Just before 3AM, Logan's Penthouse
After talking to Max, Logan had attempted to return his attentions to the waiting computers. After all, Eyes Only would always have plenty of work to keep him busy. At least as long as the world was still broken. The lights flicked out and the computer's backup generator buzzed to life. Third black out in as many days. Yup, world's still broken. Logan backed up the files he'd been working on and shut down the computers.
Logan then maneuvered his chair away from the now sleeping components of Eyes Only's pervasive informant net and broadcasting operations. So this is better. The mayor and a slew of city officials continued to claim that Seattle was on the road to recovery and would soon be back to normal. Such a proclamation had been made just that morning. Wonder if they ever look around during these blackouts. Logan chuckled at the irony as he slowly made his way into the kitchen.
A well used drawer produced matches, a flash light, and a back up battery for Logan's laptop. Logan pushed himself through the kitchen en route to get the laptop off of the living room coffee table. He moved effortlessly around and through the kitchen and into the living room. After all it was his own space and Logan had gotten used to moving around the apartment in the chair, even in the dark. So it wasn't a rogue piece of furniture or uneven molding that stopped Logan in his tracks. It was the weak voice that came from the couch that froze him solidly to the ground.
"Hey, you think you could still whip up that culinary miracle?" Max's voice faltered in the dark, "I mean with the power out and every thing."
Logan was concerned. As he watched Max, now settled in the kitchen and less vulnerable then when he had found her, his concern only grew. She's shaking. Are her seizures back? Logan knew better then to press Max for details on herself. It was a futile endeavor that generally just resulted in snarky comments and flashes of fire from those sultry eyes. Max sat slouched on the stool, half leaning on the counter for support. Logan had lit a couple of candles mostly for the benefit of his own sight, but even in meager candle light Max looked pale. He had poured Max a glass of milk almost out of instinct and she'd been clutching it like a cherished bauble since Logan had handed it to her on the couch.
Now as he made his way about the kitchen collecting items to make a cold supper, Logan filled the uneven air with small talk about food, cooking, and Seattle's persistent lack of power at inopportune moments. He was waiting for Max to open up to him, babbling away so they would both feel comfortable. After all it was normal for Max to drop in on him at odd hours, unexpected, and just let herself in. Logan was just filling time, so she would ease up and open up to him. All he wanted was for Max to let him in, let him know what was going on.
"Logan, I think" Max started tentatively cutting him off mid sentence right between chicken and lettuce. "I think maybe I should see Sam Carr. Something bout these seizures tonight just don't seem right."
Logan looked at her somewhat in disbelief. Doesn't she remember? "Max, I took you to see Sam about a week ago. After you crashed especially hard on my couch. You had me spooked pretty bad, I mean it's not every day a transgenic super solider takes a header into my coffee table."
Max looked extremely perplexed. What's wrong with me? "Logan, I think I would remember wiping out on your living room furniture. I just started shaking when I got off the phone with you earlier. Got bad pretty damn quickly too. Full blown in the time it took me to get up the stairs to my bathroom."
Logan looked her dead in the eyes. "Max, what's the last thing you remember before I paged you tonight?"
"Getting back from Crash after kicking it with you and OC. We played three games of pool. You kicked ass in the first game, I won the next two." Max said with certainty fighting to keep the hesitation from sneaking into her voice.
"Max that was almost two weeks ago."