She climbed the stairs with numb legs. The elevator was still functional, but something within her wanted to delay the inevitable. When she reached the top, she froze. She gripped the railing so tightly that she was afraid she would pull it off the wall. She couldn't move. She couldn't breath. She thought of turning and running. She didn't know where she would run. Maybe to the clapboard in Canada. Maybe to Pennsylvania. Maybe to Logan's apartment. She told herself she was being stupid and walked away from the stairs. She walked down the hall and when she reached the door, she knocked. She knocked because she felt like she didn't live there anymore.
She heard someone stumble then a soft curse. The door opened slowly and a bleary-eyed Kendra peered out.
"What?" the woman croaked.
Max swallowed the lump in her throat. "Hey."
"Oh, my God," Kendra breathed and opened the door. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but instead stepped into the hall and pulled Max into a bone-crushing hug.
Max returned the hug and felt a piece of her heart return to her chest. She said quietly, "I missed you."
"You missed me?" Kendra said and released Max. Tears were falling down her face. "I missed you! I… how's your mother?"
"My… mother?"
"Yeah," Kendra said and nodded. "Logan told us that you had to go see her 'cause she was sick. Is she better?"
Max nodded and felt tears forming. She blinked them away. "Yeah, she's fine now."
"I'm glad," Kendra said with a smile. She wiped her tears away and gestured for Max to come inside. "Do you want some coffee? I can make coffee."
"No thanks," Max said. She stepped into the apartment and looked around. Everything was just as she remembered it. She saw her bike in the corner and went over to it. She pushed Kendra's underwear off it and ran a hand over the seat.
"I thought about putting it in storage," Kendra told her, "but I knew that when you came back you'd climbing the walls waiting to ride it."
"You have no idea," Max said quietly as she touched the speedometer.
"Are you going to see Logan?"
Max turned to face Kendra. "I… I don't think so. Not right now, anyway. I'll let him sleep. Speaking of, why don't you get some rest?"
"I wanna catch up," the other woman replied.
"There's plenty of time to catch up," Max said. "I'm back for good."
Kendra looked apprehensive but nodded. "Yeah, all right. See ya in the morning, Max."
"See ya," Max replied quietly.
After Kendra disappeared to her room, Max went to the bathroom and shut the door behind her quietly. She was tempted to take a bath, but wasn't in the mood to transfer pots of water to the tub. Instead, she settled on a hot shower. She tossed her clothes into a corner and stepped into the shower, loving the feel of warm water. In Canada it had been all cold showers and snow. She hated the snow. She allowed the water to wash over her and wash the negativity from her body. She imagined the water was everything that was wrong with her life as it swirled down the drain.
When the pipes began to clang and the water turned cold, she frowned and turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, then one around her hair. She walked to her room and examined it closely. Everything was still in its place, just as she had left it - mostly. It was obvious Kendra had moved some things around while cleaning, but other than that, everything was intact.
She managed to find her bathrobe and slipped it on. She frowned and lay in bed. She rolled onto her side so she could stare out the window. She could make out the blurry orange light from the streetlights that still managed to work and there was no frost on the window - two very great improvements over Canada. When she listened, she could hear the city's sounds - they were a comfort. Another comfort was the sound of Kendra's light, delicate breathing. It was a far cry from Zack's labored and tortured sleep. He never admitted to the nightmares that she knew he had, but she knew they were his only dreams. She had them herself whenever she slept. She only ever dreamed about Manticore - whether it was memories of her own personal hell or nightmares where she was torn from her life and thrown into a cage, Manticore was there. Manticore was always there.
Suddenly the streetlights weren't offering her the peace they had moments ago. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.
She began to wonder what Zack would do once her message reached him. He had received it by that point, no doubt about that. Would he continue on to France? Of course not. Without her, the threat was still active. He still had to diffuse the bomb. Would he gather up the sibs and turn their lives upside down because of her? Would they have to find new identities, new jobs, and new friends because she hadn't been a good little soldier? Would Zack come for her and demand her to leave? Would he accept that she wasn't going to go?
Or would he finally give up and call her what she was to him - a lost cause?
She decided that, in the end, it would never matter what Zack did or would do. It would be all on her. It had always been all on her. To blame any problem in her life on someone else was stupid and weak. If she wasn't going to take the consequences for her actions, no one else would. Her life was on her shoulders.
She traced the cracks in the ceiling and wondered at which point it became the best metaphor for her life.
She hated that night.
But she hated the snow more.