Tempest of Emotions

Chapter 17: Breaking Points

By Azure Orbis

A/N– I'm back and so is this story. I said I would try to complete it and I will, hopefully by the end of the month since school starts then and all bets are off. I don't know if any of my old reviews still remember, much less still read this, but on the off chance they do- thanks for waiting! Now onto the story, the beginning is a peek into Original's mindset and although I love her slang, typing it is hell on Word. So, her thoughts and even dialogue are in normal English. And if there's any inconsistences, please tell me- I haven't read the fic in a long time, so my facts may be a little off.

Humans have a breaking point. No matter how strong that person is or how jaded that person is, that person will at some point reach a point where he or she is unable to accept anything else and will retreat into their comfort zone until later. Transgenics are no different. They are humans underneath all the extra strands of DNA and as humans go, we all have emotions that can seem to overwhelm us. But it's something else to know this fact of life and to watch my best friend retreat into her shell and although I'm overjoyed to see her, I'm starting to think that the worst is still ahead of her. I know she doesn't want me to worry about her, but sometimes I think it would be better to just take a nice, blunt object and threaten to knock her out if she doesn't take a moment out of her day to just talk about him. Yes, it's the person that we all love to hate, or at least like to know his latest antics, Alec. He's dead. I almost stopped breathing to hear that news. It's just that I haven't really experienced the death of someone close to me in a long time. The time when my little sister died from the food shortage years ago, was probably the first time I realized that death could come so quickly and remove something that I always thought would be a staple in my life. Perhaps it sounds twisted, but it's a good thing that I didn't know her that long because it would only make me miss her more. Somehow, in my strange world of illogical logic, it seems like those who die are the lucky ones because those who are dead don't have to feel the pain of being left behind. So, judging from my emotional state and twisted sense of logic, I obviously have not gotten over Melly's death. And she was only seven. See what I mean about being glad that I didn't have more time with her and gotten to love her more? Think what would happen if she were alive now and suddenly died! I would be stuck in depression forever, mourning her. And now Alec...no wonder they used to make a pill for this kind of stuff; speaking-of-which, I could use one now.

While annoying music blared on the newly-dubbed "sad radio", Original Cindy glanced at the silent figure near her. It had been two days since Max resurfaced in Seattle and they should rightly be out on the town now, celebrating as a drunken throng with all sorts of unknown people clinging to their group if it weren't for the shocking news. It couldn't be real and yet it was. How was it possible that someone like Alec was gone? The thought had not yet sunken into her head, and yet Cindy already missed that cocky, arrogant and dare she say it, loveable person. It was agreed that Max would not tell anyone else the sad news. It would be better for all who knew him to think that he was on a prolonged trip that was held up with bureaucratic red tape or some hassle like that.

Finally having enough of the song that kept on repeating how the singer just could not live without someone else, Cindy threw a well-aimed pillow toward the offending radio and was rewarded with a thud and then silence. It would be very peaceful and very calming if the person near her did not resemble a restless spirit more than a living breathing being. It would be more comforting if she would at least talk or vent about him because it would show that she was moving on, on some basic level. Cindy might not have a degree on human emotions, but she knew that bottling up emotions or denial could lead to only non-beneficial things. Maybe nothing as serious as a self-implosion, but nothing good.

"Do you want to tell me anything, honey?" Cindy implored quietly. Max shook her head no. She got up to leave when she felt a hand refrain her, "It'll come out alright, even if it don't feel like that now." Max walked away into her darken room and drew the curtains to shut out the rest of the apartment and her friend. She would tell her someday, but at the moment, she could not bring herself to repeat the past three weeks to anyone.

The bright lunar light drew her to the window. She stood and gazed at the full moon in amazement. It was not only stunning in its brilliant orange color, but the fact that this was one of those times where she could understand the myth about the man on the moon. It really looked like a smiling face of some ethereal being. Actually, as she looked closer, that face resembled more of a smirk, borderlining a sneer. Amazing, it seemed like everywhere she looked, there was his face or something to remind her. There was no escaping him. She started to rock back and forth in a soothing rhythm. Back and forth, always back and forth, forever back and forth.

"So, you going to show at work today?" Cindy asked, busy preparing her breakfast while Max poked absentmindedly at her cold and now soggy cereal.

"Nah, I don't think I can handle Normal. Not yet, not so soon." Her attention was still solely on her food.

"Okay, you might want to go see Logan today. He called again, you know? And he sounded really worried about you."

"Yeah, I could go visit him." Max replied halfheartedly.

Cindy picked up her bag and hugged Max goodbye, "Good, I'll see you when I get back and I'll try to rustle up something good for dinner."

Max stared at her food after Cindy left and pushed the plastic bowl away, deciding to not aggravate her stomach. Looking around the silent apartment, she wondered what to do with all the empty hours before her. She could visit Logan, as Cindy suggested, but judging from the last time she spoke to him, she didn't feel like talking to him or anyone for a while. What she needed was someone who could tell her a good story and maybe get her worked up at the same time- anything to get her animated and excited again. And of course, there used to be a perfect person for that, with his annoying habits of dropping in on her unannounced and butting into her business without her leave and finally, standing besides her while everything seemed to turn upside-down, just when she thought it had settled at last. But, alas her life never settled for long and she should know that by now, but like the simple-minded trusting person that she was, she thought that everything would stay under the radar and all the havoc that could break loose would just simmer for an eternity until she solved her life problems, which only seemed to grow with time.

A small breeze entered the apartment and tousled her dark locks. A memory of the one time she allowed him to run his fingers through her hair resurfaced quickly. She did not know what possessed him to do it and what strange impulse also possessed her to allow him to. Still, it was a strange and sweet moment, outside of their usual bicker and banter routine. It was a moment of familiarity that made her feel as she could only describe as "at home." Of safety, of familiarity and of comfort. The words seemed to breath of the memory and yet, how odd was that? She didn't even have a home, so how could she feel at home and even comfortable with him of all people? Perhaps it was the image that was fused into her mind, the one where the mother lovingly combs her child's hair while the child mimics the mother and combs the hair of her beloved dolly. Yes, that probably explained it and yet it didn't. She was not that child and he was not her mother, so where did logic of that explanation go? Whatever that moment of peace meant, could have meant, should have meant, it was gone now. Gone like yesterday's milk. She snorted, even her sense of humor was affected.

Grabbing an especially plump pillow, she curled up on the couch in her favorite spot, the part that was slightly more soft than any other part. This was Max's corner of comfort. Maybe instead of seeing Logan and getting more bad feelings by being there, she could just stay here. There was no harm in just staying here and wallowing in misery. No, she argued as her eyes misted over, she would just think about her friend and cherish the memories and the moments that she did not think to cherish at the time. He was at a better place now and even though it hurt, perhaps she could wait to see him again. That's the way to think, she told herself before fading into the memory of when they first met. It all started in a dank cell after lights out and Max thought she had it all to herself for the night. Boy was she wrong...especially when someone waltzed in with a face she never thought she would see again...

"So when, will it end.
So when, when will we meet again.
So when, will it end.
So when, when will we meet my friend."

Original Cindy entered her home quietly and was relieved to find Max sleeping restfully on the couch. It was far better than the first night when Max returned and would not tell her anything except that the mission went south. She went to sleep as if nothing else happened and Cindy did not push her. She awoke later that night to hear Max screaming at the top of her lungs. She rushed over to find Max screaming and at the verge of crying, her blankets a complete disarray around her like a hurricane blew in while she slept. It was only then did Max tell her the news that Alec was not delayed as Cindy assumed he was. Cindy was stunned, too stunned to think of an appropriate remark, while Max managed to stop from crying. Together they sat in silence, remembering their friend.

Although Cindy was sad, she could not let herself show too much emotions, it seemed better this way. And now with Max coming back to a semblance of normal, she did not want to jeopardize it by openly mourning for him. No, she would mourn for him quietly. Still, even as her resolve to keep silent about his demise was made, she felt an immense sadness engulf her heart. There were times when Alec was so clearly human that she wanted to embrace him as a closer friend than he was. But those moments were so short and Max was always angry with him that she thought it was better not to intervene until the right time. Now, she would never get the chance to referee another one of their pointless arguments.

Sighing, she pushed the thought of Alec away to the back corner, her attention lay with her friend who was still living and still breathing. She shook Max awake gently, "It's time to eat. I brought you some chicken I managed to snag."

Max yawned and padded her way to the food. Together they ate in silence, each one not speaking, their thoughts far away.

A/N– I don't think this chapter is nearly dark enough for Max's headspace, but I wanted to update, especially since I've been so bad at that. And the next chapter will take care of that. One year! My apologies! I did swear I would try to finish this story, so here comes that crazy fanfiction writing fit. Updates and more updates! And the song is either a quote or paraphrasing of Yoko Kanno's Strangers from Wolf's Rain OST 1. It seemed appropriate, so it's there. Great OST, I recommend it. Next chapter is in the works and coming soon. Til then.