could feel it radiating all the way down right to the very tips of his
toes despite knowledge to the contrary. The feeling that swept it's way through them both, it was
love and it felt right.