Transgenic: A Hybrid Heresy
By AntipodeanOpaleye
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Wow! I made it to chapter two! That is amazing! I apologize for the wait, this chapter wasn't exactly easy to write, as I found out part way through. Also, thanks to all that reviewed! I really appreciate it! It makes writing that much easier! As I've said before: This is going to turn out as M/A, if you don't like that pairing, I suggest you don't read, though I will say that I'll do my best to avoid Logan bashing; though I don't mind reading it, I'm probably not going to write it. And, as always, if you read it, please review it; I love feedback, good or bad, just as long as it's relayed tactfully. Ok, enough with the boring rambling from me, I hope you like this chapter!
Also, if any one likes this fic enough, or is just completely obsessed with anything Dark Angel, I am looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, say so in a review.
Chapter Two: Memory
Alec sat there on the Needle; knees tucked up under his chin, deep in thought. He couldn't stay there long, he had to get back to Terminal City before he aroused suspicion, but hey, it was only about 2:45 AM, he could afford to stick around for a while. He took in his surroundings, jerking himself out of his thoughts, taking in the view of Seattle he had from there. For a broken city in a Post-Pulse country, it was somewhat beautiful.
Maybe he should've left when he'd had the chance, back after he and Max had sent those kids off to Canada. Yeah, after they sent them off to Canada. He'd planned to leave right after Max had taken over the situation, but then White got her. How could he have just left her there for him to take apart? Exposure wasn't even a factor in his decision to go back and get her out. It wasn't even a decision, really. But he never regretted staying to help her then, contrary to popular belief.
Then it'd been his turn to get picked up by Special Agent Ames White. It'd been his fault, of course, what with his cage fighting and such. And he was too damn, too damn, what? He was never a coward, never, and he prided himself in that. He was a competent man, he could take care of himself. But he'd never said he was fearless. And White, that first face-to-face meeting with him, scared him. Ames White was out to get the transgenics, he was out to kill every single one of Alec's kind. And at that time, that particular thought had frightened him. Things had changed since then, he no longer cowered from White, but at that point, death was coming, and if he could sweet talk his way out of it, he would. Alec had had too much experience with death not to be afraid. So he'd been stupid, made another deal with the Devil. Said he'd kill his own kind, out of his own fright, convinced White he was capable of doing so when he wasn't. And he'd been impulsive enough to believe White would just let him go kill these transgenics, no strings attached, and he'd be able to skip town before any one knew the difference.
Instead, White decided to place a micro explosive on his brain stem to bind him to the deal. Undoubtedly, even if he managed to kill three transgenics in a day, White didn't have enough decency to disarm the explosive and save one of the abominations that he was trying to destroy. But he might as well take the chance that White might keep his word. 'And bring in their barcodes. Proof of Purchase.' He heard White's words over and over. A somewhat perverted notion, bring in the barcodes, but hey, who was Alec to question the motives of a madman?
So, he started a hunt. He'd casually asked Max is she'd seen any transgenics lately, kept his cool. Then he found his first victim while helping to look for Joshua. He hadn't had much of a problem with "Cat Woman,' it'd been awkward, but he'd gone through with it.
Then there was the, he was an X5, maybe an X6; he'd been obviously been a subordinate of Alec's back at Manticore, seeing as he'd obviously recognized him and had addressed him as 'sir.' That'd been difficult. The kid was only trying to make it on the outside, just like he was, and neither of them had a clue on exactly how to live outside Manticore. He didn't have the heart to kill the kid, so he just sliced off the kid's barcode, blindly hoping that White wouldn't notice, as his time was running out.
And then he made the mistake of returning to ask for more time. Ask for more time, there's a laugh. And, of course, White had found out that he'd faltered, not being able to kill the young X he'd found. But Alec didn't give up, he just continued to plead for more time. He was denied. Oh, but what a marvelous consolation that the X would count towards his final total. He had a little over an hour to kill one more transgenic, and he had no clue where to find one. Might as well go find a bar a drown his sorrows until he died.
But then he met up with Max. He'd tried to reason with her, tried to explain his situation to her, but she was too self-centered, too absorbed in her own problems, such as finding Joshua. Joshua. She had a lead on Joshua. It felt wrong, but it was the only way. The only way.
He'd been ready. He was seriously going to kill Joshua. He'd been ready. But, of course, things couldn't work out. Joshua just happened to be the only transgenic without a barcode. And Alec needed a barcode to convince White. He started to finally except death and then,
Max.
He'd become obsessed with his own survival, his own well being. In a way, he was ready to kill her. But as he looked at her shaking form on the ground, as her looked into her eyes, breathing heavy, telling her that he didn't want to die, he snapped. He snapped, and for some strange reason he couldn't do it.
'No, Alec. You know why you couldn't do it.'
She'd taken him to the Manticore tech, the one who was curing her little virus so she and Logan could touch. He'd been short on cash, so Max had paid the difference, on account that he'd pay her back. But then the little weasel-like technician dropped the bomb; he was leaving town tonight, and Max had to choose whether she wanted him to finish her cure, or to save the notorious 'Smart Alec.' And she'd chosen to save him.
He still wasn't sure why. Once he found out about her whole sibling thing, he thought it could be that she didn't want the death of another transgenic on her hands, even if he was an idiot. Then he'd found out about Ben, and he thought that maybe it was that she didn't want to she that face, lifeless once again. But the fact that it was him, in exchange for the chance to be with the man she loved, astounded him.
She'd verbally bitch slapped him after he was in the clear, and told him to do her a favor, to go away. And so he did. But not before saying what was on his mind.
"I'm sorry, Maxie. I'm so sorry. For everything," he whispered into the night.
And he fell back into his thoughts of the past.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You are an assassin, 494. Morally, you don't deserve to live."
"You are the perfect killer, 494. You should be proud."
"You're a lot like your brother, 494. 493 gained the same uncertainty as you have; the same uncertainty that is causing you to fail. If you don't change your ways, you will fall into the same habits as he did."
And so the memories intensified.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"X5-494," a female Manticore lab technician harshly called his designation, interrupting a particularly brutal outdoor sparring match between 494 and another male transgenic that he didn't know the designation of. 494 was beating the hell out of the other X5, and delivered one last blow to powerfully finish off the opposition. 494 stood up, unfazed by the amazingly strenuous battle he had just won hands down. He looked down at his victim, who was visibly having trouble breathing. As this was the last training session of the day, he really wo0uld have reveled in disfiguring his opponent a bit more severely, but knew that it wouldn't be wise to completely ignore the call of 'authority.' At this point, 494 turned his attention to the Manticore tech.
"494," she restated, and 494 folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently, refusing to stand at attention and address her properly. She frowned at him, and met her with a very subtle pout that he'd perfected for no apparent reason in his spare time, along with a variety of other facial expressions that tended to work to his advantage with the Manticore technicians. The woman frowned again, but didn't comment on 494's display.
"Director Renfro requests your presence." Wordlessly, 494 followed the woman into the main facility, and then into Renfro's office, which, incidentally, was opposite the barracks. The platinum blonde was sitting at a large desk at the back of the room. She glanced from the black laptop that she'd been typing furiously on to address them.
"Thank you, Doctor," Renfro said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and the technician promptly left the room. As the door clicked shut, Renfro turned her full attention to 494.
"State your designation," she said, her eyes burning into the transgenic.
"X5-494, ma'am," 494 said in a blank tone, standing at attention, his eyes facing forward and void of emotion. She was the only one that he would address correctly, though she didn't deserve it. He addressed her suitably because, in a strange way, having some sort of an authority figure made him feel secure. He saw out of the corner of his eye something flicker on her face. Pride, perhaps? He didn't have time to dwell on it, because Renfro dove into conversation almost immediately.
"494, it's been a while since I've had the pleasure of seeing you. When was the last time? The Berrisford Assignment? Yes, I believe that was it, though I've been informed that you've shown significant progress since then, especially seeing as you gave no signs that the reindoctrination process had had any effect on you. We many never know." She'd been circling him through this entire oration, like a vulture enclosing its prey, and it was beginning to annoy 494. He was expected to stand at attention until order otherwise when in the Director's, presence, but to display his irritation, he relaxed, which stopped Renfro dead in her tracks. She smiled cryptically at 494 before continuing, and remaining in one spot.
"494, what do you know of coupled transgenics in the X Series?"
494 searched her features for a clue as to what form of answer she was looking for, but could find none. He dove in blindly, hoping that his efforts would impress the Director.
"My knowledge of twinned X5's is very limited, ma'am," 494 said blankly, though he eyed Renfro suspiciously as he continues. "I do know that they share select genetic combinations and well as appearance, and have similar designations." He left out any knowledge of his own twin, X5-493, though it was obvious that he knew of 493. How could he have gone through his Psy-Ops visit without figuring out why he'd been there?
"Very nice, 494." Renfro said, her voice impressed yet dripping with sarcasm at the same time. It sent a chill through 494, though a spectator wouldn't have been able to tell. He straightened as she sighed deeply and resumed speaking.
"494," she said authoritatively, "are you aware of the current status of X5- 493?"
"X5-493 escaped in from his facility 2009, along with X5-734, X5-210, X5- 471, X5-452, X5-701, X5-656, X5-205, and X5-599, all of whom were the only successful Manticore escapees that I am aware of. X5-493 was never recaptured, and, to the extent of my knowledge, his current whereabouts are unknown." 494 was curious as to what was so important about 493's location and status. He was a rogue transgenic, and an insubordinate soldier was of no use to Manticore. Even reindoctrination might not be enough to instill blind discipline into one that had betrayed Manticore so flagrantly. And what the hell was she asking him for?
"X5-493 is deceased, 494," Renfro stated bluntly, much to the surprise of 494. His eyes widened momentarily at the report, only to recede back into emptiness seconds later. Renfro continued, oblivious of this change in expression.
"He was found dead in a wooded area outside of Manticore. Cause of death was deemed an intentionally dismembered neck. But that is unimportant." She paused, her eyes burning into 494's face as she arched her head slightly in order to see him clearly. "Did you know that 493 was what Manticore consultants would define as insane?"
494's expression visibly changed now, and Renfro would've had to be blind not to notice. He slowly shifted his gaze downward to meet the shorter woman's gaze in a more personal way. His eyes widened as he abandoned his semi-formal stance to rub the bridge of his nose in dreading anticipation of what was to come of this conversation and to absentmindedly run a nervous strand of fingers through his sweaty, dirty blonde hair. After doing so, he crossed his arms and addressed Renfro's obviously rhetorical, yet unanswered question.
"I was unaware of X5-493's mental instability until now, ma'am."
"Of course you were, 494," Renfro barked agitatedly. She looked at 494 again, trying to see something past the emotionless soldier that was standing in front of her. Finding no indication of any thought from 494, she sighed and settled for an instinctive inquisition instead of the more informed questioning that she was hoping for.
"You know where this is going, don't you 494?" she asked, in he characteristic sickening sweet voice that dripped with mocking. He knew she wanted a straightforward answer, so that is what he provided her with.
"Yes, ma'am," he stated softly, "I have an informed opinion of what this conversation is leading to."
Renfro nodded. "Seeing that your DNA is twinned with that of 494, we're going to need to take you into Psy-Ops for more in-depth psychological evaluation than that you received after the '09 escape. Plan on an extended absence from daily training. As this is a pressing matter, but not exceedingly urgent, I suggest you return to the barracks, give any remaining orders, or revise any standing orders in light of this situation, in the case of your unit. I expect you to report back here tomorrow morning at the standard arousal hour."
494 didn't need to be told twice. He saluted the Director obediently, and promptly left for the barracks. He was hoping that they'd be deserted, so that he wouldn't have to waste time explaining anything to his unit, but, unfortunately, three soldiers were in the barracks when 494 arrived. Two of them, the female X5-717 and the male X5-891, saluted 494, their Commanding Officer, and quickly left for some sort of training; weapons if 494 wasn't mistaken. After they had gone, 494 looked down at the remaining transgenic. You couldn't tell at first glance, but he was different from the others. He was the only one that 494 had really become, well, friends with. They were more like brothers, more like family, regardless of the fact that Manticore highly disapproved of such emotional bonding. His designation, X5-521, had been long discarded by 494, in fact, 494 could still remember the day that the transgenic had disregarded his bar-coded identity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Soldier!" 494 had shouted at the young transgenic. He was 13, at least, 494 thought he was 13. Not that the boy's age had anything to do with the situation at hand. He'd been displaying disobedience since his last Solo Mission and, at this point, 494 was required to speak with him privately. "What is this traitorous notion of yours to neglect your Manticore given identity?"
The boy looked up at 494, decidedly meeting his eyes. "They don't have numbers on the outside. They have names. Why else do they give us aliases for Solo missions?"
494 was shocked. Not only at this boy's obvious problem with his authority, but at his resolve to be his own person. 494 knew that the individuals Manticore had made them into were something to be proud of, but this boy did have a valid point. The boy continued before 494 could retaliate.
"For example, when I went to Los Angeles for a mission last month, I was Michael Biggs. Why aren't we numbers on the outside if Manticore isn't hiding reality from us? I don't care what anyone else says; from now on, I'm Biggs, at least when no one else is around, like Manticore Techs, or Lydecker. Lydecker when he abandons his precious Gillette children to supervise us, that is. " "Biggs said with distaste. He looked ready to elaborate on the topic, but thought better of it.
He was decided, and obviously pissed at Lydecker, and 494 knew that he couldn't change the boy's mind, especially if he wasn't thinking clearly due to his aggression.
"As you wish. Biggs it is. But in private only, no one else will know, not Manticore, not the other soldiers, not even the rest of our unit. This is between us." 'Biggs' nodded, understanding the consequences they would both face if anyone found out, and seeming to accept this compromise willingly. Security was tightening more and more since to '09 escape. After that night, 494 began to use his spare time to some up with his own name, yet such efforts had been abandoned after the Berrisford Mission. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of individuality; it was just that he didn't need Manticore breathing down his throat if he could help it. Besides, he had more important things to worry about now..
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Now, approximately seven years after that occurrence, 494 was brought back to reality. He met Biggs's gaze as he slumped into his bunk, throwing his head backward in frustration.
"Hey man," Biggs said, "I haven't seen you this depressed since you got back from your extended stay in isolation." Biggs was trying to lighten the mood, but was obviously concerned about his best friend's melancholy state. Much more serious now, Biggs continued cautiously. "What's up?"
494 sighed dejectedly. "They're sending me back to Psy-Ops, man, all because of that bastard twin of mine, 493. He went psycho on the outside, and they're just waiting to find a genetic link to his mental instability in his unfortunate double."
"Jeeze, bro, that's harsh. Did they say how long you'd be there?" Biggs' voice lowered to an inaudible whisper, able to be heard only by the enhanced hearing that all transgenics shared.
"Renfro said to expect a long vacation from daily training. I was ready to kill the blonde bitch by that point."
Suddenly, 494 sat bolt upright, eyes widening in an unspoken anxiousness that surprised Biggs. He knew that 494 would show emotion around him, though not around anyone else, but never to such an extreme.
"Biggs?" he asked tentatively, his voice a trembling whisper that 494 had acquired after the Berrisford Mission. Biggs had never heard him so desperate, but he knew this tone must be signaling that 494 was, in short, terrified more than words could express. Biggs directed his attention to 494, curious as to what had cracked his usually composed friend. 494 swallowed hard and continued.
"Do, do you think they'll get rid of me? I mean, they've been really close to it before, or at least, they'd do stuff to me that they hoped would kill me, that should've killed me. Do you think they'll just up and finish the job this time?"
Biggs was obviously shocked at 494's open panic, though he his it well. 494 was the light-hearted, up-beat, smart ass Commanding Officer that everyone knew and, in some strange military sense, loved. It scared Biggs to see him like this, but he knew that if he didn't help to reassure his friend, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, especially if 494 was indeed killed in the near future.
"It's gonna be all right, man, trust me." Biggs tried his best to sound convincing. He was unnerved by his friend's instability, but felt that he had to say something. He'd never seen 494 so. vulnerable. Oh sure, he'd seen "emotionless", frustrated, nervous, unsure, and, most frequently, royally pissed off, but never so lost. He looked sick, maybe it was it was because he'd so gone pale, Biggs wasn't sure.
"Biggs?" 494 asked again. Biggs looked almost afraid of what would follow. "Could you do me a favor?"
"Yeah man, anything," Biggs croaked.
494's eyes brightened visibly as he continued. "You were always, so, so," 494 searched for the suitable term, going on without indicating his aforementioned request. "You were always so different. Even when we were little. I remember when that guard insulted your fighting style, what were we, 13 or so? 14 maybe? And you just blew up and, I guess you'd heard the guards say it, or something, but you told that guard to "Screw Yourself, Asshole," if I remember correctly. Promptly knocking him out afterwards, of course." 494 stopped and smirked at the mental image the memory produced. Unfortunately, Biggs took the pause as an invitation to speak.
"Yeah," he said pointedly, "but when the Sub-Director arrived for her daily inspection, and she found her guard knocked unconscious, she wasn't too happy. I thought I was going into reindoc for sure. She was pissed.."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Soldiers!" Sub Director Davis shouted at the unit of X5s that had been temporarily left unsupervised on the training field. She was obviously appalled at the lack of order. The soldiers immediately stood at attention once noting her presence. She strode in front of the group agitatedly, eyeing each of them suspiciously. Her gaze settled on Biggs, then moved reluctantly to each of the other soldiers in turn. She turned back to Biggs who was situated at one end of the line of fourteen. 494 was at the opposite end of the line.
"State your designation," she barked. At the words, Biggs tensed, but quickly complied.
"X5-521," he said clearly, and Davis moved to the soldier to his right. Her gaze immediately requested the same revelation of the next genetically enhanced warrior.
"X5-717," she said.
Down the line the Sub Director went each of the soldiers yelling out their respective designations.
"X5-534!"
"X5-762!"
"X5-647!"
"X5-891!"
"X5-576!"
"X5-787!"
"X5-583!"
"X5-811!"
"X5-629!"
"X5-825!"
"X5-746!"
"X5-494!"
Davis look at 494 curiously.
"494, is it?" she questioned him, and he simply eyed her silently.
"Which of you serves as Commanding Officer of this unit?" she barked, and 494 strode forward. Davis eyed him again.
"Commanding Officer X5-494," he shouted.
"494," Davis sneered, "I'd like to have a word with you."
494 followed the Sub Director out of the area, many curious and even apprehensive gazes tailing him from the other X5s in his unit. Hell, he wasn't looking forward to 'having a word' with the Sub Director either, but he marched behind her, expressionless, secretly shooting reassuring glances at a select few of the soldiers.
762 was one of the more human soldiers in his unit, or, at least, she let her humanity show more. Her eyes had grown wide at the sight of her Commanding Officer being taken away once again, leaving her without any form of stability. She was an outcast in the unit, but 494 had always tried to make her feel useful. On his way out, 494 flashed one of his priceless smiles at her, and she visibly relaxed at the gesture.
494 walked farther down the line and passed 787. 787 was a wonderful soldier. He was perfect or near it in almost every aspect of training. Almost. He had only one flaw. He had trouble with the main aspect of Manticore: assassination. Of course, he'd killed, but he wasn't as composed about such an act as the others were. Most of the soldiers killed because Manticore had told them to, and Manticore was the law, Manticore was everything, Manticore was life. 787 killed because if he didn't, one way or another, he'd be the one who ended up dead. After every kill, he'd become silent and closed off, even more so than a Manticore soldier usually was. But 494 always tried to pull him out of it, to break him out of his own prison. He'd talk him out of it eventually, only to be met with the same challenge sometimes only days later. 494 passed 787, whose face was blank but his eyes were posing an infinite number of questions to his Commanding Officer. 494 looked at him and nodded, seeming to answer 787's unspoken inquiry. He gave him a subtle grin, and continued to walk.
At the end of the line, 494 made eye contact with Biggs. Biggs had gone a bit pale; knowing that 494 was on thin ice with the Manticore administrators, and only being able to imagine what was in store for 494 after this. He was trembling slightly; obviously remorseful for his thoughtless display, which had led to this occurrence. 494 stared at Biggs for a long time, almost pausing to do so. As he passed in front of Biggs, 494 muttered a request, in an inaudible whisper that only the closest transgenic would be able to decipher.
"Take care of things while I'm gone."
Biggs nodded solemnly. He looked taken aback at 494's blunt plea, and confused as well; 494 hadn't done anything, why should he be gone for long? But he was resolute to carry out his new duty. 494 continued to follow the Sub Director obediently, and was soon out of sight of the rest of the unit.
Davis led 494 away from the training area to a small, enclosed research facility on the grounds, which had been cleared out when a new one had been built in the main facility. She opened the unlocked door and walked in with 494 at her heels. She slammed the door and locked from the inside, turning to face 494.
"So, X5-494? You're twinned with one of the '09 escapees?"
"Yes ma'am. My DNA is twinned with that of X5-493 of the '09 escape."
"Interesting, 494, very interesting."
494 stood motionless as the Sub Director evaluated him silently.
"Exactly how, 494, was your unit's guard attacked, and under what circumstances?"
494 was momentarily surprised that she didn't simply demand a straight-out explanation from him, but recovered immediately, realizing her approach. 494 assumed that she was going to ask him irrelevant questions, avoiding the obvious topic of discussion, trying to get him to divulge as much true information as she could. He didn't blame her; there was never any proof against him, but there'd been many incidences in the past, though minor compared to the one at present, where 494 had been suspected of taking the fall for his unit, and lying to authority in order to do so. But he wouldn't conform to her tactics, he couldn't, or else Manticore would win, and that wasn't acceptable.
"The said guard was attacked after provocation in the form of a insult of the X5 fighting style, of which we have been instructed to take immeasurable pride in; to always hone our skills to perfection. We have done so, and feel that it is intolerable to have our abilities slandered."
Sub Director Davis smirked malevolently at 494's false obedience. If she didn't know better, she'd probably think that he really was the perfect soldier, both physically and mentally. His display was flawless, and exceedingly convincing. The only deterring factor was his slightly marred record, defaced by his numerous suspensions from training for moderate isolated punishment after undoubtedly protecting his unit from their own insubordination.
"494, don't think I don't know that you will falsely testify to my authority in order to protect your unit. It's something you've been known to do, protect. I'm not sure why, but as it's been proven that you are a loyal Manticore soldier, it doesn't worry me to any extreme. So, I'll ask you one more question, just one, and I want a single designation from you. I don't care which it is, or even if it is truthful, but it is protocol that I punish at least one soldier for such a display." She paused briefly, for dramatic effect, 494 assumed, but continued.
"Which soldier attacked their guard during a the brief period they were unsupervised during training?"
"Commanding Officer X5-494, ma'am." 494 answered without hesitation.
"Well, 494," Davis said, seeming a bit bewildered at his willingness to possibly sacrifice his own well-being for the safety of his unit, "looks like you'll be spending another week or so in confined punishment. I may even have to heighten the level from moderate to extensive. But look on the bright side, 494, at least it's not Psy-Ops, or Reindoctrination."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
494 tensed at the mention of the past occurrence, and at the memory that flashed through his head. He'd never let his unit realize that he's taken the blame for their mistakes; the mere thought of it made him feel, well, it made him feel strange. Biggs wasn't to be fooled so easily, though.
"What is it man?" Biggs asked obliviously. "I mean, they said that you were in for Officer Training for those next two weeks, that you'd be gone." Realization finally dawned upon Biggs as he slowly came to comprehend that 494 hadn't attended any type of training during that time. "I wondered why you looked so sick when you came back, I thought that is was just the training, that it had been more intense than usual." Biggs swallowed hard before posing the obvious question. "You took the fall for me, didn't you?"
494 just stared at him, his eyes relaying any answer that Biggs was looking for. Biggs didn't stop there, though. "It wasn't the first time, though, was it?"
"No," 494 said quietly, "it wasn't the first. Far from it, in fact."
Biggs didn't need to ask his friend what had happened during each of situations in which 494 had taken the blame for one of them; he a good idea without any confirmation. But he wasn't silent.
"Why?" Biggs croaked. 494 looked at him questioningly, so he clarified his inquisition. "Why'd you protect us? Why did you put yourself through that for us?" Biggs was getting angry, intertwining his fingers and staring at the ground. If 494 had taken the wrath for everything their unit had just thought of as a 'lucky break' from punishment, he'd been through more of Manticore's shit than Biggs had previously imagined as survivable.
Hell, 494 had been in Psy-Ops for six months when they were nine, being the twin of an '09 escapee, and then with the extra disciplinary measures they took to avoid another escape on top of that? It was enough to make even an X5 go off the deep end. Biggs had even heard of a few of the X5s who had gone through the same thing after the escape and actually had gone crazy. They'd been deemed defective, of course, and joined the rest of the defective X's, or so he'd heard. But it didn't stop there for 494, no; he'd obviously taken the blame for his unit innumerable times, and in consequence, had endured the subsequent punishments. Damn, then there was the Berrisford thing just recently, that was harsh. Biggs had later found out that he's spent three weeks in isolation, a Manticore record, and had been shipped directly to reindoctrination in no condition to be prodded at. But that didn't matter to any of the staff down there. After he's been brainwashed to satisfaction; it had taken a few months, but 494 hadn't been able to keep track of time very well while there; he was sent to Psy-Ops, and his stay there was far from bearable, and even Director Renfro was surprised he'd survived.
"Why'd you put your own life on the line for ours?" Biggs suddenly broke the silence again, staring his friend straight in the eye, demanding an answer from him. Demanding the truth.
494 sighed. "That was never an issue. I was your Commanding Officer, I still am. I take care of this unit, these people. Your lives go before mine without question; that's my duty. But, it was more than that. By then, I'd become, protective, I guess, of all of you. I didn't want to see any of you hurt in the ways I knew they would hurt you; I didn't want any of you to see the things I'd already been forced to see. So I figured, if I could keep just one more soldier from being subjected to the pain, the torture, and the fear, I just thought that it would be better that way. In my mind, it was never my worth compared to yours, that was never a question. It was different, I don't know how to explain it. But, I guess I did what I did out of, a, a sense of family, and, I guess, I guess," 494 tried to avoid finishing the statement, embarrassed by the emotions triggered by the conversation. He felt cornered, and he didn't like it. But Biggs wouldn't let get him out so easily.
"What was it?" he asked forcefully. "Was it duty? Was it guilt? Was it compassion? What?"
494's eyes shot up at the last suggestion. "I, I, I guess it was. I guess that's what it is. Compassion."
Biggs nodded. For some reason, it felt good to hear his friend admit such feelings, to admit to his own humanity. He stared at his friend hard, an uncomfortable silence settling between them, each man deeply immersed in thought. Thinking of the past, of their childhood, of the present situation they were both in, and of what in the hell would go wrong in the future. Which trigged a vocalization from one of the young men.
"You never finished," Biggs whispered tentatively. 494's head snapped upward to stare at his friend, and after a few moments, he finally responded to Biggs statement.
"Wha, what?" 494 knew exactly what Biggs was hinting at, but after everything that had just transpired, and the memories and emotions that had been triggered, he wasn't sure if he had the energy or the will to continue with his previous train of thought.
"Earlier," Biggs said without meeting 494's eyes, "you asked me if I could do you a favor. What did you want?"
494 was silent for a while, contemplating whether or not to address the issue. He felt torn. He seriously didn't want to get into this now, and regretted even mentioning anything along the lines of request from Biggs. Sure, he was close with Biggs, but 494 didn't depend on anything, or anyone, for anything; why should he start now? He didn't need anyone, he never did, except.
No, he didn't need anyone.
But then, on the other hand, he was preparing to walk into the unknown depths of Manticore in merely minutes and, though that aspect of his situation didn't bother him too badly, the fact the he may die, and no one would ever give a shit, no one would ever care, terrified him. Hell, the fact that he was so terrified? That terrified him even more. Oh, and the fact that he was a twenty year old genetically engineered soldier worrying about his impending death because his twin had become a murdering psychopath? That was terrifying too. After resolving not to think excessively over the more frightening aspects of his life, 494 returned to his original train of thought.
He was approaching almost certain death, or at least, torture no being would want to live through. What would it matter if he actually depended on someone to do something for him, especially if he was incapable of doing it himself? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"What did you want?" Biggs asked again, more urgently.
494 sighed. "You know that I don't depend on other people to do what I can do better myself," he flashed one of his trademark gins at that point, thought it was obviously forced. "But, you're different, and I know that I can trust you with this. And it's going to sound extremely, well, childish, and wishful, but it's something that I need you to at least try to do for me."
Biggs nodded, just wanting 494 to get on with it, but knowing better than to piss him off by saying anything.
"If you ever get a chance to, you know, get out in the world, live your own life, live free, without Manticore on your ass, live it up." Biggs looked confused, so 494 continued. "I always thought that it'd be really great on the outside. You know; do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted, all day every day. Free to do your own thing; go hang out, charm the ladies, drink enough to get a pretty heavy hangover, and sleep until whenever the next morning. It'd be like a permanent deep cover mission, just that you'd never have to check in with anyone, or give your mission status to any of your superiors. There wouldn't be any superiors." 494 glanced over at Biggs, who seemed to be immersed in the possibilities of 494's description of life on the outside. Smiling slightly at his friend's reaction, he continued.
"But after the everything with Ra- I mean, the Berrisford Mission," 494 had never described his relationship with Rachel in any depth or detail with Biggs, though it'd been mentioned many times between them. "I guess I just realized, for the first time, that there was more to life than orders, punishments, and designations, but there was also more to life than my ideas of girls, parties, and enjoyment. I know it sounds crazy, I mean, ideally, who wouldn't want a life full of that, without any accountability for anything? But, when you think about it, considering what we really know about the outside, what would life be without responsibility, expectations from yourself and those around you, commitment? The things that are worth having are worth working for. It sounds cliché, but it's true. The best things in life take loyalty and dedication, and they involve a lot of risks. But that's just my view on things." 494 seemed embarrassed at his small oration on such a topic, but continued softly.
"Biggs, if you ever get out, live life to the fullest. Make a real life for yourself, start fresh. Enjoy life as people are meant to enjoy it. Enjoy what we've been deprived of since birth. Because I don't think I'll ever get the chance to." He continued to stare at the floor in silence after that. After a few tense moments, Biggs broke the wordlessness.
"I will." Biggs said simply, though his voice was distant. "I swear I will."
494 looked a bit taken aback at Biggs's quick consent, and at his serious disposition towards 494's horribly childish request. Not knowing exactly what to say, he simply said, "Thank you."
Biggs nodded in response, and muttered a barely audible "No problem," to 494.
494 rose to his feet, smoothing out his camouflage military pants and ruffling his hair. He approached Biggs, who had also resumed at standing position. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged before meeting the other young man's eyes.
"Don't come back dead," Biggs said simply.
"Not a chance," 494 replied just as casually.
"And be ready for anything, you never know what they might do," Biggs's nonchalant demeanor had faded to reveal an adolescent vulnerability that he, just as the majority of the X Series, rarely gave in to.
"Always," 494 said wryly, though both of them knew the matter was very far from amusing or ever lighthearted.
Biggs looked down at the floor after briefly making eye contact with 494. He was scared, just plain scared. Scared for his friend, scared for his unit, and scared for his own life.
Hell, 494 had kept their entire unit from falling into total and utter chaos; he was the one who kept 762's human nature in check around the guards, and then in the off hours prevented her from inevitably sinking into the secluded role of the outcast.
Then there was 787, who would self-destruct if 494 wasn't there to pull him up when he hit rock bottom after a kill.
Next there was 629, who was a real ass to everyone except his C.O., which of course, was 494. He wouldn't listen to anything anyone had to say, unless 494 was listening or had instructed him to do so.
534 was a sweet little assassin; she was as cold blooded as they came, in Biggs's opinion, but 494 had always been able to piss her off in a way in which forced her to show some emotion, yet not kill her Commanding Officer in rage. It was always amusing to see the two of them go at it.
But seriously, what were they going to do without 494 around? Even if it was only a temporary absence, which Biggs highly doubted, things were sure to get out of control amongst their unit. He could see it now, 787 getting deemed defective and thrown with anomalies and all of the other defective Xs, while 762 slumped into some sort of transgenic depression, while 629 pissed everyone off to the point where 534, the killing machine, was forced to rip his head off, literally.
They wouldn't even be granted the safe haven of Psy-Ops; they'd go down with the X2s, most likely. It sounded exaggerated, but seriously, once you thought about it, they hardly had a chance of survival without 494 around to keep them in check.
"I'll have to tell the others," 494 in a strangely trance-like tone, as of he wasn't truly living this reality. "They come back to the barracks soon, right?"
Biggs nodded distractedly. They sat in silence until the rest of their unit had returned.
"Fall in, soldiers," 494 commanded halfheartedly. He took in the thirteen young faces staring at him, standing at attention. He sighed in exasperation.
"I'm going to be," 494 paused, unsure whether or not to disclose the honest reason of his impending absence or to come up with a witty lie to entertain his unit. Biggs wouldn't tell anyone the truth, not if 494 didn't say anything first. That wouldn't be a bad idea.
"I'm being sent into a deep cover mission early tomorrow morning," 494 said convincingly, though Biggs shot him a discreet, though questioning, glance, which he caught out of the corner of his eye.
"I may or may not return," he continued, "and if and when I do, it may be quite some time from now. Manticore authority will undoubtedly attempt to assign a replacement Commanding Officer for this unit, but I'm leaving standing orders that your temporary Commanding Officer be of my choosing."
494 again paused here, taking in each and every member of his unit. He knew perfectly well who was going to take his place, but he felt like giving a long, dramatic, drawn out farewell speech. It amused him slightly, and he felt that any amusement on the brink of death was a good thing, and should be experienced at any cost.
"Your Commanding Officer until my return will be X5-521," 494 eyed Biggs as he gave the order that made him C.O., but he looked far from surprised. He'd obviously been expecting this, but 494 could've sworn he saw Biggs smile slightly at the new task he'd been given.
"I want every one of you to obey and respect 521 as you have myself. And 521 will undoubtedly take care of any problems or situation that arise." 494 was referring to each of the soldiers unique 'tendencies' and 'problems,' and Biggs nodded in affirmation, confirming that he could in fact handle the quirks of their unit.
"I'm seriously skeptical of the prospect of my return," 494 embellished, in order to make it believable when he was either murdered in Psy-Ops or died of extensive torture. "But I expect that if I do return, I'll be impressed with your status.
"Sir?" X5-629 asked tentatively. 494 approached him and stood with his arms crossed. He was drew himself up to his full height, to ensure that 629 was aware of his undeniable power. 629 swallowed hard, but stood his ground.
"Are you at liberty to share your mission parameters, in order to clarify the situation involving your absence?"
'Nice move, you nosy ass bastard," 494 thought amusedly. 629 had always been able to push any limits set for him with out breaking them, or even noticeably bending them. He had that gift of false innocence, like 494 had himself, only no one suspected 629's 'innocence' to be inadequate.
"I unfortunately am not able to indulge such information at this time. All that I can say is that it is very important that this mission be completed, though it may take the lives of many soldiers. And if my life is one of those taken, so be it." God, he was somewhat enjoying making this little mission up. It was serving to effectively take his mind off other, more serious things.
"All right soldiers; report to your respective quarters for lights out," 494 sighed. The soldiers saluted 494 and one by one, left as commanded. Biggs looked over his shoulder at his Commanding Officer, his friend, his brother, and nodded reassuringly. He then followed suit and exited.
494 stayed behind, looking around the room, taking it in. He was alone now, as he always was, always had been. He'd always though of it as both a blessing and a curse, loneliness. And that it was. To be alone means to have no companionship, no communication, no love. But to be alone also means no one to worry about, no one to care for, no one to feel responsible for, to feel emotions for. He still was unsure which was the more overbearing aspect of loneliness, the blessing or the curse, but such an answer still eluded him. He closed his eyes briefly before retreating into his own quarters for what would most likely prove to be the last time.
Shortly after lying on the pull out cot, 494 was greeted with the familiar 'Lights out, 494" from one of the sentry guards. And at that point he began to drift off to sleep.
One might think that it would be impossible to sleep under such circumstances, that the fear would be too great, the monstrous thoughts too oppressive. But for 494, it didn't matter. It was hell either way. He only assumed that it would be in his favor to be at his best to face whatever Manticore was preparing to throw at him the next day. And so he slept, the demons awaking and taking over in his slumber.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back in Terminal City, Max Guevara sat on the edge of her bed. She hadn't slept that night, though she probably could have do to all of the things going on lately. But it was too late to try to sleep now, even if she'd wanted to. It was almost 4:00 AM, and she wanted to get down to Command and see talk with Dix, Luke, Mole, Leg, and all of the others about what they planned on doing in the coming days on the transgenic front. But she really wanted to talk to Alec. She was comfortable with Alec, as she was with the others. But there was something different about him, something that allowed her to talk to him easily, without fear of saying the wrong thing. And besides, Alec did have 10 years of training on her, and he always struck her as a very knowledgeable soldier, even if she could kick his ass. She considered going down now, even though it was quesitonable that anyone could be there, because everyone had gone to their apartments in TC the pervious night to sleep or just get away, but she decided against going then. Too many things were going through her mind at too blinding of a speed to be able to halt them.
This whole transgenic stand off was going to get ugly. She could feel it. White and his cult loonies weren't going to give up anytime soon, that much was clear. They were going to fight until either they were killed, or all transgenics were wiped from the face of the earth; her in particular. And when she was dead, if the runes were true, everyone'd be screwed. And if they were wrong, who'd be there to lead the transgenics?
Well, the answer to that last question was obvious. No matter how much a jerk he'd seemed to be for so long, no matter how much he'd seemed to screw up her life, no matter how irresponsible he'd seemed in her eyes, Alec would always have her back. Alec would lead the transgenics if anything happened to her, she knew it. At one point she'd have laughed at the thought, one Alec wouldn't do it, he'd to self-centered, and two, if he actually would lead them, everyone was doomed, because he couldn't take care of himself, let alone anyone else, nor was he willing to. But Max had been viewing Alec in a slightly distorted image, so to speak, and her vision had cleared suddenly that night only a few weeks ago.
I'm sorry I inflicted you on the world.
God, she regretted those words. More than she could ever put into words. But hey, at that point, she'd still though he was a cold-blooded killer. Well, maybe she hadn't really believed it. The facts didn't add up, as Alec had pointed out after the fact; the fact that the murder was commited while Alec was still at Manticore waa major deter from his being guilty. But Max had detested Alec so much, and wanted him out of her life so badly, that she just wanted to believe that he'd killed the guy and she'd never see him again.
But, of course, the voice of reason tends to speak more forcefully than one would like it to. Especially when it's accompanied by such an expression as Alec had at that point. He'd lost all sarcasm, all playfullness, all, livelihood. He looked almost haunted, and even scared. And when she'd refused to believe him, he'd added a sort of angry desperation to the mix, and something in her snapped, just gave way to, to. to something. Something she could exactly explain. At first, she's thought it was that she couldn't bear to see her brother's face dead again, but, upon further inspection, she realized that wasn't entirely true.
She'd always suspected that Alec was more than meets the eye, and had realized how little she really knew him after the whole Berrisford incident. His intensity during that period had shocked her, but also slightly frightened her. But now, when Alec was facing almost certain death for a crime he couldn't have, and, if Max was honest with herself, wouldn't have committed, she couldn't leave him there.
And so the events that followed led to their fleeing to Max's apartment, where she'd learned more about Alec in one night than she'd learned in the months they'd been together after Manticore had burned. It'd been one of the most alleviating nights she could remember.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I killed him." Max said simply, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She could feel Alec change position next to her, but he didn't tense like she'd expected him to upon learning that she'd killed her own brother.
"He asked me to, so I did. And then I ran. I saved myself. And I just, left his body there for them to take away."
And then Alec did something so considerate, maybe even sweet; something Max didn't think he was even capable of. He put his arm around her, and pulled her closer to him, resting his head on hers. It was comforting, to say the least.
"Max, I'm sorry," He'd whispered to her. Her tears fell then, and heonly held her tighter. They'd sat there for a long time in silence, enjoying each other's prescence. And then Alec dared to break the somber serenity.
"It's okay, you know." Max turned her head and stared at him questioningly, not fully understanding his statement.
"What you did, with Ben," he seemed uncomfortable, but her continued.
"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, no matter how unthinkable they may seem, for the people that you care for, for the people that you love, and that love you back. Because in the long run, you know that, even if it kills you, for them, it's for the best."
Max just stared at him, stunned. He really was so much more than she gave him credit for. Hell, she never gave him credit for anything. She looked at him again, and, seeing that he was obviously embarrassed by what he'd said, decided to ask a queestion in response to his words.
"You're right. But I get the feeling you've had your own experiences with such a situation. Care to expand?" Max had asked him, though she wan't so sure it was a good idea. She'd been prodding as lightly as she could, though expecting that he'd turn cold, and tell her to stay the hell out of his business. But her feline curiousity got the best of her, and, even at the expense of whatever they'd managed to establish that night, she'd just had to know.
Alec turned sharply to look at her. His eyes were clouded, but, to Max's surprise, not with anger or hate. They were filled with, sadness. A very plain, very intense sadness. He looked trapped for a moment, but it quickly passed. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, speaking softly.
"When we were at the Berrisford's, I'd almost begged Berrisford to kill me. I'd deserved it, I'd hoped for it, in fact, I'd welcomed it. But as it was, it didn't work out the way I'd planned." He sighed again, but kept going.
"I was in love with Rachel, I think, but she'd never loved who I really was. She'd never loved X5-494, the soldier, the hunter, the killer. She'd loved who I pretended to be, before I knew any better. I'm still not exactly sure what love is, it all happened so fast back then. But even if I wasn't 'in love' with her, I loved her. I know that. And when I was in that room with her lifeless body, with all of her loving, happy, lively personality drained form her, and knowing that it was all my fault, I'd just wanted to die. And I think part of me did that day. But I apologized, I told her how I felt, I told her so much, yet so little. And then, she was gone. That was a hard blow." Alec looked like he might break down right there. Max wasn't entirely sure, but it looked as if there was a lone tear that had sneaked its way down his right cheek, which was facing away from her, but it was hard to tell. Alec took a shaky breath, and continued.
"I've been hoping that maybe she'd been had, you know, that unfinished business people talk about. That maybe she was still wondering what ever went on with me, what I'd done, how Id been able to fool them both. And I guess I've just held onto the hope that maybe she really did hear me, and accepted my apology, and knew that I really cared, that I loved her so much, that she'd been the one who'd taught me about love, the one who taught me how to love. And maybe with that, admittance, she'd been able to let go in peace. I can only hope and pray that that's true," he concluded in an almost inaudible whisper.
Once again, Max was shocked at Alec's openness. He'd never told her about Rachel, and though some of this small revelation made little sense to Max, she put together what had happened. And she was taken by surprise by that fact.
"She heard you Alec, I know she did." Max said softly. "And she believed you. And she did love you, until the day she died."
"How can you know?" Alec asked painfully.
"I just do. She held on for how long Alec? How long? She was waiting for something, waiting for you. She loved you, and she needed to know whether or not you still loved her, or if you ever did. And when you told her, she was finally able to let go. She was content. She was happy. It's a girl thing," she finished with a genuine smile.
Alec sighed again, a small smile playing at his own lips. He looked at Max and began speaking again.
"Thank you. I guess I needed to hear that."
Max nodded. "Any time. And thank you. I need someone to talk to about Ben,someone who would understand, everything."
"Any time, Maxie. Any time."Alec pulled her even closer to him, and Max moved into his embrace innocently, yet happily.
And so it was silent for another period of time. But this time, when the quiet was pleasently interrupted, it was Max who spoke.
"Can I ask you something, Alec?"
"Anything, Max," he said calmly. There had been a point not too long ago in which he'd have refused such a request, and they both knew it. But things had changed drastically in am amazingly short period of time, and they'd changed for what could only be the better.
"Are you still upset that I didn't let Berrisford kill you?" she said tentatively, awkwardly, almost afraid of the answer for reasons unknown to her.
Alec looked at her quesioningly, taken aback by her intense, very personal inquisition.
"No, Max," he stated, "I'm not." He seemed to be a bit disturbed that their conversation had veered onto this topic, and also extremely shocked that Max actually gave a shit whether had wanted to live or die. "Do you really think that I do?"
Max remained silent. She didn't want to do or say anything more that she would regret, because she already regretted bringing up the subject. It was too uncomfortable.
"I'll be honest with you Max," Alec said pointedly. "I was pissed right after it happened, that I wasn't dead. Because I deserved it. I didn't deserve freedom, hell, I didn't even deserve Manticore, I deserved death. But, I felt a little better afterwards, after I talked to Rachel, even though seeing Rachel like that was the hardest thing I'd ever done. But now, I guess I've learned a little more about the world, learned that not everything in this life is perfect, that it's usually far from it. But once you except that, that's when you can start living."
And he left it at that. It was obvious there was more that he could've said, but he stopped there. And it was enough. They sat there together in silence for the rest of the night, and no words were truly needed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That night, Max and Alec had become friends. They didn't harbor hostility toward one another any longer. They trusted each other. And, for Max at least, their veiws of one another had altered greatly.
'Alec, wonder if he's up.'
She knew Alec slept a lot, but he might be up. She hopped from the bed and sidled out of her room to his door. She knocked lightly, but there was no answer. 'Proabaly still asleep,' Max thought, but she wasn't convinced; something didn't feel right. She tried the doorknob, which was unlocked, inplying that he was inisde and, most likely awake. So, being the person she was, she turned the handle and entered. Only to find the room deserted.
A/N: Ok, yeah, stupid ending, I know, but next I didn't feel like making this chapter any longer. Oh, and BTW, yes, in my world, flashbacks within flashbacks exsist, and I hope I didn't confuse any of you too badly. I've got some of chapter three written, so hopefully it will be out sooner than this one. Hoped you liked this chapter!
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!
-AntipodeanOpaleye
By AntipodeanOpaleye
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from any other source either doesn't belong to me or is a purely coincidental occurrence. Anything that you've never seen probably belongs to me. I write for enjoyment and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Note: Wow! I made it to chapter two! That is amazing! I apologize for the wait, this chapter wasn't exactly easy to write, as I found out part way through. Also, thanks to all that reviewed! I really appreciate it! It makes writing that much easier! As I've said before: This is going to turn out as M/A, if you don't like that pairing, I suggest you don't read, though I will say that I'll do my best to avoid Logan bashing; though I don't mind reading it, I'm probably not going to write it. And, as always, if you read it, please review it; I love feedback, good or bad, just as long as it's relayed tactfully. Ok, enough with the boring rambling from me, I hope you like this chapter!
Also, if any one likes this fic enough, or is just completely obsessed with anything Dark Angel, I am looking for a beta reader. If you're interested, say so in a review.
Chapter Two: Memory
Alec sat there on the Needle; knees tucked up under his chin, deep in thought. He couldn't stay there long, he had to get back to Terminal City before he aroused suspicion, but hey, it was only about 2:45 AM, he could afford to stick around for a while. He took in his surroundings, jerking himself out of his thoughts, taking in the view of Seattle he had from there. For a broken city in a Post-Pulse country, it was somewhat beautiful.
Maybe he should've left when he'd had the chance, back after he and Max had sent those kids off to Canada. Yeah, after they sent them off to Canada. He'd planned to leave right after Max had taken over the situation, but then White got her. How could he have just left her there for him to take apart? Exposure wasn't even a factor in his decision to go back and get her out. It wasn't even a decision, really. But he never regretted staying to help her then, contrary to popular belief.
Then it'd been his turn to get picked up by Special Agent Ames White. It'd been his fault, of course, what with his cage fighting and such. And he was too damn, too damn, what? He was never a coward, never, and he prided himself in that. He was a competent man, he could take care of himself. But he'd never said he was fearless. And White, that first face-to-face meeting with him, scared him. Ames White was out to get the transgenics, he was out to kill every single one of Alec's kind. And at that time, that particular thought had frightened him. Things had changed since then, he no longer cowered from White, but at that point, death was coming, and if he could sweet talk his way out of it, he would. Alec had had too much experience with death not to be afraid. So he'd been stupid, made another deal with the Devil. Said he'd kill his own kind, out of his own fright, convinced White he was capable of doing so when he wasn't. And he'd been impulsive enough to believe White would just let him go kill these transgenics, no strings attached, and he'd be able to skip town before any one knew the difference.
Instead, White decided to place a micro explosive on his brain stem to bind him to the deal. Undoubtedly, even if he managed to kill three transgenics in a day, White didn't have enough decency to disarm the explosive and save one of the abominations that he was trying to destroy. But he might as well take the chance that White might keep his word. 'And bring in their barcodes. Proof of Purchase.' He heard White's words over and over. A somewhat perverted notion, bring in the barcodes, but hey, who was Alec to question the motives of a madman?
So, he started a hunt. He'd casually asked Max is she'd seen any transgenics lately, kept his cool. Then he found his first victim while helping to look for Joshua. He hadn't had much of a problem with "Cat Woman,' it'd been awkward, but he'd gone through with it.
Then there was the, he was an X5, maybe an X6; he'd been obviously been a subordinate of Alec's back at Manticore, seeing as he'd obviously recognized him and had addressed him as 'sir.' That'd been difficult. The kid was only trying to make it on the outside, just like he was, and neither of them had a clue on exactly how to live outside Manticore. He didn't have the heart to kill the kid, so he just sliced off the kid's barcode, blindly hoping that White wouldn't notice, as his time was running out.
And then he made the mistake of returning to ask for more time. Ask for more time, there's a laugh. And, of course, White had found out that he'd faltered, not being able to kill the young X he'd found. But Alec didn't give up, he just continued to plead for more time. He was denied. Oh, but what a marvelous consolation that the X would count towards his final total. He had a little over an hour to kill one more transgenic, and he had no clue where to find one. Might as well go find a bar a drown his sorrows until he died.
But then he met up with Max. He'd tried to reason with her, tried to explain his situation to her, but she was too self-centered, too absorbed in her own problems, such as finding Joshua. Joshua. She had a lead on Joshua. It felt wrong, but it was the only way. The only way.
He'd been ready. He was seriously going to kill Joshua. He'd been ready. But, of course, things couldn't work out. Joshua just happened to be the only transgenic without a barcode. And Alec needed a barcode to convince White. He started to finally except death and then,
Max.
He'd become obsessed with his own survival, his own well being. In a way, he was ready to kill her. But as he looked at her shaking form on the ground, as her looked into her eyes, breathing heavy, telling her that he didn't want to die, he snapped. He snapped, and for some strange reason he couldn't do it.
'No, Alec. You know why you couldn't do it.'
She'd taken him to the Manticore tech, the one who was curing her little virus so she and Logan could touch. He'd been short on cash, so Max had paid the difference, on account that he'd pay her back. But then the little weasel-like technician dropped the bomb; he was leaving town tonight, and Max had to choose whether she wanted him to finish her cure, or to save the notorious 'Smart Alec.' And she'd chosen to save him.
He still wasn't sure why. Once he found out about her whole sibling thing, he thought it could be that she didn't want the death of another transgenic on her hands, even if he was an idiot. Then he'd found out about Ben, and he thought that maybe it was that she didn't want to she that face, lifeless once again. But the fact that it was him, in exchange for the chance to be with the man she loved, astounded him.
She'd verbally bitch slapped him after he was in the clear, and told him to do her a favor, to go away. And so he did. But not before saying what was on his mind.
"I'm sorry, Maxie. I'm so sorry. For everything," he whispered into the night.
And he fell back into his thoughts of the past.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"You are an assassin, 494. Morally, you don't deserve to live."
"You are the perfect killer, 494. You should be proud."
"You're a lot like your brother, 494. 493 gained the same uncertainty as you have; the same uncertainty that is causing you to fail. If you don't change your ways, you will fall into the same habits as he did."
And so the memories intensified.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"X5-494," a female Manticore lab technician harshly called his designation, interrupting a particularly brutal outdoor sparring match between 494 and another male transgenic that he didn't know the designation of. 494 was beating the hell out of the other X5, and delivered one last blow to powerfully finish off the opposition. 494 stood up, unfazed by the amazingly strenuous battle he had just won hands down. He looked down at his victim, who was visibly having trouble breathing. As this was the last training session of the day, he really wo0uld have reveled in disfiguring his opponent a bit more severely, but knew that it wouldn't be wise to completely ignore the call of 'authority.' At this point, 494 turned his attention to the Manticore tech.
"494," she restated, and 494 folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head innocently, refusing to stand at attention and address her properly. She frowned at him, and met her with a very subtle pout that he'd perfected for no apparent reason in his spare time, along with a variety of other facial expressions that tended to work to his advantage with the Manticore technicians. The woman frowned again, but didn't comment on 494's display.
"Director Renfro requests your presence." Wordlessly, 494 followed the woman into the main facility, and then into Renfro's office, which, incidentally, was opposite the barracks. The platinum blonde was sitting at a large desk at the back of the room. She glanced from the black laptop that she'd been typing furiously on to address them.
"Thank you, Doctor," Renfro said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and the technician promptly left the room. As the door clicked shut, Renfro turned her full attention to 494.
"State your designation," she said, her eyes burning into the transgenic.
"X5-494, ma'am," 494 said in a blank tone, standing at attention, his eyes facing forward and void of emotion. She was the only one that he would address correctly, though she didn't deserve it. He addressed her suitably because, in a strange way, having some sort of an authority figure made him feel secure. He saw out of the corner of his eye something flicker on her face. Pride, perhaps? He didn't have time to dwell on it, because Renfro dove into conversation almost immediately.
"494, it's been a while since I've had the pleasure of seeing you. When was the last time? The Berrisford Assignment? Yes, I believe that was it, though I've been informed that you've shown significant progress since then, especially seeing as you gave no signs that the reindoctrination process had had any effect on you. We many never know." She'd been circling him through this entire oration, like a vulture enclosing its prey, and it was beginning to annoy 494. He was expected to stand at attention until order otherwise when in the Director's, presence, but to display his irritation, he relaxed, which stopped Renfro dead in her tracks. She smiled cryptically at 494 before continuing, and remaining in one spot.
"494, what do you know of coupled transgenics in the X Series?"
494 searched her features for a clue as to what form of answer she was looking for, but could find none. He dove in blindly, hoping that his efforts would impress the Director.
"My knowledge of twinned X5's is very limited, ma'am," 494 said blankly, though he eyed Renfro suspiciously as he continues. "I do know that they share select genetic combinations and well as appearance, and have similar designations." He left out any knowledge of his own twin, X5-493, though it was obvious that he knew of 493. How could he have gone through his Psy-Ops visit without figuring out why he'd been there?
"Very nice, 494." Renfro said, her voice impressed yet dripping with sarcasm at the same time. It sent a chill through 494, though a spectator wouldn't have been able to tell. He straightened as she sighed deeply and resumed speaking.
"494," she said authoritatively, "are you aware of the current status of X5- 493?"
"X5-493 escaped in from his facility 2009, along with X5-734, X5-210, X5- 471, X5-452, X5-701, X5-656, X5-205, and X5-599, all of whom were the only successful Manticore escapees that I am aware of. X5-493 was never recaptured, and, to the extent of my knowledge, his current whereabouts are unknown." 494 was curious as to what was so important about 493's location and status. He was a rogue transgenic, and an insubordinate soldier was of no use to Manticore. Even reindoctrination might not be enough to instill blind discipline into one that had betrayed Manticore so flagrantly. And what the hell was she asking him for?
"X5-493 is deceased, 494," Renfro stated bluntly, much to the surprise of 494. His eyes widened momentarily at the report, only to recede back into emptiness seconds later. Renfro continued, oblivious of this change in expression.
"He was found dead in a wooded area outside of Manticore. Cause of death was deemed an intentionally dismembered neck. But that is unimportant." She paused, her eyes burning into 494's face as she arched her head slightly in order to see him clearly. "Did you know that 493 was what Manticore consultants would define as insane?"
494's expression visibly changed now, and Renfro would've had to be blind not to notice. He slowly shifted his gaze downward to meet the shorter woman's gaze in a more personal way. His eyes widened as he abandoned his semi-formal stance to rub the bridge of his nose in dreading anticipation of what was to come of this conversation and to absentmindedly run a nervous strand of fingers through his sweaty, dirty blonde hair. After doing so, he crossed his arms and addressed Renfro's obviously rhetorical, yet unanswered question.
"I was unaware of X5-493's mental instability until now, ma'am."
"Of course you were, 494," Renfro barked agitatedly. She looked at 494 again, trying to see something past the emotionless soldier that was standing in front of her. Finding no indication of any thought from 494, she sighed and settled for an instinctive inquisition instead of the more informed questioning that she was hoping for.
"You know where this is going, don't you 494?" she asked, in he characteristic sickening sweet voice that dripped with mocking. He knew she wanted a straightforward answer, so that is what he provided her with.
"Yes, ma'am," he stated softly, "I have an informed opinion of what this conversation is leading to."
Renfro nodded. "Seeing that your DNA is twinned with that of 494, we're going to need to take you into Psy-Ops for more in-depth psychological evaluation than that you received after the '09 escape. Plan on an extended absence from daily training. As this is a pressing matter, but not exceedingly urgent, I suggest you return to the barracks, give any remaining orders, or revise any standing orders in light of this situation, in the case of your unit. I expect you to report back here tomorrow morning at the standard arousal hour."
494 didn't need to be told twice. He saluted the Director obediently, and promptly left for the barracks. He was hoping that they'd be deserted, so that he wouldn't have to waste time explaining anything to his unit, but, unfortunately, three soldiers were in the barracks when 494 arrived. Two of them, the female X5-717 and the male X5-891, saluted 494, their Commanding Officer, and quickly left for some sort of training; weapons if 494 wasn't mistaken. After they had gone, 494 looked down at the remaining transgenic. You couldn't tell at first glance, but he was different from the others. He was the only one that 494 had really become, well, friends with. They were more like brothers, more like family, regardless of the fact that Manticore highly disapproved of such emotional bonding. His designation, X5-521, had been long discarded by 494, in fact, 494 could still remember the day that the transgenic had disregarded his bar-coded identity.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Soldier!" 494 had shouted at the young transgenic. He was 13, at least, 494 thought he was 13. Not that the boy's age had anything to do with the situation at hand. He'd been displaying disobedience since his last Solo Mission and, at this point, 494 was required to speak with him privately. "What is this traitorous notion of yours to neglect your Manticore given identity?"
The boy looked up at 494, decidedly meeting his eyes. "They don't have numbers on the outside. They have names. Why else do they give us aliases for Solo missions?"
494 was shocked. Not only at this boy's obvious problem with his authority, but at his resolve to be his own person. 494 knew that the individuals Manticore had made them into were something to be proud of, but this boy did have a valid point. The boy continued before 494 could retaliate.
"For example, when I went to Los Angeles for a mission last month, I was Michael Biggs. Why aren't we numbers on the outside if Manticore isn't hiding reality from us? I don't care what anyone else says; from now on, I'm Biggs, at least when no one else is around, like Manticore Techs, or Lydecker. Lydecker when he abandons his precious Gillette children to supervise us, that is. " "Biggs said with distaste. He looked ready to elaborate on the topic, but thought better of it.
He was decided, and obviously pissed at Lydecker, and 494 knew that he couldn't change the boy's mind, especially if he wasn't thinking clearly due to his aggression.
"As you wish. Biggs it is. But in private only, no one else will know, not Manticore, not the other soldiers, not even the rest of our unit. This is between us." 'Biggs' nodded, understanding the consequences they would both face if anyone found out, and seeming to accept this compromise willingly. Security was tightening more and more since to '09 escape. After that night, 494 began to use his spare time to some up with his own name, yet such efforts had been abandoned after the Berrisford Mission. It wasn't that he didn't like the idea of individuality; it was just that he didn't need Manticore breathing down his throat if he could help it. Besides, he had more important things to worry about now..
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Now, approximately seven years after that occurrence, 494 was brought back to reality. He met Biggs's gaze as he slumped into his bunk, throwing his head backward in frustration.
"Hey man," Biggs said, "I haven't seen you this depressed since you got back from your extended stay in isolation." Biggs was trying to lighten the mood, but was obviously concerned about his best friend's melancholy state. Much more serious now, Biggs continued cautiously. "What's up?"
494 sighed dejectedly. "They're sending me back to Psy-Ops, man, all because of that bastard twin of mine, 493. He went psycho on the outside, and they're just waiting to find a genetic link to his mental instability in his unfortunate double."
"Jeeze, bro, that's harsh. Did they say how long you'd be there?" Biggs' voice lowered to an inaudible whisper, able to be heard only by the enhanced hearing that all transgenics shared.
"Renfro said to expect a long vacation from daily training. I was ready to kill the blonde bitch by that point."
Suddenly, 494 sat bolt upright, eyes widening in an unspoken anxiousness that surprised Biggs. He knew that 494 would show emotion around him, though not around anyone else, but never to such an extreme.
"Biggs?" he asked tentatively, his voice a trembling whisper that 494 had acquired after the Berrisford Mission. Biggs had never heard him so desperate, but he knew this tone must be signaling that 494 was, in short, terrified more than words could express. Biggs directed his attention to 494, curious as to what had cracked his usually composed friend. 494 swallowed hard and continued.
"Do, do you think they'll get rid of me? I mean, they've been really close to it before, or at least, they'd do stuff to me that they hoped would kill me, that should've killed me. Do you think they'll just up and finish the job this time?"
Biggs was obviously shocked at 494's open panic, though he his it well. 494 was the light-hearted, up-beat, smart ass Commanding Officer that everyone knew and, in some strange military sense, loved. It scared Biggs to see him like this, but he knew that if he didn't help to reassure his friend, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, especially if 494 was indeed killed in the near future.
"It's gonna be all right, man, trust me." Biggs tried his best to sound convincing. He was unnerved by his friend's instability, but felt that he had to say something. He'd never seen 494 so. vulnerable. Oh sure, he'd seen "emotionless", frustrated, nervous, unsure, and, most frequently, royally pissed off, but never so lost. He looked sick, maybe it was it was because he'd so gone pale, Biggs wasn't sure.
"Biggs?" 494 asked again. Biggs looked almost afraid of what would follow. "Could you do me a favor?"
"Yeah man, anything," Biggs croaked.
494's eyes brightened visibly as he continued. "You were always, so, so," 494 searched for the suitable term, going on without indicating his aforementioned request. "You were always so different. Even when we were little. I remember when that guard insulted your fighting style, what were we, 13 or so? 14 maybe? And you just blew up and, I guess you'd heard the guards say it, or something, but you told that guard to "Screw Yourself, Asshole," if I remember correctly. Promptly knocking him out afterwards, of course." 494 stopped and smirked at the mental image the memory produced. Unfortunately, Biggs took the pause as an invitation to speak.
"Yeah," he said pointedly, "but when the Sub-Director arrived for her daily inspection, and she found her guard knocked unconscious, she wasn't too happy. I thought I was going into reindoc for sure. She was pissed.."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Soldiers!" Sub Director Davis shouted at the unit of X5s that had been temporarily left unsupervised on the training field. She was obviously appalled at the lack of order. The soldiers immediately stood at attention once noting her presence. She strode in front of the group agitatedly, eyeing each of them suspiciously. Her gaze settled on Biggs, then moved reluctantly to each of the other soldiers in turn. She turned back to Biggs who was situated at one end of the line of fourteen. 494 was at the opposite end of the line.
"State your designation," she barked. At the words, Biggs tensed, but quickly complied.
"X5-521," he said clearly, and Davis moved to the soldier to his right. Her gaze immediately requested the same revelation of the next genetically enhanced warrior.
"X5-717," she said.
Down the line the Sub Director went each of the soldiers yelling out their respective designations.
"X5-534!"
"X5-762!"
"X5-647!"
"X5-891!"
"X5-576!"
"X5-787!"
"X5-583!"
"X5-811!"
"X5-629!"
"X5-825!"
"X5-746!"
"X5-494!"
Davis look at 494 curiously.
"494, is it?" she questioned him, and he simply eyed her silently.
"Which of you serves as Commanding Officer of this unit?" she barked, and 494 strode forward. Davis eyed him again.
"Commanding Officer X5-494," he shouted.
"494," Davis sneered, "I'd like to have a word with you."
494 followed the Sub Director out of the area, many curious and even apprehensive gazes tailing him from the other X5s in his unit. Hell, he wasn't looking forward to 'having a word' with the Sub Director either, but he marched behind her, expressionless, secretly shooting reassuring glances at a select few of the soldiers.
762 was one of the more human soldiers in his unit, or, at least, she let her humanity show more. Her eyes had grown wide at the sight of her Commanding Officer being taken away once again, leaving her without any form of stability. She was an outcast in the unit, but 494 had always tried to make her feel useful. On his way out, 494 flashed one of his priceless smiles at her, and she visibly relaxed at the gesture.
494 walked farther down the line and passed 787. 787 was a wonderful soldier. He was perfect or near it in almost every aspect of training. Almost. He had only one flaw. He had trouble with the main aspect of Manticore: assassination. Of course, he'd killed, but he wasn't as composed about such an act as the others were. Most of the soldiers killed because Manticore had told them to, and Manticore was the law, Manticore was everything, Manticore was life. 787 killed because if he didn't, one way or another, he'd be the one who ended up dead. After every kill, he'd become silent and closed off, even more so than a Manticore soldier usually was. But 494 always tried to pull him out of it, to break him out of his own prison. He'd talk him out of it eventually, only to be met with the same challenge sometimes only days later. 494 passed 787, whose face was blank but his eyes were posing an infinite number of questions to his Commanding Officer. 494 looked at him and nodded, seeming to answer 787's unspoken inquiry. He gave him a subtle grin, and continued to walk.
At the end of the line, 494 made eye contact with Biggs. Biggs had gone a bit pale; knowing that 494 was on thin ice with the Manticore administrators, and only being able to imagine what was in store for 494 after this. He was trembling slightly; obviously remorseful for his thoughtless display, which had led to this occurrence. 494 stared at Biggs for a long time, almost pausing to do so. As he passed in front of Biggs, 494 muttered a request, in an inaudible whisper that only the closest transgenic would be able to decipher.
"Take care of things while I'm gone."
Biggs nodded solemnly. He looked taken aback at 494's blunt plea, and confused as well; 494 hadn't done anything, why should he be gone for long? But he was resolute to carry out his new duty. 494 continued to follow the Sub Director obediently, and was soon out of sight of the rest of the unit.
Davis led 494 away from the training area to a small, enclosed research facility on the grounds, which had been cleared out when a new one had been built in the main facility. She opened the unlocked door and walked in with 494 at her heels. She slammed the door and locked from the inside, turning to face 494.
"So, X5-494? You're twinned with one of the '09 escapees?"
"Yes ma'am. My DNA is twinned with that of X5-493 of the '09 escape."
"Interesting, 494, very interesting."
494 stood motionless as the Sub Director evaluated him silently.
"Exactly how, 494, was your unit's guard attacked, and under what circumstances?"
494 was momentarily surprised that she didn't simply demand a straight-out explanation from him, but recovered immediately, realizing her approach. 494 assumed that she was going to ask him irrelevant questions, avoiding the obvious topic of discussion, trying to get him to divulge as much true information as she could. He didn't blame her; there was never any proof against him, but there'd been many incidences in the past, though minor compared to the one at present, where 494 had been suspected of taking the fall for his unit, and lying to authority in order to do so. But he wouldn't conform to her tactics, he couldn't, or else Manticore would win, and that wasn't acceptable.
"The said guard was attacked after provocation in the form of a insult of the X5 fighting style, of which we have been instructed to take immeasurable pride in; to always hone our skills to perfection. We have done so, and feel that it is intolerable to have our abilities slandered."
Sub Director Davis smirked malevolently at 494's false obedience. If she didn't know better, she'd probably think that he really was the perfect soldier, both physically and mentally. His display was flawless, and exceedingly convincing. The only deterring factor was his slightly marred record, defaced by his numerous suspensions from training for moderate isolated punishment after undoubtedly protecting his unit from their own insubordination.
"494, don't think I don't know that you will falsely testify to my authority in order to protect your unit. It's something you've been known to do, protect. I'm not sure why, but as it's been proven that you are a loyal Manticore soldier, it doesn't worry me to any extreme. So, I'll ask you one more question, just one, and I want a single designation from you. I don't care which it is, or even if it is truthful, but it is protocol that I punish at least one soldier for such a display." She paused briefly, for dramatic effect, 494 assumed, but continued.
"Which soldier attacked their guard during a the brief period they were unsupervised during training?"
"Commanding Officer X5-494, ma'am." 494 answered without hesitation.
"Well, 494," Davis said, seeming a bit bewildered at his willingness to possibly sacrifice his own well-being for the safety of his unit, "looks like you'll be spending another week or so in confined punishment. I may even have to heighten the level from moderate to extensive. But look on the bright side, 494, at least it's not Psy-Ops, or Reindoctrination."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
494 tensed at the mention of the past occurrence, and at the memory that flashed through his head. He'd never let his unit realize that he's taken the blame for their mistakes; the mere thought of it made him feel, well, it made him feel strange. Biggs wasn't to be fooled so easily, though.
"What is it man?" Biggs asked obliviously. "I mean, they said that you were in for Officer Training for those next two weeks, that you'd be gone." Realization finally dawned upon Biggs as he slowly came to comprehend that 494 hadn't attended any type of training during that time. "I wondered why you looked so sick when you came back, I thought that is was just the training, that it had been more intense than usual." Biggs swallowed hard before posing the obvious question. "You took the fall for me, didn't you?"
494 just stared at him, his eyes relaying any answer that Biggs was looking for. Biggs didn't stop there, though. "It wasn't the first time, though, was it?"
"No," 494 said quietly, "it wasn't the first. Far from it, in fact."
Biggs didn't need to ask his friend what had happened during each of situations in which 494 had taken the blame for one of them; he a good idea without any confirmation. But he wasn't silent.
"Why?" Biggs croaked. 494 looked at him questioningly, so he clarified his inquisition. "Why'd you protect us? Why did you put yourself through that for us?" Biggs was getting angry, intertwining his fingers and staring at the ground. If 494 had taken the wrath for everything their unit had just thought of as a 'lucky break' from punishment, he'd been through more of Manticore's shit than Biggs had previously imagined as survivable.
Hell, 494 had been in Psy-Ops for six months when they were nine, being the twin of an '09 escapee, and then with the extra disciplinary measures they took to avoid another escape on top of that? It was enough to make even an X5 go off the deep end. Biggs had even heard of a few of the X5s who had gone through the same thing after the escape and actually had gone crazy. They'd been deemed defective, of course, and joined the rest of the defective X's, or so he'd heard. But it didn't stop there for 494, no; he'd obviously taken the blame for his unit innumerable times, and in consequence, had endured the subsequent punishments. Damn, then there was the Berrisford thing just recently, that was harsh. Biggs had later found out that he's spent three weeks in isolation, a Manticore record, and had been shipped directly to reindoctrination in no condition to be prodded at. But that didn't matter to any of the staff down there. After he's been brainwashed to satisfaction; it had taken a few months, but 494 hadn't been able to keep track of time very well while there; he was sent to Psy-Ops, and his stay there was far from bearable, and even Director Renfro was surprised he'd survived.
"Why'd you put your own life on the line for ours?" Biggs suddenly broke the silence again, staring his friend straight in the eye, demanding an answer from him. Demanding the truth.
494 sighed. "That was never an issue. I was your Commanding Officer, I still am. I take care of this unit, these people. Your lives go before mine without question; that's my duty. But, it was more than that. By then, I'd become, protective, I guess, of all of you. I didn't want to see any of you hurt in the ways I knew they would hurt you; I didn't want any of you to see the things I'd already been forced to see. So I figured, if I could keep just one more soldier from being subjected to the pain, the torture, and the fear, I just thought that it would be better that way. In my mind, it was never my worth compared to yours, that was never a question. It was different, I don't know how to explain it. But, I guess I did what I did out of, a, a sense of family, and, I guess, I guess," 494 tried to avoid finishing the statement, embarrassed by the emotions triggered by the conversation. He felt cornered, and he didn't like it. But Biggs wouldn't let get him out so easily.
"What was it?" he asked forcefully. "Was it duty? Was it guilt? Was it compassion? What?"
494's eyes shot up at the last suggestion. "I, I, I guess it was. I guess that's what it is. Compassion."
Biggs nodded. For some reason, it felt good to hear his friend admit such feelings, to admit to his own humanity. He stared at his friend hard, an uncomfortable silence settling between them, each man deeply immersed in thought. Thinking of the past, of their childhood, of the present situation they were both in, and of what in the hell would go wrong in the future. Which trigged a vocalization from one of the young men.
"You never finished," Biggs whispered tentatively. 494's head snapped upward to stare at his friend, and after a few moments, he finally responded to Biggs statement.
"Wha, what?" 494 knew exactly what Biggs was hinting at, but after everything that had just transpired, and the memories and emotions that had been triggered, he wasn't sure if he had the energy or the will to continue with his previous train of thought.
"Earlier," Biggs said without meeting 494's eyes, "you asked me if I could do you a favor. What did you want?"
494 was silent for a while, contemplating whether or not to address the issue. He felt torn. He seriously didn't want to get into this now, and regretted even mentioning anything along the lines of request from Biggs. Sure, he was close with Biggs, but 494 didn't depend on anything, or anyone, for anything; why should he start now? He didn't need anyone, he never did, except.
No, he didn't need anyone.
But then, on the other hand, he was preparing to walk into the unknown depths of Manticore in merely minutes and, though that aspect of his situation didn't bother him too badly, the fact the he may die, and no one would ever give a shit, no one would ever care, terrified him. Hell, the fact that he was so terrified? That terrified him even more. Oh, and the fact that he was a twenty year old genetically engineered soldier worrying about his impending death because his twin had become a murdering psychopath? That was terrifying too. After resolving not to think excessively over the more frightening aspects of his life, 494 returned to his original train of thought.
He was approaching almost certain death, or at least, torture no being would want to live through. What would it matter if he actually depended on someone to do something for him, especially if he was incapable of doing it himself? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"What did you want?" Biggs asked again, more urgently.
494 sighed. "You know that I don't depend on other people to do what I can do better myself," he flashed one of his trademark gins at that point, thought it was obviously forced. "But, you're different, and I know that I can trust you with this. And it's going to sound extremely, well, childish, and wishful, but it's something that I need you to at least try to do for me."
Biggs nodded, just wanting 494 to get on with it, but knowing better than to piss him off by saying anything.
"If you ever get a chance to, you know, get out in the world, live your own life, live free, without Manticore on your ass, live it up." Biggs looked confused, so 494 continued. "I always thought that it'd be really great on the outside. You know; do whatever you wanted whenever you wanted, all day every day. Free to do your own thing; go hang out, charm the ladies, drink enough to get a pretty heavy hangover, and sleep until whenever the next morning. It'd be like a permanent deep cover mission, just that you'd never have to check in with anyone, or give your mission status to any of your superiors. There wouldn't be any superiors." 494 glanced over at Biggs, who seemed to be immersed in the possibilities of 494's description of life on the outside. Smiling slightly at his friend's reaction, he continued.
"But after the everything with Ra- I mean, the Berrisford Mission," 494 had never described his relationship with Rachel in any depth or detail with Biggs, though it'd been mentioned many times between them. "I guess I just realized, for the first time, that there was more to life than orders, punishments, and designations, but there was also more to life than my ideas of girls, parties, and enjoyment. I know it sounds crazy, I mean, ideally, who wouldn't want a life full of that, without any accountability for anything? But, when you think about it, considering what we really know about the outside, what would life be without responsibility, expectations from yourself and those around you, commitment? The things that are worth having are worth working for. It sounds cliché, but it's true. The best things in life take loyalty and dedication, and they involve a lot of risks. But that's just my view on things." 494 seemed embarrassed at his small oration on such a topic, but continued softly.
"Biggs, if you ever get out, live life to the fullest. Make a real life for yourself, start fresh. Enjoy life as people are meant to enjoy it. Enjoy what we've been deprived of since birth. Because I don't think I'll ever get the chance to." He continued to stare at the floor in silence after that. After a few tense moments, Biggs broke the wordlessness.
"I will." Biggs said simply, though his voice was distant. "I swear I will."
494 looked a bit taken aback at Biggs's quick consent, and at his serious disposition towards 494's horribly childish request. Not knowing exactly what to say, he simply said, "Thank you."
Biggs nodded in response, and muttered a barely audible "No problem," to 494.
494 rose to his feet, smoothing out his camouflage military pants and ruffling his hair. He approached Biggs, who had also resumed at standing position. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged before meeting the other young man's eyes.
"Don't come back dead," Biggs said simply.
"Not a chance," 494 replied just as casually.
"And be ready for anything, you never know what they might do," Biggs's nonchalant demeanor had faded to reveal an adolescent vulnerability that he, just as the majority of the X Series, rarely gave in to.
"Always," 494 said wryly, though both of them knew the matter was very far from amusing or ever lighthearted.
Biggs looked down at the floor after briefly making eye contact with 494. He was scared, just plain scared. Scared for his friend, scared for his unit, and scared for his own life.
Hell, 494 had kept their entire unit from falling into total and utter chaos; he was the one who kept 762's human nature in check around the guards, and then in the off hours prevented her from inevitably sinking into the secluded role of the outcast.
Then there was 787, who would self-destruct if 494 wasn't there to pull him up when he hit rock bottom after a kill.
Next there was 629, who was a real ass to everyone except his C.O., which of course, was 494. He wouldn't listen to anything anyone had to say, unless 494 was listening or had instructed him to do so.
534 was a sweet little assassin; she was as cold blooded as they came, in Biggs's opinion, but 494 had always been able to piss her off in a way in which forced her to show some emotion, yet not kill her Commanding Officer in rage. It was always amusing to see the two of them go at it.
But seriously, what were they going to do without 494 around? Even if it was only a temporary absence, which Biggs highly doubted, things were sure to get out of control amongst their unit. He could see it now, 787 getting deemed defective and thrown with anomalies and all of the other defective Xs, while 762 slumped into some sort of transgenic depression, while 629 pissed everyone off to the point where 534, the killing machine, was forced to rip his head off, literally.
They wouldn't even be granted the safe haven of Psy-Ops; they'd go down with the X2s, most likely. It sounded exaggerated, but seriously, once you thought about it, they hardly had a chance of survival without 494 around to keep them in check.
"I'll have to tell the others," 494 in a strangely trance-like tone, as of he wasn't truly living this reality. "They come back to the barracks soon, right?"
Biggs nodded distractedly. They sat in silence until the rest of their unit had returned.
"Fall in, soldiers," 494 commanded halfheartedly. He took in the thirteen young faces staring at him, standing at attention. He sighed in exasperation.
"I'm going to be," 494 paused, unsure whether or not to disclose the honest reason of his impending absence or to come up with a witty lie to entertain his unit. Biggs wouldn't tell anyone the truth, not if 494 didn't say anything first. That wouldn't be a bad idea.
"I'm being sent into a deep cover mission early tomorrow morning," 494 said convincingly, though Biggs shot him a discreet, though questioning, glance, which he caught out of the corner of his eye.
"I may or may not return," he continued, "and if and when I do, it may be quite some time from now. Manticore authority will undoubtedly attempt to assign a replacement Commanding Officer for this unit, but I'm leaving standing orders that your temporary Commanding Officer be of my choosing."
494 again paused here, taking in each and every member of his unit. He knew perfectly well who was going to take his place, but he felt like giving a long, dramatic, drawn out farewell speech. It amused him slightly, and he felt that any amusement on the brink of death was a good thing, and should be experienced at any cost.
"Your Commanding Officer until my return will be X5-521," 494 eyed Biggs as he gave the order that made him C.O., but he looked far from surprised. He'd obviously been expecting this, but 494 could've sworn he saw Biggs smile slightly at the new task he'd been given.
"I want every one of you to obey and respect 521 as you have myself. And 521 will undoubtedly take care of any problems or situation that arise." 494 was referring to each of the soldiers unique 'tendencies' and 'problems,' and Biggs nodded in affirmation, confirming that he could in fact handle the quirks of their unit.
"I'm seriously skeptical of the prospect of my return," 494 embellished, in order to make it believable when he was either murdered in Psy-Ops or died of extensive torture. "But I expect that if I do return, I'll be impressed with your status.
"Sir?" X5-629 asked tentatively. 494 approached him and stood with his arms crossed. He was drew himself up to his full height, to ensure that 629 was aware of his undeniable power. 629 swallowed hard, but stood his ground.
"Are you at liberty to share your mission parameters, in order to clarify the situation involving your absence?"
'Nice move, you nosy ass bastard," 494 thought amusedly. 629 had always been able to push any limits set for him with out breaking them, or even noticeably bending them. He had that gift of false innocence, like 494 had himself, only no one suspected 629's 'innocence' to be inadequate.
"I unfortunately am not able to indulge such information at this time. All that I can say is that it is very important that this mission be completed, though it may take the lives of many soldiers. And if my life is one of those taken, so be it." God, he was somewhat enjoying making this little mission up. It was serving to effectively take his mind off other, more serious things.
"All right soldiers; report to your respective quarters for lights out," 494 sighed. The soldiers saluted 494 and one by one, left as commanded. Biggs looked over his shoulder at his Commanding Officer, his friend, his brother, and nodded reassuringly. He then followed suit and exited.
494 stayed behind, looking around the room, taking it in. He was alone now, as he always was, always had been. He'd always though of it as both a blessing and a curse, loneliness. And that it was. To be alone means to have no companionship, no communication, no love. But to be alone also means no one to worry about, no one to care for, no one to feel responsible for, to feel emotions for. He still was unsure which was the more overbearing aspect of loneliness, the blessing or the curse, but such an answer still eluded him. He closed his eyes briefly before retreating into his own quarters for what would most likely prove to be the last time.
Shortly after lying on the pull out cot, 494 was greeted with the familiar 'Lights out, 494" from one of the sentry guards. And at that point he began to drift off to sleep.
One might think that it would be impossible to sleep under such circumstances, that the fear would be too great, the monstrous thoughts too oppressive. But for 494, it didn't matter. It was hell either way. He only assumed that it would be in his favor to be at his best to face whatever Manticore was preparing to throw at him the next day. And so he slept, the demons awaking and taking over in his slumber.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Back in Terminal City, Max Guevara sat on the edge of her bed. She hadn't slept that night, though she probably could have do to all of the things going on lately. But it was too late to try to sleep now, even if she'd wanted to. It was almost 4:00 AM, and she wanted to get down to Command and see talk with Dix, Luke, Mole, Leg, and all of the others about what they planned on doing in the coming days on the transgenic front. But she really wanted to talk to Alec. She was comfortable with Alec, as she was with the others. But there was something different about him, something that allowed her to talk to him easily, without fear of saying the wrong thing. And besides, Alec did have 10 years of training on her, and he always struck her as a very knowledgeable soldier, even if she could kick his ass. She considered going down now, even though it was quesitonable that anyone could be there, because everyone had gone to their apartments in TC the pervious night to sleep or just get away, but she decided against going then. Too many things were going through her mind at too blinding of a speed to be able to halt them.
This whole transgenic stand off was going to get ugly. She could feel it. White and his cult loonies weren't going to give up anytime soon, that much was clear. They were going to fight until either they were killed, or all transgenics were wiped from the face of the earth; her in particular. And when she was dead, if the runes were true, everyone'd be screwed. And if they were wrong, who'd be there to lead the transgenics?
Well, the answer to that last question was obvious. No matter how much a jerk he'd seemed to be for so long, no matter how much he'd seemed to screw up her life, no matter how irresponsible he'd seemed in her eyes, Alec would always have her back. Alec would lead the transgenics if anything happened to her, she knew it. At one point she'd have laughed at the thought, one Alec wouldn't do it, he'd to self-centered, and two, if he actually would lead them, everyone was doomed, because he couldn't take care of himself, let alone anyone else, nor was he willing to. But Max had been viewing Alec in a slightly distorted image, so to speak, and her vision had cleared suddenly that night only a few weeks ago.
I'm sorry I inflicted you on the world.
God, she regretted those words. More than she could ever put into words. But hey, at that point, she'd still though he was a cold-blooded killer. Well, maybe she hadn't really believed it. The facts didn't add up, as Alec had pointed out after the fact; the fact that the murder was commited while Alec was still at Manticore waa major deter from his being guilty. But Max had detested Alec so much, and wanted him out of her life so badly, that she just wanted to believe that he'd killed the guy and she'd never see him again.
But, of course, the voice of reason tends to speak more forcefully than one would like it to. Especially when it's accompanied by such an expression as Alec had at that point. He'd lost all sarcasm, all playfullness, all, livelihood. He looked almost haunted, and even scared. And when she'd refused to believe him, he'd added a sort of angry desperation to the mix, and something in her snapped, just gave way to, to. to something. Something she could exactly explain. At first, she's thought it was that she couldn't bear to see her brother's face dead again, but, upon further inspection, she realized that wasn't entirely true.
She'd always suspected that Alec was more than meets the eye, and had realized how little she really knew him after the whole Berrisford incident. His intensity during that period had shocked her, but also slightly frightened her. But now, when Alec was facing almost certain death for a crime he couldn't have, and, if Max was honest with herself, wouldn't have committed, she couldn't leave him there.
And so the events that followed led to their fleeing to Max's apartment, where she'd learned more about Alec in one night than she'd learned in the months they'd been together after Manticore had burned. It'd been one of the most alleviating nights she could remember.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"I killed him." Max said simply, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She could feel Alec change position next to her, but he didn't tense like she'd expected him to upon learning that she'd killed her own brother.
"He asked me to, so I did. And then I ran. I saved myself. And I just, left his body there for them to take away."
And then Alec did something so considerate, maybe even sweet; something Max didn't think he was even capable of. He put his arm around her, and pulled her closer to him, resting his head on hers. It was comforting, to say the least.
"Max, I'm sorry," He'd whispered to her. Her tears fell then, and heonly held her tighter. They'd sat there for a long time in silence, enjoying each other's prescence. And then Alec dared to break the somber serenity.
"It's okay, you know." Max turned her head and stared at him questioningly, not fully understanding his statement.
"What you did, with Ben," he seemed uncomfortable, but her continued.
"Sometimes you have to make sacrifices, no matter how unthinkable they may seem, for the people that you care for, for the people that you love, and that love you back. Because in the long run, you know that, even if it kills you, for them, it's for the best."
Max just stared at him, stunned. He really was so much more than she gave him credit for. Hell, she never gave him credit for anything. She looked at him again, and, seeing that he was obviously embarrassed by what he'd said, decided to ask a queestion in response to his words.
"You're right. But I get the feeling you've had your own experiences with such a situation. Care to expand?" Max had asked him, though she wan't so sure it was a good idea. She'd been prodding as lightly as she could, though expecting that he'd turn cold, and tell her to stay the hell out of his business. But her feline curiousity got the best of her, and, even at the expense of whatever they'd managed to establish that night, she'd just had to know.
Alec turned sharply to look at her. His eyes were clouded, but, to Max's surprise, not with anger or hate. They were filled with, sadness. A very plain, very intense sadness. He looked trapped for a moment, but it quickly passed. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, speaking softly.
"When we were at the Berrisford's, I'd almost begged Berrisford to kill me. I'd deserved it, I'd hoped for it, in fact, I'd welcomed it. But as it was, it didn't work out the way I'd planned." He sighed again, but kept going.
"I was in love with Rachel, I think, but she'd never loved who I really was. She'd never loved X5-494, the soldier, the hunter, the killer. She'd loved who I pretended to be, before I knew any better. I'm still not exactly sure what love is, it all happened so fast back then. But even if I wasn't 'in love' with her, I loved her. I know that. And when I was in that room with her lifeless body, with all of her loving, happy, lively personality drained form her, and knowing that it was all my fault, I'd just wanted to die. And I think part of me did that day. But I apologized, I told her how I felt, I told her so much, yet so little. And then, she was gone. That was a hard blow." Alec looked like he might break down right there. Max wasn't entirely sure, but it looked as if there was a lone tear that had sneaked its way down his right cheek, which was facing away from her, but it was hard to tell. Alec took a shaky breath, and continued.
"I've been hoping that maybe she'd been had, you know, that unfinished business people talk about. That maybe she was still wondering what ever went on with me, what I'd done, how Id been able to fool them both. And I guess I've just held onto the hope that maybe she really did hear me, and accepted my apology, and knew that I really cared, that I loved her so much, that she'd been the one who'd taught me about love, the one who taught me how to love. And maybe with that, admittance, she'd been able to let go in peace. I can only hope and pray that that's true," he concluded in an almost inaudible whisper.
Once again, Max was shocked at Alec's openness. He'd never told her about Rachel, and though some of this small revelation made little sense to Max, she put together what had happened. And she was taken by surprise by that fact.
"She heard you Alec, I know she did." Max said softly. "And she believed you. And she did love you, until the day she died."
"How can you know?" Alec asked painfully.
"I just do. She held on for how long Alec? How long? She was waiting for something, waiting for you. She loved you, and she needed to know whether or not you still loved her, or if you ever did. And when you told her, she was finally able to let go. She was content. She was happy. It's a girl thing," she finished with a genuine smile.
Alec sighed again, a small smile playing at his own lips. He looked at Max and began speaking again.
"Thank you. I guess I needed to hear that."
Max nodded. "Any time. And thank you. I need someone to talk to about Ben,someone who would understand, everything."
"Any time, Maxie. Any time."Alec pulled her even closer to him, and Max moved into his embrace innocently, yet happily.
And so it was silent for another period of time. But this time, when the quiet was pleasently interrupted, it was Max who spoke.
"Can I ask you something, Alec?"
"Anything, Max," he said calmly. There had been a point not too long ago in which he'd have refused such a request, and they both knew it. But things had changed drastically in am amazingly short period of time, and they'd changed for what could only be the better.
"Are you still upset that I didn't let Berrisford kill you?" she said tentatively, awkwardly, almost afraid of the answer for reasons unknown to her.
Alec looked at her quesioningly, taken aback by her intense, very personal inquisition.
"No, Max," he stated, "I'm not." He seemed to be a bit disturbed that their conversation had veered onto this topic, and also extremely shocked that Max actually gave a shit whether had wanted to live or die. "Do you really think that I do?"
Max remained silent. She didn't want to do or say anything more that she would regret, because she already regretted bringing up the subject. It was too uncomfortable.
"I'll be honest with you Max," Alec said pointedly. "I was pissed right after it happened, that I wasn't dead. Because I deserved it. I didn't deserve freedom, hell, I didn't even deserve Manticore, I deserved death. But, I felt a little better afterwards, after I talked to Rachel, even though seeing Rachel like that was the hardest thing I'd ever done. But now, I guess I've learned a little more about the world, learned that not everything in this life is perfect, that it's usually far from it. But once you except that, that's when you can start living."
And he left it at that. It was obvious there was more that he could've said, but he stopped there. And it was enough. They sat there together in silence for the rest of the night, and no words were truly needed.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
That night, Max and Alec had become friends. They didn't harbor hostility toward one another any longer. They trusted each other. And, for Max at least, their veiws of one another had altered greatly.
'Alec, wonder if he's up.'
She knew Alec slept a lot, but he might be up. She hopped from the bed and sidled out of her room to his door. She knocked lightly, but there was no answer. 'Proabaly still asleep,' Max thought, but she wasn't convinced; something didn't feel right. She tried the doorknob, which was unlocked, inplying that he was inisde and, most likely awake. So, being the person she was, she turned the handle and entered. Only to find the room deserted.
A/N: Ok, yeah, stupid ending, I know, but next I didn't feel like making this chapter any longer. Oh, and BTW, yes, in my world, flashbacks within flashbacks exsist, and I hope I didn't confuse any of you too badly. I've got some of chapter three written, so hopefully it will be out sooner than this one. Hoped you liked this chapter!
Anyway, R/R, Thanks!
-AntipodeanOpaleye
