Disclaimer: They ain't mine.
A/N: Things are not going as I had planned. Of course, I didn't exactly have this story planned. So then again, maybe this is going perfectly to plan. Oye, what a world.
CHAPTER 5
Maybe Alec just wasn't destined for any point of normalcy on the roadmap of his rather chaotic life.
Laboring over supply lists wasn't helping clear his mind so he threw down the papers against the table, which made a soft "whish" as they slapped down and branched out. He stood from his chair slowly, glancing around the empty Command Center, then stretched lethargically and yawned; Max was seriously cramping his style, not to mention his muscles. Eyes glanced down at a watch. Four-thirty in the friggin' morning. In two hours he'd have to be starting a new day, without the chance of sleeping the last one off. The thought was enough to make him yawn again.
A gruff voice resonated in the empty silence behind him. "Someone up early."
Not even glancing back to see who his possible night owl companion might be, Alec strode over to the computer, ready to bury himself in more work. "Late, actually," he lazily corrected, stifling yet another yawn. This yawing thing was just getting ridiculous. "What are you doin' up, Joshua?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
"Nightmares."
"Same here."
"Annie."
"Not tellin'."
"Max?"
Silence. The deft fingers on the keyboard quickened their already rapid pace, noisily punctuated by the frustration flying out of Alec's fingers. Behind him, Joshua nodded sadly, wishing he were wrong.
"Alec doesn't need to hide from friends."
"Joshua, I hide from everyone, including myself."
A silence fell across the shadowed room. Alec kept himself busy, tapping into new files and checking over their already scant income. Seeing the recent budget cuts made him grimace through his next yawn. "Looks like we're going to need to find some more thugs to steal from." Receiving no response, Alec glanced behind him. Joshua's forlorn air made a small slice in Alec's amiable - but normally impenetrable - exterior. He crossed the floor in hushed strides while Joshua flumped into a creaking couch. The X5 flopped next to him.
Instinctively Alec pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms to secure them in place, which was one of his more vulnerable positions. Joshua had been seeing that particular position a lot more recently, which only grew more frequent with a certain X5 back in the fold. Normally his friend tried to hide it, but after Joshua had stumbled across his late night vigils more than a few times, he started to recognize the symptoms. Alec yawned again, lazily closing his eyes and dropping his dark head to his knees. After several minutes of companionable silence, both transgens felt the tensions slip between them. It was easier to share their two burdens between them than to take on one all alone. A comrade in arms making it less trying to guard against the unpromising night.
The lessened tension made it easier for the hairier of the two to venture on. "Alec want to talk." A statement, not a question. The arms draped across Alec's shins rose and tightened around his knees, effectively cutting off all of his face from his friend's view. Alec shook his head slowly, as if the short brown hair brushing back and forth across the forearms was just too drained to go on.
"Liar."
The hair on the back of Alec's neck leapt to attention. He managed to grind out, "I don't want to talk, Josh."
"What does Alec want?"
Almost faster than the transgen eye could see, the X5 blurred to his feet, his face contorted between despair and rage. "I want to...to...argh!" Losing the grip on his normally even-temper, Alec grabbed one unfortunate crate and threw it against the wall, relishing in its pained cry as it cracked. "I want to...to kick Max to the curb and let her be chopped up by White and his familiars. I want to lock her up and never let her out of my sight again." Alec rambled on and on, pacing back and forth across the floor. "She treated me like crap and then disappeared without so much as a goodbye. So what do I do? I get Logan - Logan of all people! - to help me track her down. Then I ride a couple thousand miles with the guy to pick her sorry carcass up! Do you know how close she was to getting caught? Given another day or two and White would have snatched her and..." The poor guy was so frustrated he couldn't even finished his sentence. His fists flew through the air as if grappling for the words, becoming more and more frustrated when they came back empty each time.
"And here's the real kicker, Joshua. I save her, I bring her back, I make sure no one gives her crap, and what to I get? Nothing! Not so much as a 'Gee, thanks Alec. I didn't realize I could have gotten myself and an innocent six year-old killed.'" Coming across the same unfortunate crate, he kicked it across the room; no small feat, even for a transgenic.
Joshua sat on the couch watching the impassioned tirade, torn between fear and relief. He'd never seen Alec so emotional and heated - not to mention inarticulate -, which was a terrifying difference when considering his normally stoic state; but part of Joshua also saw the moment as a much needed release. He was just glad no one else was there to be a witness, otherwise Alec's standing as the levelheaded leader of Terminal City would be quite efficiently blown to smithereens.
"...And did you know she has had the nerve to avoid me? Yeah, Ray filled me in on that small detail. So I see her in the infirmary the other day, having every last intention of calling her out. And guess what? I got distracted. The next thing I know I'm jumping to help her brat, and when she bounces off I am left with this idiotic grin on my face." He stopped in the middle of the floor, staring down at the dust gratefully taking the chance to settle at his feet. Alec glanced up then, surprised, though it was hard to tell what he was more surprised about - him blowing his top or having such a shocked bystander. "I'm tired of her always having to be a step ahead of me, you know? It's like even now, with me having the competitive edge, I still just can't win." On the word "win," the X5 slammed his fist against the table in repressed frustration, causing his knuckles to bleed and a computer to teeter off the edge of the table and hurtle to the ground unnoticed.
He gracefully collapsed against the table then, taking in strength from the cool metal. Joshua watched as Alec's resolve hardened, the doors clanging shut in his face. Calming down to a rational level, he continued. "I want to be pissed with her...no, I am pissed with her. Why can't she just leave me alone so I can just be pissed and be happy?" Thoroughly sullen, Alec turned and slapped down against the couch and returned to his "vulnerable position." With the exception of Joshua's wide-eyed, stunned silence, it was almost as if the tirade had never taken place. It was like a glitch in time, and suddenly things were back to the norm.
Once Joshua's shock wore off, he began to mull over what Alec had said. His furry head bobbed back and forth, reliving the one-sided conversation - more like an eruption - in his mind. Finally, Joshua came to a conclusion. "Alec wrong."
The X5's head snapped up, thinking over all the possible implications of what his friend had said. "Yeah, you're right. Ray's really not that bad. He's really cute actually, with the blonde hair, and that devilishly cute face. Must have gotten the good looks from his mother but the devilish part..."
"Not what I meant, Alec."
Alec raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Logan's not so bad either." Off of Joshua's stern look, he sighed, "Well, fine. What exactly is it that you mean?"
"Not mad at Max for the reasons you think."
Alec cast his eyes heavenward in concentration and ticked off Max's sins on his fingers. "Desertion, general stupidity, cowardliness, child endangerment, ungratefulness...yeah, I can see why I mad at her for all the wrong reasons." The edge crept back into Alec's voice, as if both amazed and irked that Joshua could even dare bring Max the weakest defense. Sensing his ire, Joshua pacified him. "I'm not defending her, Alec."
"Fine, O great and powerful Oz, what exactly do you mean?"
"Alec mad at Max for all those reasons too. But the real reason is: Max throws Alec."
"Huh?" Alec turned to his friend, knowing that despite a limited word bank, Joshua was incredibly - not to mention eerily - insightful.
"Max throws you off..." He looked questioningly into the air, sniffing for the word. "...killer?"
"Off killer," Alec repeated dumbly. The light bulb flicked on. "Oh, you mean off-kilter." The dog-man nodded emphatically. He leaned forward conspiratorially, moving his heavy hands as if painting in the disease-laden air. "From the beginning, Max always confuse Alec. You're caught in a trap, never know what to feel or think. She always push away, but never letting you go. Now Max come back, seeming happy here, but avoid you. Maybe it is time to...turn table?"
Despite his better efforts, Alec couldn't help but lean forward himself, subtly hoping for a solution. "How?"
"Max avoid you. Knows your anger. Seek her out, she won't know what to think. Don't let her have the power. Piss her off."
Alec flopped back against the arm of the couch, flabbergasted by his hairy conspirator. The wheels began to turn again. And for the second time in what felt like ages, Alec let himself truly smile.
Why hadn't he thought of that?
*****
Gem's head peered over a stack of serviceable metal sheets and wood scraps, soon to be crafted into homes for the ever expanding rat race of Terminal City. Unaware of her audience, Max pried another decently sized wood chunk, let it pass after a quick inspection and threw it on her pile, oblivious of her near rearranging of Gem's pretty features. Despite the obvious dangers, Gem kept her presence to herself and took the chance to give the other X5 a quick inspection.
She'd obviously be getting her weight back to a healthier level but was still a bit on the skinny side. The dirty, slightly curled hair reaching for her shoulders partially covered the smudged, high cheekbones whenever she stooped for another find. Her eyes too sunken, but to this particular beholder, she was still as striking as the day they had met. She wasn't necessarily a beautiful person by physical appearance; her lips were too puffy for that - which were only truly pretty when she smiled -, her hands a bit too stout and fingers too masculine. But her essence, her spirit, captured those who would give her a second glance. Even though subdued and returning with a broken pride, there was still a backbone to Max that made her stand out in the crowd when she stepped back into Terminal City, although stunted by Alec's angry stance and glare. Her grit wasn't cowed by the masses of freaks who were coldly stoical, as well as some of the unwelcome mats several bolder transgenics laid out for her - or on her.
Needless to say, Max had always had herself an admirer in Gem; not to mention several of the males, who were steadily becoming less and less covert in their appreciative glances the more they saw the distance between 452 and her silently protective shield, Alec. Female glares were beginning to tally up too.
Another wooden thud knocked Gem out of her little trip down memory lane, who saw that the wall of surplus leftovers had begun to loom rather precariously over her head since she had checked out. Ducking around the leaning tower of miscellaneous materials, she strolled towards Max with that childlike I-know-something-you-don't-know look smeared across her face. Max glanced up then, and straightened to greet Gem warmly.
"Lovely weather, ain't it?" Both chuckled and threw a dismal glance at the sky, which promised its usual gift to Seattle: rain.
"Yeah," Gem agreed. "The brain parade says we have exactly 30 minutes and 8 seconds before the storm settles in for the night."
"When was this?"
Gem shrugged in amusement and relative indifference. "About an hour ago, give or take 30 minutes." The two shared a smile before the redhead glanced at her watch and returned her attention to the cloud-laden sky which covered the city in late dusk-like darkness, mumbling, "Four, three, two, one..." Then the first adventurous drops fell from the sky, soon joined by millions of cousins, the monsoon pooling in the sunken segments of the streets rapidly.
"Quittin' time!" Gem hollered over the ringing clang of pouring rain on the metal sheets just behind them. Max nodded in agreement, saying, "You know, I get that they're born and bred Manticore alum and all, but the brain parade's accuracy is really starting to freak me out."
"I hear ya!" Gem called back. She nodded down the street where the crowds were beginning to form, hiding from the storm. "I'll race ya!"
"You're on!"
Both tore down the street laughing, gathering with the masses inside the parking garage at the end of Terminal City. The generators kicked in and the lights flickered on, which seem to transform the general disgruntlement of the crowd into a more cheerful mood under the intimately dim lights. Friends roved around looking for other friends, everyone gathering into cozy groups and discussing the day's events and work, not to mention the incident cutting them short. One group's discussion of food flew across the crowd like a wildfire with most of the crowd dispersing in hot pursuit, leaving the others behind.
"How's Ray?"
"Much better. Doc says I can see him in a couple days." Doc was a panther-like jack-of-all-trades, but due to his extensive expertise in the remedial sciences - and the freaks lack of true proficiency - Doc had become the designated surgeon. Personally Max found him infinitely more appealing than Evita. Just the thought of her snide little face brought a scowl to mar Max's good mood.
Mole walked over to the duo staring out into the rain with children's delight, carrying two towels. Although ragged and fraying, they seemed to be the last two left in everyone's rush to get dry. He chucked them and the pair caught them, who began drawing the moisture from their own bodies. Not wanting to be mistaken for engaging in an act of kindness, he easily explained, "The two of you looked like a coupla drowned rats, a real eyesore. I was just tryin' to improve the view, not to mention the fun it was pushing all the scrawny X6's out of the way in the line for towels."
"Gee Mole, you really are a humanitarian," Max deadpanned. "Are you sure you don't want to keep the towels for yourself? We really would hate to have you melt under all that water."
Catching on to the line Max was throwing, he retorted, "Hey, do I look like the kind of guy who wants a pair of ruby slippers?" He paused and puffed on his cigar thoughtfully. "I will take that dog though, but I'm gonna need just a little bit of hot sauce."
Max laughed. "Don't tell Joshua."
Turning away towards the smell of food, Mole replied, "I won't if you won't." He strolled away, leaving the aroma of fresh Cuban nicotine behind to clog both the X5's sensitive nasal passages.
"You know, despite the increasing crime rates since the Pulse, second-hand smoke is still a leading killer in the States," Max called after him. Halfway across the compound and drowned out by the heavy rainfall, she thought she heard him reply with something akin to "Send me your funeral bill!"
Still chuckling, Max was surprised by the assessing look she intercepted from Gem. "What?"
The redhead shrugged and leaned against a chipped cement pillar, her curious expression half-covered by shadows. "I can't decide if you know or not. And if you don't know, I'm not too sure I want to be the one to tell you."
Max was thoroughly bemused. "What do you mean?"
"Well obviously you don't know." A pregnant pause. "Funds are low again. Rumor has it that Alec is going to ask you to help run a scam."
"Well I guess the 'to tell or not to tell' debate flew right by," Max deadpanned, not at all believing. She laughed and turned away, her own stomach beginning to demand something warm - and from the smell wafting through the air, cheesy.
Gem's hand latched on her arm. "I'm serious, Max. I honestly think he's recruiting you. And it's pretty obvious to everyone in T.C. that you are less than calm around him. Everyone's caught your ducking act whenever you see Alec around the corner, dragging Ray by the wrist. By the way, you should probably be more careful. I think you've given that poor kid whiplash a couple times."
Max chuckled again, a little more forced this time, refusing to even consider such a ludicrous possibility. She stared hard at the other X5, trying to weigh the credibility. While one side of her mind argued her current status didn't exactly give her means of access to the thrill of B & E, the other kept bouncing back with Gem's reliability. She wasn't the kind to lie anymore than she was the kind prone to gullibility and gossip. Part of Max's ornery feline DNA beamed at the thought of returning to her more carefree - albeit slightly lawless - roots, but any excitement kept being shot down by recalling Alec's heavy glowers.
Gem glanced behind her now troubled friend to see the most recent arrivals coming for sanctuary from the ever-thundering storm. A young man and boy, X5 and X6 probably. They ran tightly together under their makeshift umbrella - a coat or jacket perhaps? - through puddles the size of Lake Erie, blissfully uncaring of the muck filling their shoes and the lower halves of their frazzled jeans. Like Max and Gem's entrance, the two crossed the threshold laughing, several yards away from Max's turned back. Gem couldn't identify them with the X5's face turned away and the younger boy fairly hidden behind his body. Both were thoroughly soaked and the taller of the duo's leather jacket - the former umbrella - was weighed down in watery mud and grainy gravel bits, which also splashed lightly across his neck.
A small smile twittered across Gem's lips, the motherly instincts that even Manticore couldn't beat out warmed by the disorderly Norman Rockwell-like moment. When the X5's face turned from his companion's to her line of sight, the warmth of the grin froze over like an early flower drowned in a late frost. Alec, unaware of her apparent discomfort, beamed in her direction. Gem made a commendable amount of eye contact and managed a small nod. But when Alec's curiosity drifted to her friend, his eyes too froze over in recognition. Alec shooed the boy - who now Gem could see was Dalton - away to grab some grub, his eyes boring into Max's head, his eyes terrified of her turning around and daring her to at the same time.
A baby's cry swam around the raindrops and pierced her ear, maternal instinct telling her it belonged to her daughter, undoubtedly on her own quest for a little bit love and attention - not to mention food. Bidding a quick good-bye to the very pensive Max, she rescued the baby from Joshua's furry arms, both parties looking relieved at Gem's timely rescue.
Deep in thought, Max turned on her heel then, unwittingly - and blindly - stalking in Alec's direction. She brushed right by his stiff body, and he made every attempt to ignore the sweet aroma of her hair. Irked at his own emotional and weak reaction, he strode after Dalton. The greasy, stomach-churning smell of leftover rations was a welcome relief from her wet lilac scent.
*****
Max grew tired of pacing outside Ray's room and wilted into a nearby chair. Judging by the upholstery and reclining footrest, she drowsily guessed it had been a Lazy Boy in its prime. It had been one of Luke's finds, having rescued it from the termites and other varmints in their alleys. It was a running joke that the streets of T.C. were some kind of twisted Flea Market, chockfull of hidden treasures if transgenics would just take a look for the respectable surfaces miles below the layers of soot and rat piss. Max leaned against the slightly decayed headrest and closed her eyes. Luke had done a very nice job cleaning the recliner up, and she made a mental note to repay the man for giving her a decent chair to rest in for the night.
Against her closed lids the lightening swam again almost behind the thunder that made the hallway tremble in fear. The storm was right on top of them, beating against the shards of broken windows and flooding the streets as if it too had some sort of secret agenda to wipe out the transgenic haunt. Max smirked and shrugged to herself, not surprised if the weather did harbor some hostility. Everyone else did. The next bass drum of thunder echoed through Max's heart, causing her eyelids to snap open in surprise and slight fear. The dark lines of the hallway intermittently lit by the lightening created an eerie Manticore/The Shining aura she really didn't care for. She rose from the recliner quickly and crossed to the window on the other wall. Max glanced through the window - only a formality, it was more like over the broken glass - and out into the rain, which cut across the broken shards and quickly soaked the top half of her body. As deafening as the storm was on her sensitive ears, visibility was only slightly better - with or without dilated pupils. It was like Hell decide to personally showcase their overwhelming drumline and lightshow for Terminal City.
And Ray didn't like storms. Max glanced fitfully back to his door, straining her ears in between thunder spurts to catch any whimpers leaking under the crack of his doorway. She chided herself for worrying, knowing Doc was in there right now taking care of the unconscious boy. The Doc had sedated Ray to help him heal physically while not letting his tiny sanity slip during the storm. But still, even knowing Ray was well attended and out cold didn't allay all of her fears. The fear of him waking up and being greeted by the storm and her useless to hold him and calm him wore on her nerves. She repeated her mantra to herself, "Ray is all right. Ray is all right..."
After the fifty or sixtieth time she began to believe it, also coming back to some more important issues that needed to be brought to her attention. Like the fact that she was soaked, for example. Glancing down at her feet, bare and in danger of becoming flooded by her drippings, she scowled at her own stupidity. Wading across her newly developed pond, she sat down on the floor - choosing not to spoil Luke's masterpiece any further. The wind began to whip down the dark corridor. Max shivered but was too afraid to leave Ray's side - so to speak - not to mention too tired to go and change or even grab something for her to cover herself with. Admitting defeat to her weariness, she wrapped her arms around her legs for warmth and let her head loll forward to her knees. Within moments - despite a thundering storm - Max was dead to the world.
*****
It was common knowledge that the Doc was a night owl. Unable to sleep - like most the residents of T.C. on a stormy night like this -, a transgenic stole down a passageway of their makeshift medical center, instinctively knowing he'd find the Doc in the Familiar's room. He came across the landmark - Luke's recliner - outside of Ray's room, and reached for the doorknob. A pause came over him suddenly, and he glanced back towards the chair.
There.
On the floor a transgenic curled into itself for some much needed body warmth. Curious that it would find sanctuary right in front of the broken window letting the storm splash in, he crouched down and touched its shoulder. Deep, even breathing and tiny snores told him that it - she, by the length of her hair - was fast asleep. He brushed the hair off the side of her angled face and froze momentarily upon recognition before tucking the strands safely behind her ear. The transgenic crouched on the floor several minutes debating what to do - or not to do. Giving himself up for lost, he slowly removed the jacket from his shoulders and delicately placed it around hers. She mumbled as he pulled her forward so the jacket would cover her back, and he fought a small smile with every fiber of his being, keeping his face decidedly blank.
Standing silently, he slipped into Ray's room.
*****
Max woke to a very tiny, very persistent hand shaking her shoulder. "Aunt Max, come on wake up. I'm hungry. I need to eat." The blonde boy turned his face away as Max cracked open one sleep-encrusted lid. When he turned back, it closed again. "Please wake up," he whined. He beseeched some help. "Doc, she won't wake up," he said, even whinier this time.
"That's too bad," the Doc replied, strolling out of Ray's room and tucking a pen into his shirt pocket. "She'd be so glad to hear you're back to one hundred percent." Doc smiled gently down at the impatient boy. "Try again."
With a small huff, he gripped her shoulder with both hands, rapidly becoming desperate. "Aunt Max," he sang. "Pleaaaaaaassseee..." Then several things happened in order.
Max's eyes snapped open.
Ray's hands flew over his head in surprise.
Seeing an opening, she jumped for the attack.
Max and Ray fell to the ground in giggles, followed by Doc's own chuckle.
"Well, I see everything is back to normal with you two and all is right with the world," the Doc said, daintily stepping over the dog - er, catpile - on the floor. Both participants in the heap straightened themselves and said in unison, "Thanks, Doc!" He beamed a bright smile and shrugged his hairy shoulders as if to say, "It was nothing."
Max turned back to her blond companion, feeling the world lift off her shoulders with him in her arms again. "Hungry?"
"Aunt Max, I'm always hungry."
Max laughed, and the two set off in hot pursuit of food. The Doc smiled at their departing backs. Quite the pair they made. Turning back to his work, an article on the ground caught his attention. He stooped down to pick it up, curious.
*****
"Hey Alec."
"Hey Josh." Alec turned around from the stubborn generator he was helping Dalton and Mole with, wiping his hands with a well-worn towel. He looked like the average grease monkey - worse in fact - smeared from head to toe. "Where did all the grease come from?" Joshua asked innocently. Dalton had the decency to look embarrassed. Alec shrugged good-naturedly. "Nowhere in particular. Dalton was just trying to expand his horizons to the more artistic side and decided to use me as his first canvas." He turned to the red-cheeked boy and smiled, his eyes sparkling with good humor and understanding. "I was quite honored."
Joshua nodded in comprehension, noticing the hero worship the other X held for Alec. "Dalton dumped a big bucket."
Alec nodded to his friend. "Huge would be a better word."
Joshua suddenly came to his better senses remembering why he had sought Alec out. "Here, Doc found your jacket in the hallway."
Alec's smile dropped its good humor, becoming both mocking and cold. His eyes were lifeless and Manticorian, like the way Joshua used to see them when he first started talking about Rachel. He looked as if he just swallowed a cruel memory. The X5 recovered quickly though. "Uh, thanks Josh, just put it over on the chair. My hands are all tied up."
And he meant it. Both ways.
*****
A/N: I know it's awkward still, especially with the contrast between Alec's attitude before and now. But seriously, would Alec forgive and forget that quickly? ("No" would probably be the most correct answer.) But at the same time, I want to show that he still has a soft spot - for lack of better term - for Max. He loves her for crying out loud!
A/N: Things are not going as I had planned. Of course, I didn't exactly have this story planned. So then again, maybe this is going perfectly to plan. Oye, what a world.
CHAPTER 5
Maybe Alec just wasn't destined for any point of normalcy on the roadmap of his rather chaotic life.
Laboring over supply lists wasn't helping clear his mind so he threw down the papers against the table, which made a soft "whish" as they slapped down and branched out. He stood from his chair slowly, glancing around the empty Command Center, then stretched lethargically and yawned; Max was seriously cramping his style, not to mention his muscles. Eyes glanced down at a watch. Four-thirty in the friggin' morning. In two hours he'd have to be starting a new day, without the chance of sleeping the last one off. The thought was enough to make him yawn again.
A gruff voice resonated in the empty silence behind him. "Someone up early."
Not even glancing back to see who his possible night owl companion might be, Alec strode over to the computer, ready to bury himself in more work. "Late, actually," he lazily corrected, stifling yet another yawn. This yawing thing was just getting ridiculous. "What are you doin' up, Joshua?"
"Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither."
"Nightmares."
"Same here."
"Annie."
"Not tellin'."
"Max?"
Silence. The deft fingers on the keyboard quickened their already rapid pace, noisily punctuated by the frustration flying out of Alec's fingers. Behind him, Joshua nodded sadly, wishing he were wrong.
"Alec doesn't need to hide from friends."
"Joshua, I hide from everyone, including myself."
A silence fell across the shadowed room. Alec kept himself busy, tapping into new files and checking over their already scant income. Seeing the recent budget cuts made him grimace through his next yawn. "Looks like we're going to need to find some more thugs to steal from." Receiving no response, Alec glanced behind him. Joshua's forlorn air made a small slice in Alec's amiable - but normally impenetrable - exterior. He crossed the floor in hushed strides while Joshua flumped into a creaking couch. The X5 flopped next to him.
Instinctively Alec pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms to secure them in place, which was one of his more vulnerable positions. Joshua had been seeing that particular position a lot more recently, which only grew more frequent with a certain X5 back in the fold. Normally his friend tried to hide it, but after Joshua had stumbled across his late night vigils more than a few times, he started to recognize the symptoms. Alec yawned again, lazily closing his eyes and dropping his dark head to his knees. After several minutes of companionable silence, both transgens felt the tensions slip between them. It was easier to share their two burdens between them than to take on one all alone. A comrade in arms making it less trying to guard against the unpromising night.
The lessened tension made it easier for the hairier of the two to venture on. "Alec want to talk." A statement, not a question. The arms draped across Alec's shins rose and tightened around his knees, effectively cutting off all of his face from his friend's view. Alec shook his head slowly, as if the short brown hair brushing back and forth across the forearms was just too drained to go on.
"Liar."
The hair on the back of Alec's neck leapt to attention. He managed to grind out, "I don't want to talk, Josh."
"What does Alec want?"
Almost faster than the transgen eye could see, the X5 blurred to his feet, his face contorted between despair and rage. "I want to...to...argh!" Losing the grip on his normally even-temper, Alec grabbed one unfortunate crate and threw it against the wall, relishing in its pained cry as it cracked. "I want to...to kick Max to the curb and let her be chopped up by White and his familiars. I want to lock her up and never let her out of my sight again." Alec rambled on and on, pacing back and forth across the floor. "She treated me like crap and then disappeared without so much as a goodbye. So what do I do? I get Logan - Logan of all people! - to help me track her down. Then I ride a couple thousand miles with the guy to pick her sorry carcass up! Do you know how close she was to getting caught? Given another day or two and White would have snatched her and..." The poor guy was so frustrated he couldn't even finished his sentence. His fists flew through the air as if grappling for the words, becoming more and more frustrated when they came back empty each time.
"And here's the real kicker, Joshua. I save her, I bring her back, I make sure no one gives her crap, and what to I get? Nothing! Not so much as a 'Gee, thanks Alec. I didn't realize I could have gotten myself and an innocent six year-old killed.'" Coming across the same unfortunate crate, he kicked it across the room; no small feat, even for a transgenic.
Joshua sat on the couch watching the impassioned tirade, torn between fear and relief. He'd never seen Alec so emotional and heated - not to mention inarticulate -, which was a terrifying difference when considering his normally stoic state; but part of Joshua also saw the moment as a much needed release. He was just glad no one else was there to be a witness, otherwise Alec's standing as the levelheaded leader of Terminal City would be quite efficiently blown to smithereens.
"...And did you know she has had the nerve to avoid me? Yeah, Ray filled me in on that small detail. So I see her in the infirmary the other day, having every last intention of calling her out. And guess what? I got distracted. The next thing I know I'm jumping to help her brat, and when she bounces off I am left with this idiotic grin on my face." He stopped in the middle of the floor, staring down at the dust gratefully taking the chance to settle at his feet. Alec glanced up then, surprised, though it was hard to tell what he was more surprised about - him blowing his top or having such a shocked bystander. "I'm tired of her always having to be a step ahead of me, you know? It's like even now, with me having the competitive edge, I still just can't win." On the word "win," the X5 slammed his fist against the table in repressed frustration, causing his knuckles to bleed and a computer to teeter off the edge of the table and hurtle to the ground unnoticed.
He gracefully collapsed against the table then, taking in strength from the cool metal. Joshua watched as Alec's resolve hardened, the doors clanging shut in his face. Calming down to a rational level, he continued. "I want to be pissed with her...no, I am pissed with her. Why can't she just leave me alone so I can just be pissed and be happy?" Thoroughly sullen, Alec turned and slapped down against the couch and returned to his "vulnerable position." With the exception of Joshua's wide-eyed, stunned silence, it was almost as if the tirade had never taken place. It was like a glitch in time, and suddenly things were back to the norm.
Once Joshua's shock wore off, he began to mull over what Alec had said. His furry head bobbed back and forth, reliving the one-sided conversation - more like an eruption - in his mind. Finally, Joshua came to a conclusion. "Alec wrong."
The X5's head snapped up, thinking over all the possible implications of what his friend had said. "Yeah, you're right. Ray's really not that bad. He's really cute actually, with the blonde hair, and that devilishly cute face. Must have gotten the good looks from his mother but the devilish part..."
"Not what I meant, Alec."
Alec raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine. Logan's not so bad either." Off of Joshua's stern look, he sighed, "Well, fine. What exactly is it that you mean?"
"Not mad at Max for the reasons you think."
Alec cast his eyes heavenward in concentration and ticked off Max's sins on his fingers. "Desertion, general stupidity, cowardliness, child endangerment, ungratefulness...yeah, I can see why I mad at her for all the wrong reasons." The edge crept back into Alec's voice, as if both amazed and irked that Joshua could even dare bring Max the weakest defense. Sensing his ire, Joshua pacified him. "I'm not defending her, Alec."
"Fine, O great and powerful Oz, what exactly do you mean?"
"Alec mad at Max for all those reasons too. But the real reason is: Max throws Alec."
"Huh?" Alec turned to his friend, knowing that despite a limited word bank, Joshua was incredibly - not to mention eerily - insightful.
"Max throws you off..." He looked questioningly into the air, sniffing for the word. "...killer?"
"Off killer," Alec repeated dumbly. The light bulb flicked on. "Oh, you mean off-kilter." The dog-man nodded emphatically. He leaned forward conspiratorially, moving his heavy hands as if painting in the disease-laden air. "From the beginning, Max always confuse Alec. You're caught in a trap, never know what to feel or think. She always push away, but never letting you go. Now Max come back, seeming happy here, but avoid you. Maybe it is time to...turn table?"
Despite his better efforts, Alec couldn't help but lean forward himself, subtly hoping for a solution. "How?"
"Max avoid you. Knows your anger. Seek her out, she won't know what to think. Don't let her have the power. Piss her off."
Alec flopped back against the arm of the couch, flabbergasted by his hairy conspirator. The wheels began to turn again. And for the second time in what felt like ages, Alec let himself truly smile.
Why hadn't he thought of that?
*****
Gem's head peered over a stack of serviceable metal sheets and wood scraps, soon to be crafted into homes for the ever expanding rat race of Terminal City. Unaware of her audience, Max pried another decently sized wood chunk, let it pass after a quick inspection and threw it on her pile, oblivious of her near rearranging of Gem's pretty features. Despite the obvious dangers, Gem kept her presence to herself and took the chance to give the other X5 a quick inspection.
She'd obviously be getting her weight back to a healthier level but was still a bit on the skinny side. The dirty, slightly curled hair reaching for her shoulders partially covered the smudged, high cheekbones whenever she stooped for another find. Her eyes too sunken, but to this particular beholder, she was still as striking as the day they had met. She wasn't necessarily a beautiful person by physical appearance; her lips were too puffy for that - which were only truly pretty when she smiled -, her hands a bit too stout and fingers too masculine. But her essence, her spirit, captured those who would give her a second glance. Even though subdued and returning with a broken pride, there was still a backbone to Max that made her stand out in the crowd when she stepped back into Terminal City, although stunted by Alec's angry stance and glare. Her grit wasn't cowed by the masses of freaks who were coldly stoical, as well as some of the unwelcome mats several bolder transgenics laid out for her - or on her.
Needless to say, Max had always had herself an admirer in Gem; not to mention several of the males, who were steadily becoming less and less covert in their appreciative glances the more they saw the distance between 452 and her silently protective shield, Alec. Female glares were beginning to tally up too.
Another wooden thud knocked Gem out of her little trip down memory lane, who saw that the wall of surplus leftovers had begun to loom rather precariously over her head since she had checked out. Ducking around the leaning tower of miscellaneous materials, she strolled towards Max with that childlike I-know-something-you-don't-know look smeared across her face. Max glanced up then, and straightened to greet Gem warmly.
"Lovely weather, ain't it?" Both chuckled and threw a dismal glance at the sky, which promised its usual gift to Seattle: rain.
"Yeah," Gem agreed. "The brain parade says we have exactly 30 minutes and 8 seconds before the storm settles in for the night."
"When was this?"
Gem shrugged in amusement and relative indifference. "About an hour ago, give or take 30 minutes." The two shared a smile before the redhead glanced at her watch and returned her attention to the cloud-laden sky which covered the city in late dusk-like darkness, mumbling, "Four, three, two, one..." Then the first adventurous drops fell from the sky, soon joined by millions of cousins, the monsoon pooling in the sunken segments of the streets rapidly.
"Quittin' time!" Gem hollered over the ringing clang of pouring rain on the metal sheets just behind them. Max nodded in agreement, saying, "You know, I get that they're born and bred Manticore alum and all, but the brain parade's accuracy is really starting to freak me out."
"I hear ya!" Gem called back. She nodded down the street where the crowds were beginning to form, hiding from the storm. "I'll race ya!"
"You're on!"
Both tore down the street laughing, gathering with the masses inside the parking garage at the end of Terminal City. The generators kicked in and the lights flickered on, which seem to transform the general disgruntlement of the crowd into a more cheerful mood under the intimately dim lights. Friends roved around looking for other friends, everyone gathering into cozy groups and discussing the day's events and work, not to mention the incident cutting them short. One group's discussion of food flew across the crowd like a wildfire with most of the crowd dispersing in hot pursuit, leaving the others behind.
"How's Ray?"
"Much better. Doc says I can see him in a couple days." Doc was a panther-like jack-of-all-trades, but due to his extensive expertise in the remedial sciences - and the freaks lack of true proficiency - Doc had become the designated surgeon. Personally Max found him infinitely more appealing than Evita. Just the thought of her snide little face brought a scowl to mar Max's good mood.
Mole walked over to the duo staring out into the rain with children's delight, carrying two towels. Although ragged and fraying, they seemed to be the last two left in everyone's rush to get dry. He chucked them and the pair caught them, who began drawing the moisture from their own bodies. Not wanting to be mistaken for engaging in an act of kindness, he easily explained, "The two of you looked like a coupla drowned rats, a real eyesore. I was just tryin' to improve the view, not to mention the fun it was pushing all the scrawny X6's out of the way in the line for towels."
"Gee Mole, you really are a humanitarian," Max deadpanned. "Are you sure you don't want to keep the towels for yourself? We really would hate to have you melt under all that water."
Catching on to the line Max was throwing, he retorted, "Hey, do I look like the kind of guy who wants a pair of ruby slippers?" He paused and puffed on his cigar thoughtfully. "I will take that dog though, but I'm gonna need just a little bit of hot sauce."
Max laughed. "Don't tell Joshua."
Turning away towards the smell of food, Mole replied, "I won't if you won't." He strolled away, leaving the aroma of fresh Cuban nicotine behind to clog both the X5's sensitive nasal passages.
"You know, despite the increasing crime rates since the Pulse, second-hand smoke is still a leading killer in the States," Max called after him. Halfway across the compound and drowned out by the heavy rainfall, she thought she heard him reply with something akin to "Send me your funeral bill!"
Still chuckling, Max was surprised by the assessing look she intercepted from Gem. "What?"
The redhead shrugged and leaned against a chipped cement pillar, her curious expression half-covered by shadows. "I can't decide if you know or not. And if you don't know, I'm not too sure I want to be the one to tell you."
Max was thoroughly bemused. "What do you mean?"
"Well obviously you don't know." A pregnant pause. "Funds are low again. Rumor has it that Alec is going to ask you to help run a scam."
"Well I guess the 'to tell or not to tell' debate flew right by," Max deadpanned, not at all believing. She laughed and turned away, her own stomach beginning to demand something warm - and from the smell wafting through the air, cheesy.
Gem's hand latched on her arm. "I'm serious, Max. I honestly think he's recruiting you. And it's pretty obvious to everyone in T.C. that you are less than calm around him. Everyone's caught your ducking act whenever you see Alec around the corner, dragging Ray by the wrist. By the way, you should probably be more careful. I think you've given that poor kid whiplash a couple times."
Max chuckled again, a little more forced this time, refusing to even consider such a ludicrous possibility. She stared hard at the other X5, trying to weigh the credibility. While one side of her mind argued her current status didn't exactly give her means of access to the thrill of B & E, the other kept bouncing back with Gem's reliability. She wasn't the kind to lie anymore than she was the kind prone to gullibility and gossip. Part of Max's ornery feline DNA beamed at the thought of returning to her more carefree - albeit slightly lawless - roots, but any excitement kept being shot down by recalling Alec's heavy glowers.
Gem glanced behind her now troubled friend to see the most recent arrivals coming for sanctuary from the ever-thundering storm. A young man and boy, X5 and X6 probably. They ran tightly together under their makeshift umbrella - a coat or jacket perhaps? - through puddles the size of Lake Erie, blissfully uncaring of the muck filling their shoes and the lower halves of their frazzled jeans. Like Max and Gem's entrance, the two crossed the threshold laughing, several yards away from Max's turned back. Gem couldn't identify them with the X5's face turned away and the younger boy fairly hidden behind his body. Both were thoroughly soaked and the taller of the duo's leather jacket - the former umbrella - was weighed down in watery mud and grainy gravel bits, which also splashed lightly across his neck.
A small smile twittered across Gem's lips, the motherly instincts that even Manticore couldn't beat out warmed by the disorderly Norman Rockwell-like moment. When the X5's face turned from his companion's to her line of sight, the warmth of the grin froze over like an early flower drowned in a late frost. Alec, unaware of her apparent discomfort, beamed in her direction. Gem made a commendable amount of eye contact and managed a small nod. But when Alec's curiosity drifted to her friend, his eyes too froze over in recognition. Alec shooed the boy - who now Gem could see was Dalton - away to grab some grub, his eyes boring into Max's head, his eyes terrified of her turning around and daring her to at the same time.
A baby's cry swam around the raindrops and pierced her ear, maternal instinct telling her it belonged to her daughter, undoubtedly on her own quest for a little bit love and attention - not to mention food. Bidding a quick good-bye to the very pensive Max, she rescued the baby from Joshua's furry arms, both parties looking relieved at Gem's timely rescue.
Deep in thought, Max turned on her heel then, unwittingly - and blindly - stalking in Alec's direction. She brushed right by his stiff body, and he made every attempt to ignore the sweet aroma of her hair. Irked at his own emotional and weak reaction, he strode after Dalton. The greasy, stomach-churning smell of leftover rations was a welcome relief from her wet lilac scent.
*****
Max grew tired of pacing outside Ray's room and wilted into a nearby chair. Judging by the upholstery and reclining footrest, she drowsily guessed it had been a Lazy Boy in its prime. It had been one of Luke's finds, having rescued it from the termites and other varmints in their alleys. It was a running joke that the streets of T.C. were some kind of twisted Flea Market, chockfull of hidden treasures if transgenics would just take a look for the respectable surfaces miles below the layers of soot and rat piss. Max leaned against the slightly decayed headrest and closed her eyes. Luke had done a very nice job cleaning the recliner up, and she made a mental note to repay the man for giving her a decent chair to rest in for the night.
Against her closed lids the lightening swam again almost behind the thunder that made the hallway tremble in fear. The storm was right on top of them, beating against the shards of broken windows and flooding the streets as if it too had some sort of secret agenda to wipe out the transgenic haunt. Max smirked and shrugged to herself, not surprised if the weather did harbor some hostility. Everyone else did. The next bass drum of thunder echoed through Max's heart, causing her eyelids to snap open in surprise and slight fear. The dark lines of the hallway intermittently lit by the lightening created an eerie Manticore/The Shining aura she really didn't care for. She rose from the recliner quickly and crossed to the window on the other wall. Max glanced through the window - only a formality, it was more like over the broken glass - and out into the rain, which cut across the broken shards and quickly soaked the top half of her body. As deafening as the storm was on her sensitive ears, visibility was only slightly better - with or without dilated pupils. It was like Hell decide to personally showcase their overwhelming drumline and lightshow for Terminal City.
And Ray didn't like storms. Max glanced fitfully back to his door, straining her ears in between thunder spurts to catch any whimpers leaking under the crack of his doorway. She chided herself for worrying, knowing Doc was in there right now taking care of the unconscious boy. The Doc had sedated Ray to help him heal physically while not letting his tiny sanity slip during the storm. But still, even knowing Ray was well attended and out cold didn't allay all of her fears. The fear of him waking up and being greeted by the storm and her useless to hold him and calm him wore on her nerves. She repeated her mantra to herself, "Ray is all right. Ray is all right..."
After the fifty or sixtieth time she began to believe it, also coming back to some more important issues that needed to be brought to her attention. Like the fact that she was soaked, for example. Glancing down at her feet, bare and in danger of becoming flooded by her drippings, she scowled at her own stupidity. Wading across her newly developed pond, she sat down on the floor - choosing not to spoil Luke's masterpiece any further. The wind began to whip down the dark corridor. Max shivered but was too afraid to leave Ray's side - so to speak - not to mention too tired to go and change or even grab something for her to cover herself with. Admitting defeat to her weariness, she wrapped her arms around her legs for warmth and let her head loll forward to her knees. Within moments - despite a thundering storm - Max was dead to the world.
*****
It was common knowledge that the Doc was a night owl. Unable to sleep - like most the residents of T.C. on a stormy night like this -, a transgenic stole down a passageway of their makeshift medical center, instinctively knowing he'd find the Doc in the Familiar's room. He came across the landmark - Luke's recliner - outside of Ray's room, and reached for the doorknob. A pause came over him suddenly, and he glanced back towards the chair.
There.
On the floor a transgenic curled into itself for some much needed body warmth. Curious that it would find sanctuary right in front of the broken window letting the storm splash in, he crouched down and touched its shoulder. Deep, even breathing and tiny snores told him that it - she, by the length of her hair - was fast asleep. He brushed the hair off the side of her angled face and froze momentarily upon recognition before tucking the strands safely behind her ear. The transgenic crouched on the floor several minutes debating what to do - or not to do. Giving himself up for lost, he slowly removed the jacket from his shoulders and delicately placed it around hers. She mumbled as he pulled her forward so the jacket would cover her back, and he fought a small smile with every fiber of his being, keeping his face decidedly blank.
Standing silently, he slipped into Ray's room.
*****
Max woke to a very tiny, very persistent hand shaking her shoulder. "Aunt Max, come on wake up. I'm hungry. I need to eat." The blonde boy turned his face away as Max cracked open one sleep-encrusted lid. When he turned back, it closed again. "Please wake up," he whined. He beseeched some help. "Doc, she won't wake up," he said, even whinier this time.
"That's too bad," the Doc replied, strolling out of Ray's room and tucking a pen into his shirt pocket. "She'd be so glad to hear you're back to one hundred percent." Doc smiled gently down at the impatient boy. "Try again."
With a small huff, he gripped her shoulder with both hands, rapidly becoming desperate. "Aunt Max," he sang. "Pleaaaaaaassseee..." Then several things happened in order.
Max's eyes snapped open.
Ray's hands flew over his head in surprise.
Seeing an opening, she jumped for the attack.
Max and Ray fell to the ground in giggles, followed by Doc's own chuckle.
"Well, I see everything is back to normal with you two and all is right with the world," the Doc said, daintily stepping over the dog - er, catpile - on the floor. Both participants in the heap straightened themselves and said in unison, "Thanks, Doc!" He beamed a bright smile and shrugged his hairy shoulders as if to say, "It was nothing."
Max turned back to her blond companion, feeling the world lift off her shoulders with him in her arms again. "Hungry?"
"Aunt Max, I'm always hungry."
Max laughed, and the two set off in hot pursuit of food. The Doc smiled at their departing backs. Quite the pair they made. Turning back to his work, an article on the ground caught his attention. He stooped down to pick it up, curious.
*****
"Hey Alec."
"Hey Josh." Alec turned around from the stubborn generator he was helping Dalton and Mole with, wiping his hands with a well-worn towel. He looked like the average grease monkey - worse in fact - smeared from head to toe. "Where did all the grease come from?" Joshua asked innocently. Dalton had the decency to look embarrassed. Alec shrugged good-naturedly. "Nowhere in particular. Dalton was just trying to expand his horizons to the more artistic side and decided to use me as his first canvas." He turned to the red-cheeked boy and smiled, his eyes sparkling with good humor and understanding. "I was quite honored."
Joshua nodded in comprehension, noticing the hero worship the other X held for Alec. "Dalton dumped a big bucket."
Alec nodded to his friend. "Huge would be a better word."
Joshua suddenly came to his better senses remembering why he had sought Alec out. "Here, Doc found your jacket in the hallway."
Alec's smile dropped its good humor, becoming both mocking and cold. His eyes were lifeless and Manticorian, like the way Joshua used to see them when he first started talking about Rachel. He looked as if he just swallowed a cruel memory. The X5 recovered quickly though. "Uh, thanks Josh, just put it over on the chair. My hands are all tied up."
And he meant it. Both ways.
*****
A/N: I know it's awkward still, especially with the contrast between Alec's attitude before and now. But seriously, would Alec forgive and forget that quickly? ("No" would probably be the most correct answer.) But at the same time, I want to show that he still has a soft spot - for lack of better term - for Max. He loves her for crying out loud!