TITLE: A Thousand Words Unspoken
SUMMARY: Max and Logan discover the power of a picture...and find what they've been missing.
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Hello, Goodbye (but with significant differences)
DISCLAIMERS: Dark Angel and its characters are the property of somebody else. Not me.
This story is based on a song. I'll give you the title and a link to the lyrics at the end, but for now please read this on its own terms. I had to take a little license with both the song and the DA universe to make it fit, so here's the deal. Max broke up with Logan as she did early in Hello, Goodbye, with the same honesty, and for the same reason--but in person and not after an actual virus attack. Alec didn't go to Max's, Logan never jumped to conclusions, and Max never lied.
I'm still working on Back to Good, and VS3 is keeping me busy, but my muse just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this!
Max lay awake in bed, thinking. The lights from the gas station across the street filtered through the blinds, laying stripes on the motel room floor. The sound of traffic was faint, just a car or two passing by in the late night, and the only other sound was of the three-day rain pouring outside. Beside her, the nameless man breathed evenly as he slept.
She had come here to escape the temptation her heat cycle presented her. Staying at her own apartment, it would have been easy to forget the virus, forget the past week, and just go to Logan for relief. She couldn't allow that to happen, didn't want to see him dead, so Max had gotten on her bike and left town for the duration of the cycle. The vibration of 600 cc's had eased her through the trip, but she couldn't ride forever, so she'd claimed this motel room as hers for the next few days. It wasn't long, though, before her cravings had driven her out to the nearest bar.
Max glanced at the man sleeping beside her. She'd kick him out in the morning. He was another in a line of men she had coupled with while in the throes of lust, a line that had started long before she'd ever asked Original Cindy to watch her back.
She hated this.
Her gaze wandered, as was inevitable, to the picture on the nightstand. She couldn't explain why she'd felt compelled to bring it with her; Max had just known that she had to toss it in her bag. She'd broken things off with Logan last week, afraid of infecting him, and keeping his picture around was the only comfort she allowed herself. But the loving face that watched her now seemed to pierce her soul.
Her captors had separated them, and her body had driven her to somebody else, but still Max hated herself in that moment. Unable to face the picture's gaze, she slid it into the nightstand drawer.
Then, silently, she began to weep.
Logan's face reflected in the window as he stared out into the rain. On another sleepless night, when Max had occupied every cranny of his brain the way she did now, he had gotten out of bed to escape and found himself here. That had been the night she had broken up with him. He knew it was because of the virus, and he knew she didn't want to do it, but that wasn't making things any easier. They hadn't spoken much in the week following, because it was too awkward. Now something felt just plain wrong.
The feeling had bothered him so much that he'd called Original Cindy to make sure Max was all right. She'd told him not to worry, that Max had just felt the need to get on her bike and ride, but he knew she was holding something back. No matter what he said, he still couldn't seem to shake the truth out of her, and Logan couldn't get rid of this feeling. It'd been three days since he'd heard a word from Max.
His only distraction these past few days had been a project with the S1W, for which he had been grateful. But now the mission was over, Asha was sacked out on his couch, too tired to drive home, and he was here by the window again.
He glanced over at the picture frame standing on the table. Max's face smiled at him from under the glass, but all Logan could see was the look on her face the night she had told him they had to end. She'd talked to him less and less since then, and now he couldn't reach her at all. He didn't even know where she was. Tears came to his eyes, and he sighed heavily.
Asha stirred behind him at the sound. Logan held his breath until she settled back into sleep. Then he quietly wheeled over to the table and tucked the picture frame away.
Days passed. Max's heat cycle ended, and she slowly rode home, not looking forward to life without Logan. She involved herself in her work, making extra runs at Jam Pony, and spent most of her free time checking on Joshua. She never went to Crash. Too much time spent there with Logan or thinking about Logan...too many memories. Eventually the sharp pain became a dull, pervasive ache. She told herself that she was moving on, that she had left Logan behind for his own good. She tried not to think about him.
Logan thought about her still, weeks later. Eyes Only and the S1W were keeping him busy, and he managed to focus on other things, but his mind still whispered "Max." Sometimes thoughts of her seemed to fill his head to the point that he couldn't take it anymore. If only he could find a cure for this virus, then she would come back to him. If only she would realize how much he missed her...then maybe she would come back anyway.
Finally, Max visited Kendra one day. Kendra just sat and shook her head as her former roommate moped. "Max, do you really want to stay away from Logan?"
"I have to," Max sighed.
"Then you need to let him go."
Max pondered that for a moment, and then looked at Kendra. "You're right. But I don't know how."
"Come to Crash with me," Kendra urged. "Drink him away."
Logan took a walk around the city in an effort to clear his head. For a while it worked; Eyes Only began taking note of the people who still needed his attention. But eventually he started thinking about Max again.
Over the crest of a hill rose the bell tower of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Church. Max had told him, all those months ago, that she'd talked to a priest about her brother Ben. Suddenly Logan felt a need to talk to that man as well. He needed to feel connected with her...somehow.
Then he saw her.
Max was walking down the same street with Kendra. When Max spotted Logan, she fell silent, eyes fixed on him. Kendra kept talking, unaware for a moment that Max had stopped. Then Kendra saw him too.
"Hey," Max said hesitantly, when they all drew close enough for conversation.
"Hey," Logan answered.
They stood there for a minute, unsure what to do or say. Max knew she should turn away, keep walking, keep the break clean. Instead she clung to the opportunity to talk to him. "So...how've you been?"
"All right," Logan hedged. "How 'bout you?"
"Good."
Words said one thing, eyes said something else. Each person was aware the other was lying. They knew each other too well.
Briefly Logan allowed himself to imagine that this was like old times. Maybe she wanted to talk to him. Maybe she had reconsidered...He was afraid to let himself believe that, but there was always hope.
As Max stood there in front of Logan, the sky seemed to brighten. This was the man she had shared so many dinners with. Here was the man who had played chess with her. They had been to a wedding, taken a working vacation, humored Phil. The taste of his lips jumped to hers now and her heart swelled at the memory of their anniversary night.
She had to leave, before she caved.
"Well..." Max said reluctantly, "I better...we need to get going. We were on our way somewhere."
Logan tried to hide his disappointment. "Yeah...okay. I was headed somewhere too."
They held each other's gaze for a moment, and it was all Max could do to break away. "See ya."
She walked around him, but he didn't miss the look of heartache on her face. He watched her go, watched Kendra catch up to her and put her arm around Max's shoulder, and finally kept walking the way he had been going.
Max begged off from Crash, professing a headache. Kendra didn't believe her, but she let Max go home without protest. Max flopped onto her bed and thought about Logan for a long time. She didn't try to push the thoughts away, as she had been. The next day at work, and the day after, she made her runs with him on her mind. She even mistakenly called a customer by his name.
Logan never made it to the church. Instead he wandered around the city, lost in his thoughts, until well after nightfall. Seeing her had improved his day, but those following were worse for it. He was now even more sure that this was wrong. They weren't supposed to be strangers.
One day he passed by the table and, fingers unbidden, pulled out the picture frame with her smile inside. He looked at it for several minutes, and then Logan knew what he had to do. He picked up the phone. Even if he only got her machine, she had to know.
Max wandered around her room, thinking. The two days since their encounter had been unbearable. She felt his loss more keenly than ever.
As she passed by the window, she paused by the nightstand. Slowly, Max reached into the drawer and pulled out Logan's picture. She held it carefully, with one hand supporting the frame, and gently caressed the glass over his cheek.
Suddenly she looked up, out the window. What was she doing? Starving herself of the one man who made her life right...hurting him...killing them both. She just couldn't continue that. It wasn't right.
Her hand went to the phone.
To Logan's surprise, the phone rang in his hand before he had a chance to dial. He had to fight to keep his voice from cracking with hope. "Hello?"
"It's me," came the voice he had been aching to hear. "I...I've been thinking."
"So have I," he told her. "About what?"
"About..." Max took a deep breath. "About us."
Logan held his breath. What was she going to say? That she loved him but couldn't risk his life? That she was going to leave town? Max was silent for a few moments, and he decided he needed to say his piece first.
"Max...whatever you're going to say.you need to know this. I love you. It's hard, and things can't be perfect, but...I want you to come back."
She laughed a little, right then. How did he do it? How did he always know just what to say and when? And how did he beat her to it?
"Logan...that's why I called. I'm sorry for doing this. I...I wish I hadn't." She twirled the phone cord with her fingers as she spoke the words she knew in her heart to be true. "I want us to be us again."
Logan's heart leapt into his throat. A smile spread across his face. "You do?"
"I do," she said, more confident now.
"I don't want to be apart anymore. I love you."
"Come over, Max," Logan asked gently. "Please."
Max wiped away the tear running down her cheek with the back of her sleeve, and smiled. "I'll be there before you know it."
Now, as promised, the title and lyrics:
"Picture" by Kid Rock featuring Sheryl Crow
http://darkangelkyre.8m.net/fic/picture.html
SUMMARY: Max and Logan discover the power of a picture...and find what they've been missing.
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Hello, Goodbye (but with significant differences)
DISCLAIMERS: Dark Angel and its characters are the property of somebody else. Not me.
This story is based on a song. I'll give you the title and a link to the lyrics at the end, but for now please read this on its own terms. I had to take a little license with both the song and the DA universe to make it fit, so here's the deal. Max broke up with Logan as she did early in Hello, Goodbye, with the same honesty, and for the same reason--but in person and not after an actual virus attack. Alec didn't go to Max's, Logan never jumped to conclusions, and Max never lied.
I'm still working on Back to Good, and VS3 is keeping me busy, but my muse just wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote this!
Max lay awake in bed, thinking. The lights from the gas station across the street filtered through the blinds, laying stripes on the motel room floor. The sound of traffic was faint, just a car or two passing by in the late night, and the only other sound was of the three-day rain pouring outside. Beside her, the nameless man breathed evenly as he slept.
She had come here to escape the temptation her heat cycle presented her. Staying at her own apartment, it would have been easy to forget the virus, forget the past week, and just go to Logan for relief. She couldn't allow that to happen, didn't want to see him dead, so Max had gotten on her bike and left town for the duration of the cycle. The vibration of 600 cc's had eased her through the trip, but she couldn't ride forever, so she'd claimed this motel room as hers for the next few days. It wasn't long, though, before her cravings had driven her out to the nearest bar.
Max glanced at the man sleeping beside her. She'd kick him out in the morning. He was another in a line of men she had coupled with while in the throes of lust, a line that had started long before she'd ever asked Original Cindy to watch her back.
She hated this.
Her gaze wandered, as was inevitable, to the picture on the nightstand. She couldn't explain why she'd felt compelled to bring it with her; Max had just known that she had to toss it in her bag. She'd broken things off with Logan last week, afraid of infecting him, and keeping his picture around was the only comfort she allowed herself. But the loving face that watched her now seemed to pierce her soul.
Her captors had separated them, and her body had driven her to somebody else, but still Max hated herself in that moment. Unable to face the picture's gaze, she slid it into the nightstand drawer.
Then, silently, she began to weep.
Logan's face reflected in the window as he stared out into the rain. On another sleepless night, when Max had occupied every cranny of his brain the way she did now, he had gotten out of bed to escape and found himself here. That had been the night she had broken up with him. He knew it was because of the virus, and he knew she didn't want to do it, but that wasn't making things any easier. They hadn't spoken much in the week following, because it was too awkward. Now something felt just plain wrong.
The feeling had bothered him so much that he'd called Original Cindy to make sure Max was all right. She'd told him not to worry, that Max had just felt the need to get on her bike and ride, but he knew she was holding something back. No matter what he said, he still couldn't seem to shake the truth out of her, and Logan couldn't get rid of this feeling. It'd been three days since he'd heard a word from Max.
His only distraction these past few days had been a project with the S1W, for which he had been grateful. But now the mission was over, Asha was sacked out on his couch, too tired to drive home, and he was here by the window again.
He glanced over at the picture frame standing on the table. Max's face smiled at him from under the glass, but all Logan could see was the look on her face the night she had told him they had to end. She'd talked to him less and less since then, and now he couldn't reach her at all. He didn't even know where she was. Tears came to his eyes, and he sighed heavily.
Asha stirred behind him at the sound. Logan held his breath until she settled back into sleep. Then he quietly wheeled over to the table and tucked the picture frame away.
Days passed. Max's heat cycle ended, and she slowly rode home, not looking forward to life without Logan. She involved herself in her work, making extra runs at Jam Pony, and spent most of her free time checking on Joshua. She never went to Crash. Too much time spent there with Logan or thinking about Logan...too many memories. Eventually the sharp pain became a dull, pervasive ache. She told herself that she was moving on, that she had left Logan behind for his own good. She tried not to think about him.
Logan thought about her still, weeks later. Eyes Only and the S1W were keeping him busy, and he managed to focus on other things, but his mind still whispered "Max." Sometimes thoughts of her seemed to fill his head to the point that he couldn't take it anymore. If only he could find a cure for this virus, then she would come back to him. If only she would realize how much he missed her...then maybe she would come back anyway.
Finally, Max visited Kendra one day. Kendra just sat and shook her head as her former roommate moped. "Max, do you really want to stay away from Logan?"
"I have to," Max sighed.
"Then you need to let him go."
Max pondered that for a moment, and then looked at Kendra. "You're right. But I don't know how."
"Come to Crash with me," Kendra urged. "Drink him away."
Logan took a walk around the city in an effort to clear his head. For a while it worked; Eyes Only began taking note of the people who still needed his attention. But eventually he started thinking about Max again.
Over the crest of a hill rose the bell tower of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Church. Max had told him, all those months ago, that she'd talked to a priest about her brother Ben. Suddenly Logan felt a need to talk to that man as well. He needed to feel connected with her...somehow.
Then he saw her.
Max was walking down the same street with Kendra. When Max spotted Logan, she fell silent, eyes fixed on him. Kendra kept talking, unaware for a moment that Max had stopped. Then Kendra saw him too.
"Hey," Max said hesitantly, when they all drew close enough for conversation.
"Hey," Logan answered.
They stood there for a minute, unsure what to do or say. Max knew she should turn away, keep walking, keep the break clean. Instead she clung to the opportunity to talk to him. "So...how've you been?"
"All right," Logan hedged. "How 'bout you?"
"Good."
Words said one thing, eyes said something else. Each person was aware the other was lying. They knew each other too well.
Briefly Logan allowed himself to imagine that this was like old times. Maybe she wanted to talk to him. Maybe she had reconsidered...He was afraid to let himself believe that, but there was always hope.
As Max stood there in front of Logan, the sky seemed to brighten. This was the man she had shared so many dinners with. Here was the man who had played chess with her. They had been to a wedding, taken a working vacation, humored Phil. The taste of his lips jumped to hers now and her heart swelled at the memory of their anniversary night.
She had to leave, before she caved.
"Well..." Max said reluctantly, "I better...we need to get going. We were on our way somewhere."
Logan tried to hide his disappointment. "Yeah...okay. I was headed somewhere too."
They held each other's gaze for a moment, and it was all Max could do to break away. "See ya."
She walked around him, but he didn't miss the look of heartache on her face. He watched her go, watched Kendra catch up to her and put her arm around Max's shoulder, and finally kept walking the way he had been going.
Max begged off from Crash, professing a headache. Kendra didn't believe her, but she let Max go home without protest. Max flopped onto her bed and thought about Logan for a long time. She didn't try to push the thoughts away, as she had been. The next day at work, and the day after, she made her runs with him on her mind. She even mistakenly called a customer by his name.
Logan never made it to the church. Instead he wandered around the city, lost in his thoughts, until well after nightfall. Seeing her had improved his day, but those following were worse for it. He was now even more sure that this was wrong. They weren't supposed to be strangers.
One day he passed by the table and, fingers unbidden, pulled out the picture frame with her smile inside. He looked at it for several minutes, and then Logan knew what he had to do. He picked up the phone. Even if he only got her machine, she had to know.
Max wandered around her room, thinking. The two days since their encounter had been unbearable. She felt his loss more keenly than ever.
As she passed by the window, she paused by the nightstand. Slowly, Max reached into the drawer and pulled out Logan's picture. She held it carefully, with one hand supporting the frame, and gently caressed the glass over his cheek.
Suddenly she looked up, out the window. What was she doing? Starving herself of the one man who made her life right...hurting him...killing them both. She just couldn't continue that. It wasn't right.
Her hand went to the phone.
To Logan's surprise, the phone rang in his hand before he had a chance to dial. He had to fight to keep his voice from cracking with hope. "Hello?"
"It's me," came the voice he had been aching to hear. "I...I've been thinking."
"So have I," he told her. "About what?"
"About..." Max took a deep breath. "About us."
Logan held his breath. What was she going to say? That she loved him but couldn't risk his life? That she was going to leave town? Max was silent for a few moments, and he decided he needed to say his piece first.
"Max...whatever you're going to say.you need to know this. I love you. It's hard, and things can't be perfect, but...I want you to come back."
She laughed a little, right then. How did he do it? How did he always know just what to say and when? And how did he beat her to it?
"Logan...that's why I called. I'm sorry for doing this. I...I wish I hadn't." She twirled the phone cord with her fingers as she spoke the words she knew in her heart to be true. "I want us to be us again."
Logan's heart leapt into his throat. A smile spread across his face. "You do?"
"I do," she said, more confident now.
"I don't want to be apart anymore. I love you."
"Come over, Max," Logan asked gently. "Please."
Max wiped away the tear running down her cheek with the back of her sleeve, and smiled. "I'll be there before you know it."
Now, as promised, the title and lyrics:
"Picture" by Kid Rock featuring Sheryl Crow
http://darkangelkyre.8m.net/fic/picture.html