Title: Left Behind...
Rating: PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side. If you think I should change it, lemme know.)
Genre: General/Angst ( If there's a continuation, it'll probably change)
Disclaimer: I don't own Max, Logan or the whole concept of Dark Angel. I own the concept of this story however, but will never officionaly own it as it is inspiration; feelings clutched into symbols on a computer.
Summary: Post- AJBAC. Everything went sideways; they didn't capture any of the X-5's. They captured a normal human, that now has escaped, and tries to deal with the consequences...
It was cool. Even chilly. Even though it was in the middle of the summer the Seattle city night, the night air was chilly, always chilly.
Just like he remembered it.
He stood up on the roof, overlooking the city. He'd been up here some times before, the first time just before they were plotting to take down Manticore. It hadn't gone as expected, he had lost so much to the world, risking much but loosing even more. The memories would always be fresh in his mind, it was not something he remembered with joy, exactly. He'd been afraid when they went in that they would get captured, that Manticore would take them back, putting them in cages.
But instead, he'd been the prisoner.
He was the one to be left behind, and it had been hell. First, they had fixed his legs. He didn't know how- he wasn't sure he wanted to know- but when he woke up in a cell and regained a fresh conscious for the first time he could feel his legs again. He wasn't sure that he would ever take his legs for granted, again. He hadn't understood at first, what did they want him for? But they had explained it to him; that he was their new experiment. Their new, fresh, guinea pig. They wanted to study their genetic research on normal, full-grown humans, if they could improve them.
And they could.
They had improved him to the brink of impossibility, nothing he would ever imagine possible. In a few weeks he'd been turned from a normal guy who couldn't use his legs nor eyes properly without help, to one of Manticore's top soldiers. He was recommended for several missions, and helped with the training of the young. All that, from being there a few months.
Since he was an adult they could experiment and see the results much faster, and now that he came to think of it, he didn't think there was a single body part of his that they hadn't improved. He didn't need glasses anymore. He could walk, run much faster than your average Joe. Hell, he could even do what he'd always referred to as the " Superman- zoom ", hear better and see in the dark like a cat. He wondered if that was how she had felt.
Her. His angel of the dark, his symphony in silence.
He missed her. He had missed her extremely much, especially in the night, when he was supposed to rest, but instead always laid awake, thinking of the life that had been deprived of him. He had lost everything, his life, his name, almost his memories as well, his very being. He wasn't even sure what he would come back to, but from here everything always looked the same.
Up on the Space Needle, nothing ever changed.
Everything remained the same, people going on with their lives in the broken city, or rather in the shell of a once great city. Nothing ever changed from up here, you were alone, accompanied by your thoughts as your only friend. Perhaps the howling wind as well.
He didn't even know if she still was down there with them, perhaps she'd ran away with the others, fearing the worst. He hoped with all his heart that she hadn't, but now that he knew more of how a soldier thought, he wasn't sure if she had.
She had her whole life here, though. Her friends, her job, her apartment, her everything. She'd fought for so long to try to build a normal life, and he didn't think she would ever give that up, even when Zack stood howling over her head that she should get out, leave the city and get on the road with how things were done if you wanted to stay alive, and free. But she had never been the one to follow those rules.
She probably thought he was dead.
If he had been asked a few weeks ago, he would say he was. Living like he had done at Manticore hadn't been life, it had been slavery, a prisoner in a prison of hell. He could now better understand everything she had told him about Manticore, he knew it just as well as she did now. Not in the same time, no, but he still knew it. He hadn't spent as much time there, either, but he'd been older than she had.
He overlooked the city again, turning his gaze towards the high-rise district. He could see his apartment from afar, he would even see that there were small lights turned on. Had someone else moved in there? He concentrated and zoomed in on it, fearing the worst. Sure, he had owned the apartment, but hearing about his " death" his lawyers had probably sold it.
So much for coming home.
But as he zoomed in, he could not see everything clear, it was still too far away. But one thing remained sure to him, he could see that- it was still his apartment. Everything he could see was the same, the furniture, the paintings that he hadn't sold. Everything seemed the same, but he couldn't help but wonder who kept his apartment like that for him? Was someone still waiting for him to come home?
Maybe there was hope...
A/N: This was actually thought to be a stand alone piece from the beginning, but after a friend of mine read it, she said that I couldn't just leave it like that; that it didn't have a real ending. If you agree, or just think that there should be a continuation, review and tell me!!!
