A/N: Another chapter in my little AU. Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, I wasn't really sure if I had done anything right with it. And I had expected you to know how we're going to solve the "situation" I had gotten our favorite heroes into. But if you still don't know – go ahead and read chapter 8. Credits for the chapter title go to Dan Brown and his fabulous book. In case you're tired of DA fanfic - go and read it.
The usual beta thanks go out to Kasman – and again the warning that this chapter has only been betaed once. (Even though Kasman eliminated my bowl – bowel mistake, so you're not gonna get the laugh she had.)
And Alaidh... it was 2 mistakes but it should be correct now. And I'll live
with the fact that Lydecker knows about the seizures, 'cause I'm just too lazy
to rewrite it. Sorry for that.
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8. ANGELS AND DEMONS
Slowly Max walked up the stairs of the porch, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. Forcing herself up the last stair, the trembling started. The wood in her arms tumbled to the ground as she stumbled forward, trying to reach the doorknob. When she missed it, she slid down the door, sitting shaking in front of it. Please make it stop, she prayed. Just let me get inside.
But her strength wouldn't come back, she knew that. All she could do was hope
that…
She wasn't able to finish her thoughts as she fainted.
Logan,
still in the bathroom, had heard the noises coming from the porch. What's
happening? That sounded really strange. I better have a look. Remembering
his thoughts about Max and never feeling able to face her again, he added
mentally, I can still retreat. He opened the door to find Max lying on
the floor, her eyes closed and her body shaking violently. She's having one
of her seizures. A bad one. He leaned forward and carefully touched her face
and her hands. She was cold as ice. I need to get her inside. No matter how.
Everything else was forgotten, the only important thing now was to get Max back inside.
"Max?" he whispered, but she wouldn't answer.
He made sure he'd set the brakes and carefully pulled her to his lap, trying to be as gentle as possible, which wasn't too easy, considering that she was shaking badly. Once he'd placed her back against his chest and her legs away from the wheels he slowly brought them to the living room, his own body shuddering from her tremors. He stopped in front of the couch and lifted her over to lay her down.
"Max, what can I do?" he asked quietly, knowing he wouldn't get an answer but sure that he had to do something.
He went to the bathroom, checking her wash bag for tryptophan but not finding any. Going to her bedroom he searched her back-pack and was lucky. He found the bottle in the front pocket of the bag. I need to keep a bottle myself, not give her everything I organize. I have to make sure I have some handy in case this starts without warning. He returned with it to the living room where Max was still seizing on the sofa. He put the bottle on the coffee table and went to the kitchen to get a glass of milk. When he came back he stopped in front of her, now trying to wake her up.
"Max, please, you need to swallow this," he begged, supporting her head with his arm.
She slowly opened her eyes and whispered, "Logan…please…"
"Here, swallow this," he pleaded and gave her a couple of pills which she took thankfully. Once she'd swallowed them, he gave her the glass of milk of which she drank a few sips until she closed her eyes again and leaned back. Logan sighed his relief when he saw the seizures subside and went to his bedroom to get her a blanket. A moment later he was back, put the blanket on the table and started to pull off the shoes Max was still wearing. He then put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her carefully in an upright position to take off her jacket. This feels so much like the first time I saw her having those seizures, Logan thought. I remember when she came over. The brownout and her talking about where she had been when the Pulse hit. I felt helpless then and I feel helpless now, too. I wish I could do something to make those seizures go away. He remembered their quarrel and how happy she had been until…well, until this little accident happened. She deserves better than this. Better than those seizures and better than I have been to her. Maybe she just deserves better than me? Maybe there's someone out there who knows what to do when she's feeling so bad?
Slowly he let her lay down again and covered her with the blanket, then he went out to get the wood Max had lost on the porch. When he came back, he heard her whisper, "Logan? Logan?"
Within seconds he was back at her side. "I'm here, I'm here. Everything okay?"
"I thought you were gone," she whispered. "I didn't want to…you know…in the bathroom…I didn't know…"
Logan, who had paused to listen to her, threw the wood in the fireside and returned to Max. "Silly girl," he told her tenderly. "I promised I wouldn't go anywhere and I'm going to keep my promise. Just wanted to light a fire. You're still so cold."
"Thank you," she murmured quietly. "I'm sorry. I…I didn't want to ruin your day any further. I'm really sorry," she continued.
He leaned forward and caressed her shoulder. "Everything's fine. You're only ruining your own evening. I just wish I could help you."
She smiled weakly. "But you are helping me, Logan. You are here, even though my brain chemistry is going mad. You brought me inside, you gave me my pills…you're doing so much."
"You need anything else?" he asked, never stopping to touch her.
"Some more pills," she whispered. "They're really bad this time. Must be because of the implant. Haven't had any since then and they have never been this bad before. I never blacked out like that."
Logan gave her some more pills which she swallowed, then handed her the glass of milk. When she took it, another tremor hit her and she spilled some of the glass's content on the blanket.
"So…sorry," Max apologized, feeling ashamed and helpless.
"Easy there," Logan said, taking back the glass. Like he'd done before he supported her in an upright position with one hand behind her back, then he brought the glass to her mouth, helping her drink like a small child. When she was done he put the glass back on the table and smiled at her, still worried.
"Can I leave you alone for a second? Just going to get a towel to clean up the blanket and then I'm going to light the fire, okay?"
Max nodded, then closed her eyes again.
Logan did as he had said. A few moments later he was back with a little kitchen towel and wiped away the milk, then he wheeled to the fireside and placed the wood so it'd burn. When the flames flickered and he turned around, he saw that Max had been watching him.
"Anything else I can do for you?" he asked.
Max looked at him with her dark brown eyes that were clouded with pain and fear. "Could you stay?"
"Where else would I go?" he asked back, stopping in front of her. "Of course I'll stay."
"I feel so bad," Max admitted.
"Does it hurt?"
"That's not what's so bad," she tried to explain. "It's this helplessness." She hesitated, then continued whispering, "When I was younger I was sure that Lydecker would find me one day when I was having seizures. That he'd take me when I was the most vulnerable. That's why I never told anybody about it. Not even Original Cindy. I didn't want Lydecker to know that I'm still having them."
Her whole life has been a nightmare, Logan thought. She's been on the run all her life, always fearing that Manticore would come and get her. It's incredible that with all these worries she turned out to be the woman she is. He gently stroked her head.
"Why did you tell me?" he asked. "Because you trusted me to keep a secret?"
"I trust you to keep every secret," she told him. "You've been the first person who found out about me and the first one I could tell everything. I've been hiding all my life, but with you it was different. I never had to hide. But I hadn't exactly planned to tell you."
"Yeah, I know," Logan smiled. "And I'm pretty sure that you're safe here. Lydecker's not going to find you here and if.. well, I'd have to kick his ass then."
Max smiled. "I'm sure you would. Thank you, Logan. It feels so safe when you're around."
When I'm around? She must be kidding. I'm the one who can't even run with her. There's no logical reason for her to trust me, but she does. And there's no reason for her to feel safe when she's with me but she does. Wow.
Wonder if I scared him, Max thought. But it's the truth. It feels good to have him around. He doesn't run away like most other guys would. This guy stays, gets me my meds and a blanket. Wow. I'm not sure I deserve this.
They stayed silent for the next minutes, both lost in their thoughts and in each other. Logan kept caressing her head and shoulders and she relaxed more and more until the seizures seemed to be gone.
"Logan?" she finally broke the silence.
"Huh?"
"There's something else you could do, if you're up for it," she told him.
He smiled. "Sure. Tell me."
"I'm starving," she smiled back at him. "You think you could…"
Tousling her hair he laughed. "Sure. Anything special you've got in mind?"
"Nah, just something. I don't care."
"Okay, let me see what I can whip up. If there's anything you need, just call, okay?"
She nodded. "Will do. But I already feel much better."
"Good," he gave back and headed to the kitchen.
I already miss his touch, Max realized the moment he was gone. What is this today? Just because he doesn't run when you're getting your seizures? One day he's not only gonna find out who you really are, but he's also going to understand. And then he'll be gone as fast as you can say 'Manticore'. Stop dreaming, Max. You're alone in this mess of a life. Be happy that there's this guy who's cooking you dinner. Enjoy it, as long as he's there. It won't be forever.
Logan in the kitchen was rumbling through their supplies. Okay, I was able to face her again. She's not making a big deal out of it. Is that because it really is not big deal for her, or because she feels so bad? Pushing those thoughts aside he tried to concentrate on the task at hand. There were a couple of vegetables, pasta, of course, rice, and the meat they'd bought yesterday. He shrugged and decided to throw most of the vegetables into a pan and have it with rice and the meat. He'd just started chopping when Max came in, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, covering her like a cloak.
"Hey," she said. "Do you need any help?"
"Hey, you're up," he said. "Nah, I'm fine. Do you want to take a bath?"
"A shower," she nodded. "Just wanted to check if you're okay."
"I'm fine," he smiled at her. "Go and take your shower."
She disappeared smiling and went to the bathroom, while Logan continued preparing dinner.
When she let the hot water run over her body her thoughts wandered back to the living room. Back to Logan, who was now in the kitchen, cooking her dinner...once again.
A smile appeared on her lips. He's so cute. I can't believe he did all those things for me. Can't believe he brought me inside, got me my pills, a blanket, lit the fire and brought me milk. He's so amazing. The most caring and giving person I've ever met. And despite his otherwise so serious personality, he's proven that he can be really fun. Well, not that I wouldn't have known, it's just that I so often wish he'd not be so serious. That he'd be more like he's been before the shooting, well, maybe not that arrogant, but not that serious.
She stepped out of the shower and grabbed her towel. Wrapping it around her she sat down on the edge of the bathtub. Staring at her legs she shook her head. Even after all those time with Logan I don't have the slightest idea what it means not to be able to use your legs. Well, yeah, of course I see him everyday, I see how difficult it can be to go somewhere, but I don't know what it means. And he wouldn't tell what it feels like. He just pretends that nothing's any different. And I just can't imagine what it's like to be paralyzed. I can imagine that it's horrible, especially since our encounter here in the bathroom, but I still can't imagine that it's worth killing yourself. Well, at least not when you're not on the run from some secret government agency. If I ended up in a wheelchair, I may as well shoot myself right away. But Logan? Right now he has nothing to run from. Sure, a lot of people want Eyes Only dead, but as long as nobody knows that he is Eyes Only, he's got nothing to be afraid of.
Shrugging she stood up and got dressed before she returned to the kitchen, where Logan was already setting the table.
When he watched her enter, his whole face smiled. "Hey," he greeted her. "You look much better."
"Thanks," she said. "I do feel better. Hope it's over. Anything I can do?"
"You could put the bowls on the table. Don't wanna burn my lap," he advised her.
Max nodded and took the bowls from the kitchen counter. "Hm, Logan, this smells great," she told him.
"I should have known that you being outside all day and going skiing would mean you'd eat at least for three," he laughed, when he heard her stomach grumble.
"Sorry," she laughed back and sat down on the bench. Logan grabbed the bottle of wine and held it up.
"You want a glass?"
Max grimaced and shook her head. "As much as I'd like to, I think a glass of milk would be better."
Logan nodded, put the wine back and grabbed the milk. He then stopped at the table, filled both of their glasses with milk and raised his. "To a wonderful trip with a wonderful woman."
Max blushed a little and smiled. "A wonderful trip," she confirmed, before they clung their glasses.
She blushed. I can't believe it. She's so adorable sometimes. Well, most times. Tough-ass-attitude Max blushes almost every time she gets a compliment. Why is that? After so many years she must have learned how great she looks and how many wonderful and incredible talents she has. But maybe it's just me who is embarrassing her? Maybe it's not the compliment as such but the fact that it's coming from me? Cale, that's stupid. Why should that make any difference? There is no difference between me and all those guys at Crash or wherever who flirt with her. We're just not playing in her class. Especially not me. But still…She's sitting there, eating what I cooked for her. I wish so badly that she could see more in me than just a guy in a wheelchair. That she could see in me what she saw the days I was walking again. That she hadn't seen the real me today on the mountain and in the bathroom. I just wish…
"Aren't you hungry?" she suddenly asked.
Wonder what he's been thinking about? Must be important if he forgets to eat…
"Well…yeah, of course I am," he stuttered and started to eat. But still his mind was somewhere else and he hardly tasted the food.
"Everything's okay?" she asked carefully, adding "What are you thinking about?" when he didn't answer.
"There's a lot of stuff going on in my mind," he admitted finally. "I felt so great yesterday, and when I woke up today, I was anticipating the day. That hasn't happened in while." He looked at her, trying to find a proof of understanding. When she nodded slightly, he continued, "But then there were these morons. I know they were just idiots, but… nonetheless…they spoke out what I feel myself. That I'm not worthy enough to live…to have fun and especially.. not worthy to be somewhere together with you."
"They are idiots, Logan. And you shouldn't feel that you're not worth any of those things. You're worth all of that and so much more."
He's worth everything. Everything.
Logan looked at her, emotions suppressed behind an impassible façade. "I wish I could believe you," he said quietly.
I really wish, but I can't. It's too hard, to accept something positive for myself, after all this time. With her.
Max looked at him, their food forgotten and so many unspoken words heavy in the air. She stood up and walked over to him, where she kneeled down and took his hands in hers. "Why do you believe those idiots but not me?" was all she asked, yet it was so hard for Logan to answer.
He hesitated, searching for the right words to say, and finally said, "Because they say what I believe myself. What you say is what I wish to be true, but it just doesn't feel right that way."
"Why not? What makes you think so badly of yourself?"
Logan stared at his hands, still captured in Max's. Why should I think good of myself? There's not much left of the great Logan Cale. After a while he looked up and in her eyes. "Can't we just finish dinner?" he asked. "The food is getting cold."
Max shook her head. "You're not eating anyway." She stood up and asked pleadingly, "Come with me to the living room, please."
"And then?"
"Let's talk. I want you to understand and I want to understand you. Please."
I really want to talk about this. One last time. And then I want it to be over. Finally. I just hope he's coming with me.
Logan considered his choices and nodded. "Okay. Living room."
He released the brakes of his chair and followed her to the place in front of the still burning fire.
Max sat down on the sofa she'd lain on earlier and watched Logan stop next to her.
"So?" he asked.
"You haven't answered my question. Why do you think of yourself as worthless?"
Logan sighed again. "You're not letting this one slide, are you?"
Max shook her head. "No, not this time."
Logan raised his eyebrows and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I just think that those guys today were right. I don't deserve you. You deserve someone who can run with you when you have to, who can help you and support you, who can be there for you when you need him and someone who doesn't have to plan every single step of the day. Someone you can go on holidays with, without having to call and make sure the cabin is accessible. And someone you won't find in the bathroom…" He didn't finish his sentence.
"You're feeling this way because of me?" Max asked incredulously. "Logan, that's so stupid."
"It's not all because of you," Logan tried to explain. Well, most of it is, but not all, he added in his mind. "When I wake up in the morning all I can think of are the less pleasant aspects of my life, because those are the ones that are going to rule my day - that make me feel unworthy. All those things make me feel unworthy. Some people make me forget about them and other know exactly how to emphasize them."
Max looked at him, not exactly sure what he was talking about.
"So the guys today made you think of the unpleasant aspects of your life you had pushed aside and that's why your mood changed so dramatically?" she wanted to know.
"Yeah, like that," Logan confirmed.
"And what about me then?" Max asked. "Do you think of the good or the bad things in your life when you see me?"
Logan put his glasses on the small coffee table next to the sofa and rubbed his eyes. "That depends," he answered. "Sometimes you're the only reason I get up and other times you're the reason I feel so miserable. You're all that's good and beautiful to me. I look forward to seeing you everyday, but when you're there, you're making my flaws so obvious."
"Flaws?" Max tried to understand.
"Look at me and look at yourself. Just look at this damn chair. When I was able to walk again, all those feelings of inferiority were gone. I felt as if I was your equal."
Max still tried to get what he was telling her. "I don't understand that, Logan. You have always been my equal. Or even more than that. I can't understand why just because you can't walk, you're feeling inferior. Why, Logan? Why?"
"Don't you see it? When we met, we were flirting. And when I could walk again, we were flirting too. This never happens when I'm in the chair. It can't happen."
"Why not?" Max was getting impatient. "Of course it can happen. If we both want it to. But when you hide yourself behind your chair, nothing's going to happen, so much is true. When you lost the hope of walking again, you stopped flirting with me and instead you tried to kill yourself. We can't flirt when you're dead!"
Sarcasm was dripping from her words and it scared Logan. Why is she talking like that? Why?
"I thought my life was over," he tried to explain, his voice low and full of emotions. "I thought I had lost it all – again. You told me the news and disappeared. I was sure you wouldn't come back to me."
"It was you who sent me away, just to remind you," Max shot back. "And why shouldn't I come back? Wasn't I there before you could walk?"
"Yeah, you have been. Because you felt responsible. But this time.."
Max didn't give him the chance to finish his sentence. "No way, Logan. You're not going there. I felt responsible, yeah. But that wasn't the reason I came back, not the reason I came over almost every day this last months."
"So what was the reason?" Logan asked, his voice quiet again.
"You – you were the reason. I thought we were friends, I thought we meant something to each other. Something that's not gonna change because you can't walk anymore. Do you have any idea how much you scared me that day? And later, when you wouldn't talk?"
Logan hadn't the strength to look her in the eyes, he could only stare at his hands in his lap.
"God, Logan, I'm still scared every time I come to your apartment. I'm still scared that I'm going to find you with that bullet in your head and I won't have been able to do anything to stop you from doing it. I don't know what I can do to take away the pain that you're obviously in. Why can't you just talk to me? Why do I feel as if this was all my fault? As if I put you back in that chair myself?" Max was almost yelling, still scared to admit her feelings, yet feeling the necessity to do so.
He sighed, not knowing how to make her understand that she was wrong.
"You don't have to feel responsible," he said, trying to calm her. "There's no reason for it. I'm the one in the chair and that's strictly on Bruno, not your transfusion or anything else you did or didn't do."
"But my transfusion made you walk again," Max said, her voice desperate in a way Logan had never heard it before. "I made you walk again. You were so happy, so much like the Logan I got to know at the very beginning. And I wanted you to be able to keep this. I wanted you to be happy." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply before she added, "Us. I wanted us to be happy."
Logan finally looked up and saw the tears in her eyes she wouldn't allow to fall down. "So I have been right all the time?" he asked unbelievingly. "You wanted us to be happy and that could only work when I could walk? Of course."
He released the brakes and turned around. "You know what, Max? Don't bother any more. There's no need for you to stay with me. I won't kill myself, so you can stop feeling responsible. And I won't ever walk again, that's why you don't have to stay and wait for the miracle to happen, so that you can finally have your happily ever after. Go home, Max, and live the life you really want."
Grabbing his jacket he left the cabin.
