Disclaimer: See chapter one
A/N: Many thanks to Somebody's Angel for trying to make this text a little more "english" and better.
To all those people who reviewed and wrote encouraging and positive: THANK YOU SO MUCH!
This is for you guys! Have fun.
*
Chapter 4
*
"Hey," Max had entered his apartment expecting to find him typing away on his computers. But all lights in the office had been switched off, just like the lights in the rest of the apartment.
She found him sitting on the couch, staring thoughtfully into a glass of scotch; the bottle was standing on the low table. She had hardly seen him drink anything but wine or an occasional beer.
Two candles offered a flickering light that bathed his face in all kinds of different shades. He looked tired.
At the sound of her coming closer he raised his eyes, obviously surprised by her appearance. "Hey, thought you were at Crash."
"I was." She sat down in front of the couch in his wheelchair and looked at him. "You okay?"
"You asked that before." He couldn't take his eyes from where she had made herself comfortable- comfortable, right!
For a moment Max wondered if he didn't want her to sit there. But to hell with it! She kept telling him that the chair was not an issue for her. He would just have to deal with it.
"Did you find a way to help Randy?" she asked putting one foot on the seat and putting her arms around her leg, resting her chin on her knee.
He sighed, pushed up to put the glass back on the table and then leaned back again, his hands rubbing over his face, defeated. "There's not much I or Eyes Only can do, I'm afraid. There aren't many organs on the market and a lot of people need one desperately."
"Shit." Max looked at the bottle and the glass. The liquid was still moving in it. "Do you mind?"
"Help yourself."
She took a careful sip from Logan's glass and coughed involuntarily. "Hell, that burns!"
He couldn't help but smile. In moments like this she was just a twenty year old girl. He loved those rare moments when her shields crumpled and all that was left of the tough soldier was Max.
The liquid was burning in her throat, but a comfortable warmth spread through her body after a second. She certainly hoped it was due to the Scotch and not due to the appearance of the handsome guy seated across from her.
"So you don't think he'll make it?" she tried to distract herself from thinking about Logan.
"I don't know." Logan tiredly massaged his temples and then reached for his glass again and took a sip. He then held the glass in his hand, his index finger running in circles around the rim. "When you are a college student, your entire life lies ahead of you. We had so many plans, and now…"
Max knew he wasn't just talking about Randy anymore. "You once told me the universe is right on schedule."
"What's right about this?" he asked frustrated, knowing fully well that Max couldn't give him an answer and he appreciated that she didn't try. He was tired of those flowery phrases like 'it's all gonna be fine'. They didn't mean a thing to the person affected. It just wasn't that simple.
Logan sighed. "I think I'll head to bed. Do you wanna stay in the guest bedroom?" He looked at her almost pleadingly- at least that's how it looked to Max.
"Yeah, thanks." She stood up and busied herself with taking the bottle and glass to the kitchen while he transferred.
When she returned from the kitchen he was on his way to the bedroom. "Night, Max."
"Good night." She settled down on the sofa, in the same spot he had just vacated; it still felt warm under her. She put her arms on the backrest, staring out at the city below. A light drizzle somehow made it appear further away, almost surreal. She could hear Logan in the bathroom.
Was this the way her life was meant to be? Somewhere, out of reach of real life, with some one she…well, loved? But he was just as untouchable and unreachable. She never made any progress with Logan. She couldn't blame it on him, well, not entirely. She was just as confused and scared. But if they both felt that way, why couldn't they just admit it? 'Because we're both stubborn as hell.' She sighed, if the universe was right on schedule, maybe this was the way it was meant to be? Maybe things would make sense one day. Maybe, hopefully.
*
Suddenly she could hear a noise coming from Logan's bedroom. She listened carefully for a second. When the noise didn't cease she sneaked closer, silently opening the door to his bedroom enough so that she could see through the crack.
Logan was lying on his side, groaning, his face twisted in pain. He was awkwardly holding his lower back with his right hand while his left one gripped the blanket tightly, his knuckles white with the pressure.
His right leg was jerking erratically.
Max considered leaving before he noticed her; she was positive he wouldn't want her to witness this. But then he cursed out loud and without quite realizing what she was doing, Max jumped to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What's going on? Logan?"
"Max? Why…?"
"I heard noises. What can I do?"
"It's okay. Go back to sleep."
"I won't leave before you tell me what's wrong!"
"It's just a spasm," he gasped. "No big deal."
Max swallowed, hating to see him in pain and hating even more that he apparently had these spasms on a regular basis- and she had never known! What had he done to deserve this? Wasn't it more than enough that he had to deal with the chair?
Max watched helplessly as Logan struggled with his body. Her hand continued to stroke his shoulder gently.
He reached over to his nightstand and pulled the upper drawer open. With a shaking hand he grabbed a little white bottle and tried to open it. A new wave of spasms attacked him and the bottle fell to the floor, the contents spreading over the hardwood floor.
Max quickly bent down. "I got it. You need one?"
"Three," he gasped.
Max handed him the pills and then continued collecting the others.
"It's okay, Max. I can do it in the morning."
"No big dealio." She put the bottle on the nightstand when she thought she had found all the small pills. Then she looked carefully at Logan. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah, thanks," he mumbled. His voice sounded tired.
"You're welcome. And now get some sleep."
"Night, Max," he slurred before his breath slowed significantly.
Max stood up and covered him with the blanket that he had almost thrown off the bed in his agitated state. He looked so peaceful, like everything was okay, like he was the guy he so desperately wanted to be. She softly ran her fingers through his hair. "Sweet dreams."
**
"Hi! Thought I'd stop by."
"It's noon. You're hungry," Logan stated matter-of-factly, grinning at her. He loved that he knew her so well he could see through her pathetic excuse.
"You make it sound so bad." Max pouted.
"Sorry." He wheeled to the kitchen, and Max could see that the short moment of happiness was obviously over. He seemed pretty distracted.
"What happened?" Max followed him.
"Brad called earlier this morning."
"Randy okay?"
"Yeah, he's still holding on."
"But?"
"But Brad found a liver."
"And you're still down because…?"
"Because something's wrong about this. He asked me for money, Max."
"You're loaded. If your friend needs your money to survive…" she shrugged, not seeing a problem in that.
"Of course, I'd be more than happy to give it to him. But you don't pay for organs, Max. Not when you get one legally."
"Oh." Max nodded, the reason dawning on her. "I guess you spent the morning digging."
"Yeah."
"And?" Sometimes she hated how she had to force every word out of him.
"I didn't come up with anything concrete yet. I guess I'll have to talk to Brad first."
"So you'll go back to the hospital?"
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Want me to come?"
"No, it's alright."
"Whatever you say – thanks." She gratefully accepted the ham sandwich Logan had prepared and took a big bite. Logan's rejection had stung, even though she knew he hadn't meant it like that. It was ridiculous to even have that thought. He was an adult; of course he could handle one lousy hospital visit alone. And still, there was something about the way he acted, the way he appeared to her that made him more vulnerable than an adult. Was it the chair itself? Or was it this look in his eyes? The way he sat in his chair, lost, confused and exhausted from months of emotional and physical battle? She couldn't figure out the answer, not yet anyway.
"Heaven," she mumbled after taking another bite. She then put the sandwich down. "There's something else, Logan. About last night…"
"I'm sorry," he cut her off.
"You don't have to be sorry. I'd just like to…"
"Max, can you please drop it?" His voice sounded harsh. "It's no big deal, just comes with the territory."
She was hurt. Why didn't he talk to her? Why couldn't he open up just a little bit? She wasn't asking for much. She just wanted to understand what was going on in his life. They were friends, after all, weren't they? But she didn't press, there was no point. They were both stubborn like that; if they didn't want to talk about something, no amount of pressing would force them to do so.
They ate in silence.
"Okay, gotta jet. I'll be back after work." Max threw her leather jacket over her shoulder and raised her hand to wave shortly.
"Have fun."
"And you – good luck."
"See ya." Logan looked after her. "Max!" he called when she had almost disappeared from his field of view. "Thanks- for last night."
"You're welcome." She gave him one of her sweet smiles before she headed out. It was at least a beginning!
**
TBC
I would be really happy about a little, tiny review if you find the time. Helps keeping my spirits up, you know…
A/N: Many thanks to Somebody's Angel for trying to make this text a little more "english" and better.
To all those people who reviewed and wrote encouraging and positive: THANK YOU SO MUCH!
This is for you guys! Have fun.
*
Chapter 4
*
"Hey," Max had entered his apartment expecting to find him typing away on his computers. But all lights in the office had been switched off, just like the lights in the rest of the apartment.
She found him sitting on the couch, staring thoughtfully into a glass of scotch; the bottle was standing on the low table. She had hardly seen him drink anything but wine or an occasional beer.
Two candles offered a flickering light that bathed his face in all kinds of different shades. He looked tired.
At the sound of her coming closer he raised his eyes, obviously surprised by her appearance. "Hey, thought you were at Crash."
"I was." She sat down in front of the couch in his wheelchair and looked at him. "You okay?"
"You asked that before." He couldn't take his eyes from where she had made herself comfortable- comfortable, right!
For a moment Max wondered if he didn't want her to sit there. But to hell with it! She kept telling him that the chair was not an issue for her. He would just have to deal with it.
"Did you find a way to help Randy?" she asked putting one foot on the seat and putting her arms around her leg, resting her chin on her knee.
He sighed, pushed up to put the glass back on the table and then leaned back again, his hands rubbing over his face, defeated. "There's not much I or Eyes Only can do, I'm afraid. There aren't many organs on the market and a lot of people need one desperately."
"Shit." Max looked at the bottle and the glass. The liquid was still moving in it. "Do you mind?"
"Help yourself."
She took a careful sip from Logan's glass and coughed involuntarily. "Hell, that burns!"
He couldn't help but smile. In moments like this she was just a twenty year old girl. He loved those rare moments when her shields crumpled and all that was left of the tough soldier was Max.
The liquid was burning in her throat, but a comfortable warmth spread through her body after a second. She certainly hoped it was due to the Scotch and not due to the appearance of the handsome guy seated across from her.
"So you don't think he'll make it?" she tried to distract herself from thinking about Logan.
"I don't know." Logan tiredly massaged his temples and then reached for his glass again and took a sip. He then held the glass in his hand, his index finger running in circles around the rim. "When you are a college student, your entire life lies ahead of you. We had so many plans, and now…"
Max knew he wasn't just talking about Randy anymore. "You once told me the universe is right on schedule."
"What's right about this?" he asked frustrated, knowing fully well that Max couldn't give him an answer and he appreciated that she didn't try. He was tired of those flowery phrases like 'it's all gonna be fine'. They didn't mean a thing to the person affected. It just wasn't that simple.
Logan sighed. "I think I'll head to bed. Do you wanna stay in the guest bedroom?" He looked at her almost pleadingly- at least that's how it looked to Max.
"Yeah, thanks." She stood up and busied herself with taking the bottle and glass to the kitchen while he transferred.
When she returned from the kitchen he was on his way to the bedroom. "Night, Max."
"Good night." She settled down on the sofa, in the same spot he had just vacated; it still felt warm under her. She put her arms on the backrest, staring out at the city below. A light drizzle somehow made it appear further away, almost surreal. She could hear Logan in the bathroom.
Was this the way her life was meant to be? Somewhere, out of reach of real life, with some one she…well, loved? But he was just as untouchable and unreachable. She never made any progress with Logan. She couldn't blame it on him, well, not entirely. She was just as confused and scared. But if they both felt that way, why couldn't they just admit it? 'Because we're both stubborn as hell.' She sighed, if the universe was right on schedule, maybe this was the way it was meant to be? Maybe things would make sense one day. Maybe, hopefully.
*
Suddenly she could hear a noise coming from Logan's bedroom. She listened carefully for a second. When the noise didn't cease she sneaked closer, silently opening the door to his bedroom enough so that she could see through the crack.
Logan was lying on his side, groaning, his face twisted in pain. He was awkwardly holding his lower back with his right hand while his left one gripped the blanket tightly, his knuckles white with the pressure.
His right leg was jerking erratically.
Max considered leaving before he noticed her; she was positive he wouldn't want her to witness this. But then he cursed out loud and without quite realizing what she was doing, Max jumped to his side, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What's going on? Logan?"
"Max? Why…?"
"I heard noises. What can I do?"
"It's okay. Go back to sleep."
"I won't leave before you tell me what's wrong!"
"It's just a spasm," he gasped. "No big deal."
Max swallowed, hating to see him in pain and hating even more that he apparently had these spasms on a regular basis- and she had never known! What had he done to deserve this? Wasn't it more than enough that he had to deal with the chair?
Max watched helplessly as Logan struggled with his body. Her hand continued to stroke his shoulder gently.
He reached over to his nightstand and pulled the upper drawer open. With a shaking hand he grabbed a little white bottle and tried to open it. A new wave of spasms attacked him and the bottle fell to the floor, the contents spreading over the hardwood floor.
Max quickly bent down. "I got it. You need one?"
"Three," he gasped.
Max handed him the pills and then continued collecting the others.
"It's okay, Max. I can do it in the morning."
"No big dealio." She put the bottle on the nightstand when she thought she had found all the small pills. Then she looked carefully at Logan. "Feeling better?"
"Yeah, thanks," he mumbled. His voice sounded tired.
"You're welcome. And now get some sleep."
"Night, Max," he slurred before his breath slowed significantly.
Max stood up and covered him with the blanket that he had almost thrown off the bed in his agitated state. He looked so peaceful, like everything was okay, like he was the guy he so desperately wanted to be. She softly ran her fingers through his hair. "Sweet dreams."
**
"Hi! Thought I'd stop by."
"It's noon. You're hungry," Logan stated matter-of-factly, grinning at her. He loved that he knew her so well he could see through her pathetic excuse.
"You make it sound so bad." Max pouted.
"Sorry." He wheeled to the kitchen, and Max could see that the short moment of happiness was obviously over. He seemed pretty distracted.
"What happened?" Max followed him.
"Brad called earlier this morning."
"Randy okay?"
"Yeah, he's still holding on."
"But?"
"But Brad found a liver."
"And you're still down because…?"
"Because something's wrong about this. He asked me for money, Max."
"You're loaded. If your friend needs your money to survive…" she shrugged, not seeing a problem in that.
"Of course, I'd be more than happy to give it to him. But you don't pay for organs, Max. Not when you get one legally."
"Oh." Max nodded, the reason dawning on her. "I guess you spent the morning digging."
"Yeah."
"And?" Sometimes she hated how she had to force every word out of him.
"I didn't come up with anything concrete yet. I guess I'll have to talk to Brad first."
"So you'll go back to the hospital?"
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Want me to come?"
"No, it's alright."
"Whatever you say – thanks." She gratefully accepted the ham sandwich Logan had prepared and took a big bite. Logan's rejection had stung, even though she knew he hadn't meant it like that. It was ridiculous to even have that thought. He was an adult; of course he could handle one lousy hospital visit alone. And still, there was something about the way he acted, the way he appeared to her that made him more vulnerable than an adult. Was it the chair itself? Or was it this look in his eyes? The way he sat in his chair, lost, confused and exhausted from months of emotional and physical battle? She couldn't figure out the answer, not yet anyway.
"Heaven," she mumbled after taking another bite. She then put the sandwich down. "There's something else, Logan. About last night…"
"I'm sorry," he cut her off.
"You don't have to be sorry. I'd just like to…"
"Max, can you please drop it?" His voice sounded harsh. "It's no big deal, just comes with the territory."
She was hurt. Why didn't he talk to her? Why couldn't he open up just a little bit? She wasn't asking for much. She just wanted to understand what was going on in his life. They were friends, after all, weren't they? But she didn't press, there was no point. They were both stubborn like that; if they didn't want to talk about something, no amount of pressing would force them to do so.
They ate in silence.
"Okay, gotta jet. I'll be back after work." Max threw her leather jacket over her shoulder and raised her hand to wave shortly.
"Have fun."
"And you – good luck."
"See ya." Logan looked after her. "Max!" he called when she had almost disappeared from his field of view. "Thanks- for last night."
"You're welcome." She gave him one of her sweet smiles before she headed out. It was at least a beginning!
**
TBC
I would be really happy about a little, tiny review if you find the time. Helps keeping my spirits up, you know…