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/Romance
Disclaimer + Summary: See the first chappie! As for the poem in the end of this chapter- I wish it was Logan- but it's " To one in Paradise" by Edgar A. Poe.
Thanks to all my reviewers!
(as always, more personalized answer at the bottom)
Chapter 2
" Hey, Max, would you pass me that pitcher?"
Max looked up from where she had been sitting, her head resting in her hands, and looked around herself. For a good few moments she had forgotten where she was, too lost in thoughts to be able to make out anything else. She felt all her friend's eyes upon her, and she gave a vague smile to Sketchy, handing him the pitcher.
" Max, you okay?" Sketchy asked her, actually sounding a bit concerned, as he poured up some beer to refill all the empty glasses. Well, perhaps he was more concerned of having her breathing fire on him because she was in a bad mood, rather than actual concern. Or he was just telling himself things, he didn't know. He was confused, heck, he couldn't even remember the name of the fine woman who he had seen when entering today. And that meant it was probably bad, really bad. Remembering beautiful women's names was essential!
" Homegirl just needs to clear her head, " Original Cindy said, putting an arm around Max's shoulder. Max kept her vague smile towards her homegirl, appreciating all she tried to do for her. Hell, in the last few months Cindy had probably been one of the only reasons she had stayed in Seattle, instead of finally taking Zack's advice and running away. But she had told him what she had said to him ages ago, one thing that still remained true, fresh in her heart- she was tired of running.
After their failed attempt of taking down Manticore, much in Max's world had changed. Her siblings and herself, as well as the Colonel, had survived, and escaped. But someone hadn't; the same someone she never would have figured to be the one to be left behind there. To get hurt there. To die there.
Logan Cale.
The most pissed of TV reporter in the world, man of letters, speaker of truth, protector of lost animals and children- the only man she had ever loved, as well.
Just when she had finally admitted her feelings for him, stepped up to the real and stopped dancing around him; he'd been taken from her in the most horrible way he ever could have. He had risked his life to help her that night, but she never thought that her and her siblings would come out alive, and he be the one to take one for the team. It felt horrible, still an open wound in her heart, soul and mind.
It was her fault.
She had never asked him to help her, like Original Cindy kept telling her over and over, but it had been like an under lying meaning between them; she knew he would help. He didn't want to loose her, and helped her because of it. That, and some other things, she knew and the only thing it had gotten him, was killed. She had gotten him killed.
She still remembered running back to the woods and the Van, screaming that it hadn't gone as expected, that they should start the engine and leave at once- and getting no reply. It had scared her, but it scared her even more when she had found that no one was there. The Colonel was gone. Logan too, was gone. And the only signs telling her something had gone wrong, was the blood stained walls. The terrible, blood stained walls. The whole van was filled with blood and a piece of Logan's jacket sat attached to the blood on the walls, confirmed her fears. That, and the amount on blood sprayed out all over the van, the floor, and ground outside of it, told her what she didn't want to hear. They had most likely killed him, and taken him. And it was, still was, her fault.
She had killed the man she loved.
Coming home, after saying goodbye to her siblings had been the worst. She had gone straight home, afraid to face Logan's apartment, all the fresh memories there. She found Cindy up and waiting for her, and as soon as she'd entered the door, she had fallen into her Boo's arms, crying, collapsing into a heap of sorrow and tears.
She had told Original Cindy everything. Every single detail, and she hadn't cared whether or not that was wise of her. Her friend tried to comfort her, in the best ways she knew, but she also knew that there was no comforting Max. She'd lost the first man she'd ever loved, and they both knew it.
It had taken time.
It took a couple of days, about a week or two, before she dared face his apartment again- face everything that came with it. Before that, she had called Bling, telling him everything. He'd been just as upset as she, except he didn't show it like Max had. Bling wasn't a man of emotions, but Max could hear, super hearing or not, the sorrow in his voice. She wasn't sure if she had been able to detect tears as well, perhaps she was just too affected herself.
Walking around it, roaming it like she was the only one that would ever enter it again, she decided by when the sun had fallen, that she wouldn't just let this go just like that. Seeing the sun going up, and then down again, she decided further- she would stay here. She couldn't leave the apartment, and therefore Logan, behind, not yet. She wasn't ready to let him go, and frankly, she wasn't sure if she'd ever would be able to do so.
She had made his apartment her reverie.
She didn't live there, no. She slept there a few nights, occasionally, but never in the bed. She didn't want the sheets to loose the scent of Logan that still clung to them, she didn't want to mess it up with her presence- she didn't want to mess any more of Logan up. Bitter sweet it was to think that perhaps she still left the offer open; that some day if he came back she would take up his possible offer to one day join him into that very bed, and if so, she didn't want to stain it.
She believed, oh she did. She believed that some day he would come back, tell her that everything was ok, that she'd just dreamed it all. That he had never been away, time hadn't passed and they still had just begun to explore their relationship after stepping up to the real and admitting that perhaps they in fact were like that, and that they had many days, nights, endless time to continue to figure everything out. That time wasn't against them, that they in fact had all time in the world.
And at the same time, she knew that was just never going to happen.
Original Cindy gave her a nudge in her side to make her return back to reality, to at least try to pretend that she was involved, listening to the discussion. She swallowed large zips of the cold beer, entering her mind into the conversation, forgetting about her own misery for a while.
" Fool, basically what you sayin' is that we women only like guys with the dolla-dolla? Loss o'green stuff? That women stayin' together with rich men are doing it all fo' the cream?" Sketchy forced the beer down his throat as he wanted to continue the conversation, the beauty- but off limits lesbian beauty, that was- sitting in front of him pretty much summed up everything he had babbled about for the last 10 minutes. He needed an example to prove his point and so he looked at the person who had stayed rather quiet during those 10 minutes.
" Yeah, and it's true! Young, beautiful women staying with men that can buy houses only to fill them with money, and they do it out of love? No way!" Max felt Sketchy eyeing her, and she felt she didn't like where this was going. " I mean, " Sketchy began pointing at Max, " take Max for an example. She used to date that wheel-chair guy, and he was loaded, wasn't he?" Original Cindy shot Sketchy a warning look, knowing her Boo would explode any second now. Sketchy didn't pick up on it, and continued.
" I mean, Max is young and beautiful. What could she ever see in a guy like that, in a wheel chair and all, 'sides the loads of cash? I- " Sketchy was cut off from saying anything else, as Max was upon him, a wolf on a tomcat. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up from his chair. She tightened her hands around his throat, knowing it would leave a mark later. Good, she thought.
" Shut up, Sketchy! You don't know what the hell you're talking about!! Just shut up..." As she felt him coughing from under her hands grip and his face pale, and Cindy tugging at her arms, she let the damned fool go. He plumped back into his seat, coughing for air. Luckily, the music had been on a high volume, making no one really notice. The ones around the table had noticed however, and Cindy just looked at her homegirl. Sketchy had crossed the line, definitely, but he was still a damn fool who just didn't know what the heck he was talking about most of the times, there was no way he could know anything about Max and Logan's relationship.
" I'm clearing outta here..." Max announced her leave and pulled on her jacket, rushing from the table. Sketchy watched her storm out the door, Original Cindy running after her. He sat in his seat, mesmerized by the strength of the little woman and looked at his friend at his right. They shared a shrug, then downed some beer. Typical women, Sketchy thought.
" Hey! Wait up, Max!" Cindy ran after her best friend, seeing her mounting her bike. She was just about to start it when Cindy reached her, putting a hand over her hand which held the keys to the igniter; and another key as well. One key that Cindy would think that Max held even more dear than the one to her bike; the key to Logan's apartment.
" Sketchy's just a damn fool, Max. There's no way he could've known...." Max nodded, sighing. She couldn't hold back the tears burning behind her eyes, and in front of Cindy, she let them fall.
" I know... But still. I just wish... it all wasn't this way, y'know? That I could go back in time and change it all. " Cindy nodded, clasping Max's hand in her own, squeezing it. She reached out and wiped the tears away from her hurting friends face, not wanting to see such a beautiful thing so sad. She agreed, it wasn't fair. " I'll see you home later... Just gotta ride to clear my head. " Original Cindy nodded, sating a low " OK" under her breath, knowing Max would hear it. She also knew that Max wasn't just gonna clear her head, she was gonna go back to Logan's apartment; reminisce and wallow in pain again. She wished something better for her Boo than pain, but she knew that she couldn't do much other than support her the best she could.
She stood there, thinking that very thought as she watched Max bike speed away, into the lonely night streets. She stood there thinking for another few moments before she returned into the all-too-warm areas that was Crash, and apologized to Sketchy, telling him that Max just had that period of the month. If it only had been something so lightly...
" Like always..." She whispered to herself, standing by his windows, over looking the city. Before, she had only had this good view of the city up on the Space Needle, but as she had begun coming over to his place more often, she had discovered that his place provided her with a nice view, as well. And after a while, she knew she didn't just mean the view of the city, as well.
Will it always hurt like this? She thought to herself, always feeling the same. Although time had passed, every time she came here, she felt like time stood still. This place was exactly the same, the only thing that was amiss, that was different now from then- was him not being her. His missing presence echoed throughout the walls like a word spreading in the street, spreading from object to object, from bauble to bauble, from piece to piece. She just feared that someday it would reach her, and the realization would catch up with her...
She walked over to one of his small book shelves and picked out that familiar, brown book. She began turning the pages in it, searching for something appropriate to read, feeling like this. Logan had truly been a master of words; turning them into whatever melody, poem or praise he wanted- never missing the affect. In a way she felt like this was invading his privacy, but she couldn't help herself. She felt so close to him when she read this, when she looked at everything in the book. It still smelled as him, as well.
After inhaling his scent in the book, she began reciting the words, written by Logan, in the book, as she had done many times before...
Thou was all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine-
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine
Now, all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams...
SuzyQ - Oh, thanks for the flattery- that'll get you anywhere :) I agree that this could be stretched out, because I think it's a solid idea to rest on. So, there's gonna be several chapter, that I tell you! I love Logan too, that's why I never get close to the famous M/A stories that are usually full of Logan bashing... Thanks again :)
Stephanie18 – Thanks, I'll continue. Can't promise the length, but I'm aiming for making it last for many chapters!
Agmgdafan – I did continue it! Hey, don't thank me… Thanks for reviewing!
worm04 – Thanks, here's the update. Hope to hear from ya again!
Cazza – Yeah, I actually agree. I wasn't sure there were people out there wanting a story like this- since it's a bit AU- but hey, people reviewed, urging me to go on, and I wanted to- so here's what's coming!
Firmament – I know exactly what you mean! Logan's always been the one to be one step behind when it comes to well... real steps; physical challenges and such. I just wanted this to be different, that Logan should change! It's a bit dramatic, sure, but I like the idea.... I just hope you do too! :)
Allison - Here ya go! ;)
A/N: Have something to say? Have an opinion about the story that you wanna share with me? Hey, drop a review, why don't ya!
