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Part 19

Max held herself upright in front of the mirror, sweat glistening on her skin from the artificial light above her sink. She splashed water upon her face cooling her flushed cheeks and trying to ease her out of control breathing. The dream she'd awoken from had left her shaken and her hands trembled in fear and horror as the memories continued to flood her despite being awake.

"Rumor has it that Renfro is gonna deploy you on a solo mission of great importance," Brendan said smiling at her hiding his concern, "Not bad smart ass. Not bad at all, looks like even the high almighty bitch recognizes skill when she sees it."

A grin spread her lips and she looked away from his gaze, seeing the buried worry and protectiveness in his eyes, "How are you gonna manage without me keeping your sorry ass out of trouble?" she smirked impishly raising her eyebrows at him.

Shock and insult furrowed his brow and he sputtered trying to find something to say when he noticed the knowing smile on her lips and kicked himself mentally for not hearing the sarcasm in her voice, "Why you little…"

With only enough time to shriek in a rather un-herself-like yelp she rolled as his body impacted with hers and he tackled her to the ground. Pinning her body down with his he began tickling her unrelenting as she writhed and squirmed beneath him unable to smother her laughter.

Stopping all of a sudden, his head was no more than a couple of centimeters form hers, "Just come back okay?" he warned giving away the fear he had of losing her, "I promise, I'll be back before you even know I'm gone."

Biting her lip to a point of drawing blood Max sunk down onto the floor, the tiles cold and freezing against her far too hot sink. Retreating into herself, hugging her knees she tried to shake the images away knowing that her good memories of him would end. Ripping the sling away from herself she whimpered.

Her injuries were nearly completely healed and the scars would soon begin to fade. But like the snippets of the past Max was relieving, the memories those wounds had made, would never leave. Bit by bit, piece by piece, the holes psy-ops had left open were filling with details long forgotten. Details that tormented and comforted her.

Being her CO he was present to see her off. He saluted her formally unlike the hug he'd let her give him before they'd left the barracks. In comparison this felt distant, unnatural to the way that her soft body had so willingly molded against his own, her fingers splayed against her back when she'd promised her return to him once again.

Saluting in return she swallowed almost unnoticeably reminding herself that she was a soldier, she was going on a mission, she had to keep focused, but all her heart could do was replay the one kiss they'd shared.

Not that it had been her first kiss or would be the last. Missions sometimes required seduction as she had learned in the past. But it had been so different, so confusingly warm and tender, and those weren't adjectives she or any other transgenic could often use to describe a fellow soldier.

Clicking her heels together she spun round and walked in her usual manner, disobedient sway of her hips advertising her femininity, towards the HUV and climbed inside. With one last look at him, her CO, her protector and perhaps a could be lover, she ignored the feeling that this was the last time she'd ever see him on happy terms.

A shudder slithered down her spine, goose bumps appearing on her skin. Alec still slept soundly in the other room and she didn't want to wake him. The last thing she wanted was for him to find her like this, to see her so overtaken with fear and grief. 'He's already seen you like this,' a voice inside her own head pointed out.

Never had she let somebody see her like this, at her weakest, no one outside of a select few from her unit had seen her helpless fighting against herself. The few accidental others had not lived to tell the tale.

"State your designation," Sandoval horsed demanding the authority he had always tried to maintain in front of her, but she knew and she'd been playing this game since she's first met him letting him think he was in control, "X5-452 sir," she replied impeccably like always.

"Have you been briefed on your target?"

"Yes, sir. Jonathan Ducent,"

"You have an excellent track record for solo and team missions but this will be your first deep cover. Our intelligence indicates that Ducent's been curious lately about the work we do here--asking questions he shouldn't be. Close surveillance has become a necessity," Sandoval continued unnecessarily, they'd already been through this several times.

"Yes, sir," she continued the false pretence.

"We've established a cover for you. Considering past… excellence, I'm sure you'll find it to your liking," she ignored his bemused expression, the spark in her eye usually hidden enflaming and growing at his intimation.

"Have you been briefed on your target?"

"Yes, sir. Jonathan Ducent,"

Your target 452… Your only thought is our orders…

She remembered the smug faces of the men that had controlled her life, her decisions. The men that controlled her only by punishing others for her mistakes, punishing her unit, her family, her pack.

Max felt the hatred pulse once again through her, felt the tremors the anger brought, her body racked with seizure like convulsions from the repressed adrenaline pumping, enciting her to lash out, to make the ones that had brought suffering into their lives, suffer the way they had. To make them pay for the experiments, for the punishments, for the torture.

"The files you brought us are very enlightening, 452. Ducent's acquired some damaging information about Manticore, and has plans to alert his friend in the Senate. According to reports, he's planning a big night for you tonight?" Sandoval mused at the X5 and she had to bite her tongue to keep from answering back. She'd promised Brendan to come back.

"Yes, sir," she replied automatically.

"Continue the pretence and then eliminate him. You understand your assignment?"

"Yes, sir. It's just..."

"It's just what, 452?"

"Sir, I can eliminate Ducent at the start of the night, it seems unnecessary--" hiding the hesitation she'd shown she argued back. There was no need for her to sleep with her target.

"You're not in charge of this mission, 452. Your job, and your only thought, is to follow our orders," and with that sentence she knew Sandoval knew something, something about Brendan and her.

Swallowing she buried her fear, "Yes, sir."

"Because if for some reason we lost confidence in you...we'd have no need for you and your unit would suffer losing such a good soldier, especially your CO."

"No, sir," the rage grew at the only way they knew how to control her but so did her fear and so mentally bowing her head she granted their request. No matter how much it would feel wrong and betrayal to him, it would be worse if she didn't go through with their requests.

"So we're clear, then?"

"Crystal, sir."

Flicking her tongue against the red droplet that trickled across her lip she tasted the familiar copperish tang of her own blood. A horrified shudder passed through her and Max had to fight the sounds that tried to escape her wavering lips remembering how she'd disobeyed her superiors and paid attention to her own will.

Men dragged her kicking and screaming through the halls of Manticore and into a rwhite walled room as she struggled against their hold. Sandoval watched her with a disappointed stare.

Her struggling stopped the moment her eyes fell onto the bruised and bleeding body within the room, "See what your actions have caused 452? You're a traitor, you killed a member of your own unit, someone you loved. You killed Brendan."

No breath entered her lungs, air refused to fill her body and she wheezed in a desperate attempt to draw in the much needed oxygen. She felt the burst of energy splitting her jaw and the taste of blood in her mouth but felt no pain. The anger, fear and hatred she kept within her overwhelmed her heart and mind and she lost control of her own body.

The sudden surge of power that erupted out of her small frame sent the men holding her flying off her and before they'd even realized what had happened she'd snapped all of their necks; pure animalistic instinct driving her to avenge the damage they'd caused.

Men rushed out of nowhere tackling her to the ground as she stepped towards Brendan's still body. TAC soldiers grabbed his body indifferent of his head as it slumped lifelessly while they dragged him away.

A soft moan widened her eyes as she saw him draw in a breath. Tears streamed down her cheeks and she growled in restrained potency to get to him despite the men holding her back.

"BRENDAN!!" she screamed terrified and full of released emotion. Emotion she'd had to keep hidden, emotion that had reached the brim and now overwhelmed her.

The convulsions shook her body, hands turning white as they gripped the seat of the commode and her diaphragm dry heaved. Gagging on her own tongue she gripped the ceramic. The grime made her hands slip, her fingers curling tighter around it to steady herself. Creaking under the pressure of an X5 fighting to control her own body the old ceramic shattered. Hands falling to either side supporting her body the contents of her stomach came up.

Her hair hung limply plastered to her sweating face and neck as she hovered over the broken bowl emptying her stomach with enough force that she spat out blood.

You are nothing 452… you are a soldier… soldiers don't have feelings… they don't have the capacity to love… you're poison… Brendan's death is your fault… it's all your fault… your actions.

Soft smile upon his far too pink lips as he trailed kisses on her abdomen. The silky texture of his blonde hair through her fingers made her shiver, "Brendan."

The intimate glow of the room turned to harsh and she squinted trying to see past it, "He didn't have to die. It's your fault he died you got attached."

Fists and boots bet at her battered body as she hung limply on the chains that cut into her wrists, head swinging back and forth as she spat out blood. Her body was inflamed in pain and in that moment she welcomed death with open arms. She craved the blissful everlasting sleep she'd given a total of 34 senior officers and human soldiers including Sandoval.

Nothing mattered to her anymore, she'd failed him, failed Brendan and her family. Death would be salvation.

The laser seared a path into her eye, pain shooting through her brain stem and down her spine, as she struggled in vain against the restraints. Rough hands shoved the horse bit into her mouth blocking her screams as the images began flashing past her eyes. Her body convulsed in the chair fighting against the pictures flashing.

Images of his body, sounds of his screaming, of his gurgled gasps as blood filled his mouth. The straps held her down in place and the laser was incandescent. She fought, battled the images… DUTY… DISCIPLINE… MISSION… TRAITOR…

"You are nothing 452… you are a soldier… soldiers don't have feelings… they don't have the capacity to love… you're poison… Brendan's death is your fault… it's all your fault… your actions."

Alec rushed into the room concern and worry etched onto his face as he rushed to her side. His hands pulled her hair away from her face ignoring the little voice that told him Max wasn't gonna let him see her like that without complaint or physical violence.

Retching sounds echoed off the old tiles of the bathroom contrasting with the soft soothing hushes Alec mumbled into her ear brining her back into the real world and out of her mind.

Empty of any sort of substance Max collapsed in a sweated heap next to the destroyed toilet breathing harshly and her eyes half closed in exhaustion, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break it," she apologised surprising him. Those were hardly the words he expected.

"It's okay. I'll get OC and Sketch another one. You don't look to good either," he muttered with a half smile to which he received a much smaller one in return, but it was progress nonetheless, "I'd like to see how you look after harking the past week's meals."

Smiling at her hoarse come back he brushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead, "You need a shower. Come on I'll help ya up," he said pulling her to her feet. She swayed dizzily and light headed trying to remain upright by herself, "And it looks like I also need to get some food into you."

"I . . . I can't do it by myself," she whispered not meeting his gaze, "I need you."

Those three little words pounded at the walls she'd already tore through and Alec could only dumbly nod his head and croak in reply a small, slightly fearful, "Okay."

A/n: I think my muse is back!!! Yay for Jet Black peoplez!!!!