"Float Like A Butterfly"
Chapter 7: And I'm Gettin' Old
by: Mochaije

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel or its characters. Other than that, the story and characters are mine.
Summary: Max's blood test results come back with some unexpected outcomes.
Rating: PG 13

Max's POV

Yawn. Like, really. I'm tired. Not having Shark DNA really zaps you. I stumble out of bed--I actually slept last night, wow--and into the bathroom. My face looks a little wrinkled. Odd. I lean over to the mirror and yes, I do have a couple wrinkles. My hair is also a little greyed. I back away from the mirror and put my hand on my slightly wrinked forehead. I remember Brin, how she started aging like this. Progeria. Her heart thumps in my chest and I have some sudden trouble breathing. Placing my hands on the sink, I take a few deep breaths. I'll just wear a hat. My blood test should've been analyzed by now, right? Maybe the wonderful 'ole Dr. Carr can help. Or I'll have to track down a Manticore tech. Or turn myself in. I start shaking again and the phone rings. I don't know how to answer it, because I don't know Ben's last name and it's his place. Gee, does everything I did while I was in heat have to make me feel cheap? Taking home a guy whose last name I don't even know. Well, no more heat. I decide on a greeting and snatch the phone from inside Ben's medicine cabinet. This kid puts shit in the wierdest places.

"How did you get this number?" I demand from the caller. Logan chuckles on the other end and tells me that I gave it to him. Oh, right, I say. His tone goes very serious.

"Doc Carr got your blood test back. I'd better not tell you the results over the phone." He's trying to sound serious but comes across worried.

"Am I pregnant?" I ask him. He doesn't say anything about that, just tells me to come over. I sigh and say okay, then hang up. I gotta get that U-Haul back sometime soon.

About half an hour later, Logan invites me to sit down on the couch beside him. It has to be bad news. He would've told me over the phone if Sam had picked up something besides whether or not I was pregnant. He looks scared shitless, and I'm feeling the same way. My wrists, my back, my knees, my ankles, and my knuckles all ache.

"You're not pregnant," he tells me, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. That still leaves why I got so sick up in the air. I don't ask him about it though, and he continues. "But Sam Carr picked up something else... Why are you wearing a baseball cap?" I can tell that he's trying to avoid telling me what the doctor found. I pass it off as a bad hair day.

"What else did he pick up?" I ask, verbally nudging him into telling me. He still avoids it and I go over to where he's sitting and plunk myself down right beside him, asking him again. He looks away.

"You've... You've got early-stage Progeria, Max..." His voice falters noticeably. It still shocks me and I look away also. I've actually got it. I'm going to die an unfairly early death or become a Manticore minion. Fuck. We're both silent for a few minutes.

"Manticore helped Brin," I say, after a while. "I've got her heart. That could be it. Me and Zack were gonna spring her from Manticore but she got Progeria... I-I won't go back there." I look over at him. "Does Carr have any Manticore-related buddies?"

"No," he says quietly. "And Lydecker shot the last Manticore tech we were friends with. I'm sorry, Max."

"Don't be... It's not your fault," I tell him, trying to stay strong. "Look, I'll go back and have Ima and Ben and Zack get me out of there..."

"Max, it's in your heart, circulating in your blood. Unless they get you a new heart, you'll get back here and--"

"Why didn't it show up earlier then?" I interrupt. "I mean, I lose any trace of my X5 abilities and suddenly I'm aging like it's in style. Maybe if I get them back... I gotta go talk to Ima." I get up to leave and turn around for a moment. "Don't worry, Logan, I'm not excited about having to go back. I won't do it unless my life depends on it."

Asha's POV

It's awkward having Ima around here. She doesn't sleep. And she's telepathic, or as I like to call it, incessantly lazy. She sits at the table across from me as our breakfast makes itself in the kitchen. I braid my straight, blonde hair instead of talking to her. She looks incredibly bored, but maybe I'm just incredibly boring. Max barges in then.

"Hola. Shop at Ikea much?" She's wringing her hands, and looks like she aged a few years overnight. The liver spot on her cheek practically looks at me as she walks over and sits down, pretty much ignoring my presence.

"I've got Progeria," she spits it out like someone unexcited about the results of a football. I decide not to tune them out. Ima still looks bored and she tucks her bouncy red curls behind her ear.

"Well, what do you want? Would you like to me to call St. Peter and have him save you a room?" Ima asks innocently. I'm about to ask what Progeria is, but I'm pretty sure it gives you liver spots.

"No, I need you to revv me up again," Max tells her as if it was obvious. "The girl I got my new heart from had Progeria and it didn't start bugging me until I... Uh... De-revved..? You know what I mean." Ima chuckles, shaking her head and walking into the kitchen to get our completed breakfast.

"It's your clock, hon," she calls from the kitchen . "But if you think it would help, I'll just need your barcode number. And I hope you plan on giving Ben's de-revver back." She comes back to the table, balancing some pancakes and syrup.

"If it doesn't work, I'll have to go back to Manticore," Max says quietly. She's scared, I can tell. From what I've heard, Manticore isn't a great place. She looks over to Ima. "You've got my back on that, right? As soon as I'm cured, you guys are gonna spring me?"

"We got your back," Ima assures her. "So, what's your barcode number?"

"Three-three-two-nine-six-oh-oh-seven-three-four-five-two," Max tells her. She nods and runs off to get her scanner, pushing the pancakes over to me. I dig in. They're good. I try to make some kind of conversation with Max.

"How are you and Logan doing?" I ask. She looks a little suprised that I'm talking to her.

"We're... I dunno. How 'bout you?" She just returns the question.

"Same," I tell her, shoving some more pancakes into my mouth. "Want some?" She shakes her head. "Look, I'm sorry about acting like a bitch or whatever. I didn't mean to get between you and Logan... I didn't even know you existed. Thanks for helpin' out at the clinic and stuff."

"Yeah, ditto," she says, drumming her nails on the table. She's not too talkative today.

"So what's this Progeria thing?" I ask, slicing up my last two pancakes. She lets out a bit of a huff.

"Premature aging, usually fatal. And usually only in children. It's a little common in Manticore kids." Ima comes back in then, scanner in hand.

"Three-three-two-nine... Six-oh-oh-seven-three-four-five-two," she says as she punches some numbers into the scanner. It beeps. "Okay, Max, just look down for a second." Max obliges and Ima runs the scanner over the back of her neck, then dissappears back into the guest room.

"Feelin' better already," she says, flexing a bit.

Max' POV

I check myself out in the bathroom. My wrinkles have definitely tightened up a bit, the liver spot is fading fast. I'll probably have to dye my hair, though. It hasn't gotten any greyer since I got here however, thank goodness. At least I'm not pregnant. I hear Asha rooting around in her private closet and sneak up behind her.

"Nice collection," I observe. She stands up, startled.

"Thanks. I've got S1W business," Asha says informally, going back to picking a gun. Besides guns, though, she's got everything. Coms, tasers, the works. She finally picks a small, pocket-sized taser and a nice-looking handgun, similar to the one she used at the clinic. She loads it and shove it in her coat. "Toodles." She leaves then. I notice that my wrists and knuckles have stopped aching. My beeper goes off. It's Logan...

I don't even bother calling, I just head over. He doesn't look quite so shaky any more. I decide not to take my chances with the roof, but my arthritic knuckles ache when I try to pick the lock. Helpless, I surrender to knocking. Logan tells me that my hair is less grey. I thank him for noticing.

"I got a hold of Lydecker. He said he could get in touch with a lab tech from Manticore and get you the cure." He babbles on and on for a minute or two about how I'm going to be okay and everything. I tune him out. He seems a bit pissed off.

"Max?" My name snaps me out my daze.

"Yeah?" I ask him, a little shaken. "So where's this lab tech? What does he want as payment?"

"Your body," Logan says plainly. "When you die, Manticore wants your organs. For their bank, in case an X5 goes down."

"Fine. What am I going to do with 'em?" I say calmly. He shakes his head and walks off. "What's up with you today, buddy?"

"Progeria is fatal, Max. Don't you get it?" He asks me impatiently. "You act like it's no big thing that you could be gone tomorrow... Again." His voice falters.

"Life is fatal," I tell him. "I could walk outside and get hit by a car, or have one of those wacky hoverdrones shoot me through the window. I'm going to die anyway. It might be today or tomorrow or years from now. Get over it." For some reason, I don't feel bad for being so cold. He doesn't say anything, just retreats somewhere into the hallway of his apartment. I sigh and follow, closing the front door before I go.

"Why are you walking away from me?" I ask him . He turns, a bit angry that I came after him.

"People missed you when you died, Max. And it looks arrogant as hell that you aren't worried at all about this Progeria shit. I shouldn't have thought that you'd understand that it hurts people when their friends die. Things trained to kill probably don't think about the repurcussions." His last sentence hits me like a blow to the face. It hurts momentarily and then you see the cold look they give you, and that hurts even more.

"I am worried," I counter, getting in his face. "But life goes on if you're still living, and I'm not going to let the fact that I'm turning into an old woman faster than most twenty-year-olds drag me down. Not a single fucking bit."

-----------------------

CHAPTER NINE PREVIEW: TARGET PRACTICE IS FOR MEXICO

"I think we can," he assures me. "If we can't..."

"Then I'm pretty much dead," I lie. If it doesn't work, I'll just turn myself in to Manticore. Fuck it. I've escaped many times before, I'm sure I can manage it before I become like Brin. If this guy doesn't turn me in first. I hear pumps clicking in the next room and the door opens once again.

"Hello, 452..."

-----------------------

AUTHOR NOTE

Progeria is an actual disease, and it usually affects children, causing them to get severe arthritis, their hair to grey and their skin to wrinkle, and their noses to get all pinched up. Currently, children who get it rarely live past twenty... But in DA's universe, it's curable. Max's Progeria is accelerating mostly because I need it to be a real hazard to her health soon.

And I'm not saying if Max and Logan are going to get together or not... Yet... Maybe something will happen in chapter 9... :)