A/N: The chapter title isn't my invention. It's a Matchbook Romance lyric. I was listening to them while I was editing the chapter. Their new song "Monsters" rocks, by the way. Okay, anyway, onto the story! It gets emotionally darker here for Max.

Chapter Five - Take This Broken Heart & Make It Right

Max didn't bother to explain to Kendra how she knew how to pick a lock. She just did then pushed the door to the apartment open. She stopped in the doorway and strained to hear the familiar click clack of a keyboard, but nothing came. It was all silent. Nothing made a noise. The refrigerator didn't even whir. It was as if everything knew what had happened and was mourning.

She walked into the apartment and Kendra followed. She stopped in the kitchen and wanted to collapse to the floor - not because she was dizzy or tired but because she just wanted to cry. She wanted to drown the penthouse in tears and pound on the smooth floor until it cracked under her fists.

The soldiers began tearing through her body once again, leaving no bit of her un-trampled and un-desecrated. She felt like a phantom had crept up on her and pulled every organ, every drop of blood from her body and exhibited them for the world to see.

She took a deep, shaky breath and clenched her fists. She would kill Thomas Maconick.

She left the kitchen and went to the computer room. She just had to be sure. When she saw that he was not there, she leaned against the doorframe. Sam had called her lucky. She grimaced.

"You okay?" Kendra asked. She put a hand on Max's shoulder. "Should I call the doctor?"

Max shook her head but said nothing.

She walked to every room in the penthouse and examined each one closely. She ended at the living room and went to look out the window. She knew Kendra had no idea what was going on, but she couldn't explain. How did one explain that every part of them was bleeding and screaming in pain and hoping for death?

She crossed her arms and stared out the window until she grew too weak to stand. She sat on the couch and looked up at Kendra.

"You can go home," she said quietly. She still hadn't had her water. "I'm okay."

Kendra looked apprehensive. "Well… okay. Is there anything I can get you?"

Max turned on the couch so that she could again look out the window. She was quiet for a few minutes as she watched the normal people walk calmly below her. She replied simply, "Water."

Hours after Kendra left, Max awoke. She was still lying on the couch, but didn't remember falling asleep. She sat up and stretched and was relieved at how good she finally felt. She grabbed the empty glass in front of her then got off the couch and went to the kitchen.

Everything was still too quiet. She listened carefully again, hoping that she would hear exactly what she wanted to. No sound came.

She turned on the faucet and let it run. After a few moments she filled the glass and chugged the water down. She set the glass in the sink but let the water run. She needed the noise. The quiet seemed to only exist to drive her more insane.

Finally she turned off the water and reached up to touch the small gash on her head. It was already starting to heal. She sighed. She half-wished she had died.

She left the kitchen and went to the computer room. Gingerly, she sat in the computer chair then closed her eyes. The computer hummed gently and if her brain didn't resemble a live wire quite so much, she would have found it relaxing. She told herself it was all a dream. She would open her eyes and Logan would come through the front door, apologizing for being late but offering a delicious meal as an apology. She would open her eyes and Logan would be before her, challenging her to a game of chess which he knew he could never win. She would open her eyes and Logan would be there, offering to walk with her in the park. She would open her eyes and Logan would be there. She would open her eyes and her life wouldn't be completely destroyed.

She opened her eyes and the world was still broken.

She looked to the phone and thought of calling Original Cindy. She decided against it, knowing that OC would want to get all rational with her. She didn't want to be rational. She wanted to be a mess - a mess that would turn into Thomas Maconick's personal representation of Hell.

Max stood up very calmly and looked around the room. She reached for the phone and tore it from the wall with so much force the wires in the wall were torn out as well. She threw the phone at the computer screen. The screen busted on impact and gave a few spurts of sparks. She grabbed the computer screen and launched it across the room. It collided with the wall and broke in half. She slammed her fists down on the desk so hard one of the back legs buckled and everything on the surface tumbled to the floor.

She fell to her knees and screamed. She sat among the broken trinkets and slammed her fist on the floor. She hit the back of a picture frame and screamed again. She picked the frame up and turned it around to look at the picture.

It was a picture of Logan. The photo was obviously a few years old. Surrounded by friends, he was dressed to the nines and smiling widely.

With all her force, she threw the picture across the room. It smashed against the wall and fell to the floor with a thud.

"You left me!" she screamed through tears. "You were never supposed to leave me!"

She lay on the floor, curled into the fetal position, and sobbed. The only comprehensible thought that ran through her mind was the fact that, normally, Logan would be there, holding her and telling her it was all going to be okay. But it wasn't normal anymore. The sane part of her seemed to break away from the rest of her. It became a jagged jigsaw piece floating away and she couldn't reach it. The rest of the puzzle pieces were painted black with grief and red with rage to create a final picture of madness.

When she could cry no longer, she relaxed her muscles and rolled onto her back. She stared at the ceiling, hoping some answer would come from the God she had heard so much about. No mystical guidance came to her aid, so she made up her mind.

She pulled herself up from the floor and clenched her jaw.

She would begin.