James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.
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X – Personal Sacrifices, Part 2How can I possibly do all of this alone? Max wondered as she sped along the near-abandoned, rain-slicked streets of Seattle. But you're not alone, she reminded herself. You still have Joshua. And Alec.
"No!" Max growled as she downshifted quickly and gave the engine more gas, immediately increasing her speed by 15 mph. "Don't think about that yet," she scolded herself. Every time her thoughts drifted to Alec, she became confused. There were simply too many contradictory feelings. On the one hand, I want to strangle him, she thought. Or actually, sometimes I want to strangle him with both hands, she added with a wicked grin. But then again, he can also be so… I don't know.
"But Logan," she muttered, changing gears again as she continued to lay on the speed. She wanted so much to simply outrun her pain and frustration, but the faster she went, the more hyped up she became.
I can't believe he did that, she thought for the umpteenth time since leaving her friend's apartment. I can't believe him. He goes and gets a vaccine and doesn't tell me, then he tells me we're through, and then has the gall to say that there might be hope for us in the future. Like I believe a word of it. He's totally through with me. I just know it.
That unexpected conclusion caused Max to slam on the brakes, locking the back tire as she screeched to a halt in the middle of an intersection. "That rat fuck son of a bitch!" she spat angrily, laying down a line of rubber as she sped off once again. I can't believe he treated me like that. After everything I did for him…
Despite her efforts to avoid thinking about Logan – or anything or anyone else, for that matter – she kept coming back to the very thing that was causing her to race along in a death-defying circuit of the city. After everything I did for him, he just throws me away as soon as we have a chance to make it work.
Max didn't even notice the police cruiser that pulled out of an alley and started to pursue her. It was left behind within seconds as Max blew through the checkpoint at the city limits, racing away into the sprawl that had once been a thriving example of American suburbia at its best. How many times did I risk my life for him? she asked herself. God only knows. I went on his stupid Eyes Only missions. I got shot at. I jumped off buildings. I came back to Seattle when he was on the verge of death, even though I knew it would almost certainly mean I'd be recaptured. I even made the impossible decision to stay away from him, because I knew what it would mean if he ever got too close. The bike increased speed again as 100 mph became a distant memory, and still Max couldn't outrun her pain and anger. Goddamn it, I even went to a fancy-shmancy Cale family event! That was like enduring the seventh circle of Hell. But did I complain? Of course not! I gave so much, and he never gave anything!
Well, he hardly gave anything, she quickly amended as she remembered Logan's assistance during the attacks on the Manticore facilities in Seattle and Gillette. But it wasn't like he wasn't getting anything out of that, either. Every time he helped me and Zack he got another chance to dig up some dirt on Manticore. That's probably what he was really after – that would have been Pulitzer Prize winning stuff. You know, I'll bet he never saw me as anything more than a great story.
Max finally eased off the throttle and slowed down, allowing the bike to coast to a stop a mile later. "I can't do this anymore," Max muttered, trying to face her inner demons head-on. I used to be so independent, so self-reliant. Damn Logan for making me get used to having people there for me, even if they were just using me. Now what do I do?
The realization that she had changed so much during her time in Seattle made her stomach lurch uncomfortably. I don't know if I'd be able to just pick up and leave anymore, she decided. Even if there wasn't the whole thing going on in Terminal City, I don't think I could just give up my friends and the home I've made for myself. Her body shivered as she dwelt on her thoughts, on how she was no longer the free spirit she had been only a couple of short years earlier. I became so dependent on my friends – my surrogate family – that I don't know if I can just fend for myself anymore.
I miss the old me, she thought miserably. She knew she was still far more emotionally detached than most, but she also couldn't help but admit that she had also sacrificed some of her meticulously constructed isolation in order to gain something she figured might be just as valuable. Friendship, she thought ruefully. Was it really worth it? Are you happier now? she asked herself. She was just about to tell herself she wasn't, when a voice in the back of her mind asked a new question. How exactly would you know if friendship's worth it? It isn't really like you totally opened up. That thought threw her completely off-balance. After all, she had concluded time and again that she was remarkably well adjusted socially, especially when she considered everything she'd been through. I did the best I could, she protested. Have I actually become weak?
"No," she muttered, immediately jumping in surprise at the sound of her own voice. "I'm not weak." She couldn't imagine how she could possibly conclude that she had lost any of her resolve, any of her formerly boundless amount of inner strength, especially not after everything she had seen and done during the past couple of months. No one who was weak could have done everything I've done. I'm going to reshape the world. I'm going to make a place for the transgenics… for my people. Max didn't even notice that for the first time in her life she had accepted her role as the transgenics' leader. Instead, she saw only the race's finish line, rather than the miles of difficult terrain that lay between her and her goal. But I don't think I can do it all alone, she admitted, stuffing down all of her doubts and insecurities. Even if it's just someone to confide in…
She searched again for someone – anyone – she would be able to go to, to talk to, to lean on for support and assistance. Despite her best efforts, her thoughts kept coming back to the same place.
This is crazy she thought, desperately seeking an alternative. Despite her best efforts, though, she couldn't avoid what she felt was inevitable. Him? I don't even like him… Or do I? Max took a deep breath to settle her nerves, and then turned to head back to Seattle. She looked at her watch and began to hope she would be able to reach the city by dawn. It'll be tough to get past the guards if I show up in broad daylight, she knew. Then again, it still wouldn't be as hard as the conversation I have to have when I finally get home again.
To be continued……………………………