Disclaimer: I do now own Dark Angel or any of its contents.

A/N: Just wanted to give a shoutout to the greatest people in the worlds, who I hope do not hate me, even as I left them in suspense for so many weeks.

Shellybelly23

FemmePhantom

src13

NShadows

Mahine

p3karen

djonie

Levi Jennings II

X5-452 and 494

purplebunnywabbit

CHAPTER 10:

Alec's P.O.V:

"Aaah."

I sighed in contentment as the cool rivulets of water cascaded down my back. Pure bliss. Or at least, it would be if this nagging feeling in my gut would leave me. I can't explain it. My hands have gone clammy, my stomach seems to have dropped 4 feet to the floor, and I've seem to have lost my ability to think of anything else. But, surely, this is just the byproduct of my overactive imaginations. After all, Max's only been gone for about an hour...

My stomach dropped. Even just thinking about what I did to her made me feel like running ofF a cliff. The hand that I'd used to scrub myself hovered.

'What am I talking about? I hadn't done anything to her. I was practically glued to Genoa. So what? I'm close to every girl. It hadn't bothered her before. It's not my fault...Then why do I feel like I'm missing something? But what else is there to think about? She came, she saw, she left...'

I pondered. 'Think Casanova, think!'

And just like that, the proverbial light bulb flashed, bright and impossible to miss.

'Unless, Max has a thing for me and is jealous. That's not a very unlikely possibility. I mean, if she could fall in love with Logboy then chances are pretty good that she, at the very least, has a thing for—'

And just like that, the light bulb suddenly lost its will to shine.

I cut myself off before I could explore that thought any further. What's the use? Surely, there'd be nothing to face except disappointment.

I resumed lathering my chest, hands working vigorously.

'Don't think. Just breathe.'

But the feeling in my gut intensified. I couldn't take it any more. Something just wasn't right. Hurriedly, I turned the shower knob, ceasing the flow of water, and began to get out of the tub, scrambling in haste dry myself off. Ten minutes later I was ready to go, dressed up in a comfy pair of jeans and a light blue polo shirt, topped off with my favorite leather jacket.

Just then, I heard footsteps, quick and heavy, approaching.

'Clip. Clop. Clip. Clop.'

I jumped soundlessly to the left, deftly grabbing a baseball bat I had strategically placed near the door, and crouched in a defensive position.

Whoosh.

The door opened to reveal a panicked Zane. His eyes were wide, breaths coming in short, little bursts.

"What's wrong?"

He glanced fearfully at me, taking in the raised bat.

"Oh." Carefully, I put down the bat.

"It's Max," he began, still breathing erratically, "Now, before I tell you, I want you to promise me that you won't freak out, okay?" He looked at me seriously. "Okay? Because I do not need you to freak out right—"

I couldn't take it anymore; I needed to know if Max was all right. Without the least bit regretful, I grabbed Zane by the scruff of his shirt and slammed him to the wall, which shook in protest. All thought about his sheer size and the fact that he was Max's brother disappeared with a poof.

I looked at him hard, my eyes fixed on his. "What. About. Max."

Every word was precise and stressed. Zane gulped, and, to my immense relief, started to talk.

"Dix told me that the cure was a dud and Max is nowhere to be found--"

I narrowed my eyes. "What do you mean the 'cure was a dud'?"

He swallowed, eyes darting around the room until they met mine, reluctant courage displayed in their depths. Let go of me, they said.

I let go of him, determination still on high. "Something about a cure?"

"Logan can give you more information. All I know is that the scientist who made the cure was already dead before Logan got hold of it. That means—"

"Someone else mailed it," I finished for him.

"Exactly."

We were quiet for a moment. The implications of this newfound knowledge were substantial. It signified that, through the scientist, someone had access to data concerning Max's DNA, data that we've been so zealously guarding. It also meant that this someone had gone through great lengths to acquire and keep said information.

As if this wasn't bad enough, the gap between the cure's completion, assuming that the cure was finished before the scientist's death, and the time Logan actually received the cure made it possible—scratch that, practically guaranteed that someone had been tampering with it. Now, I could understand why Zane might think that the cure was a dud.

I sat down heavily on a nearby chair. After taking a minute to compose myself, I looked purposefully at Zane. "I should go find her."

"Don't bother, Joshua and his canine friends are already on it." At this point, I was already up. I didn't pause on my way towards the—err, doorway. "Well, then I'm helping." I knew Zane was about to argue, so I didn't give him the chance. "We need to talk to Logan. Make sure he's here by the time I get back."

Zane nodded. "I thought you might say that, so I called ahead of time." He glanced at the clock mounted above the counter, on the ceiling wall. "He should be here in a couple of minutes. I'm gonna stay here and find out what I can about all this."

I was already out in hall and turning a corner leading to the stairwell by the time he finished his last sentence.

Outside, the rain was pouring, cold, torrents of water pummeling my body. I was perilously close to breaking down; after all, Max was in danger! But that would just delay and quite possibly decrease my chances of getting to her. Thankfully, Manticore training took over, leaving no room for emotion.

From H.Q, I walked east, where I last saw her headed. I felt a sting as I realized that she could be missing because of me. But I shrugged it off; right now, I had to concentrate on finding Max. Dilating my eyes, I scouted the area for any sign of her.

I passed blocks of littered streets, battered buildings, and hunched up transgenics. I was debating which one I should ask when, Manny, an X-4, came up to me.

"Hey, Alec," he greeted me gruffly, while shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to another, water dripping down his clothes. Manny was bulky, all brawns and no brain. He had a permanently shaved head, and his clothes were loose and tattered. An angry, pink scar ran from the center of his forehead, down the ridge of his nose, and angling down on his left nostril to stop right above his upper lip. It was a mating scar, the type gotten from a mating battle; it was the ones that never healed. I gestured for us to move under a balcony.

"Hey, Manny." I looked him over, noting his anxiousness, while I tried to hide mine. "You seen Max around lately?"

He harrumphed. "You're the second person to ask me that. What's wrong? Has the O'Niner run away again?" He said leeringly, but I only stared at him hard in return, refusing to back down. The earth stopped moving; our breaths suddenly increased in noise level. I was Alpha, not him. After a while, he looked down, displaying the universal sign of surrender. He cleared his throat, "Yeah, I saw her headin' over that way." He hooked a thumb towards a small, secluded alleyway to the far right of me.

"Thanks," I told him coolly, starting to turn away.

"Wait!"

I spun around to him expectantly, squashing an urge to start tapping my foot.

He seemed reluctant and I nodded impatiently for him to continue.

"Max...She's been a little out of sorts." He quickly stole a glance at me, checking to see my reaction. "Not in a bad way, of course. I guess what I'm trying to ask if there's anything we—" He gestured to the crowd of transgenic that had formed around him, "could do to help?" This was certainly an unexected turn of events. I was touched but still...

I hesitated. I couldn't tell them the entire truth. First, there was the inevitable fact that we weren't exactly positive just exactly what was going on and, secondly, it would cause a decrease in morale. Besides, Commanding officers were taught to be stoic and detached at all times. An inability to control emotions was not only frowned upon, it was unforgivable and a cause for punishment.

Additionally, I didn't trust myself enough to be able to tell the entire story without breaking down. However, they were a suspicious lot. Suspicious transgenics are nosy transgenics. Nosy transgenic equal trouble.

"She hasn't been getting much sleep, overworking herself." It wasn't much but it was close enough to the truth. At least, if close meant 'wholly unrelated whatsoever,' then I was right on the dot. They nodded, accepting the answer and I let out a relieved breath.

Satisfied, I jogged towards the alleyway, pursuing my search on Max. There was no sign of her. The alleyway was surprisingly long, and I couldn't help but doubt my efforts. What if it's too late? What if Max is already—

'This is why I'm hot. This is why I'm hot. This is why, this is—'

The sound of my ring tone startled me out of my gloomy thoughts. I shook my head, trying unsuccessfully to clear the cold dread that had settled over the pit of my stomach and slow the frantic beating of my aching heart. Taking a deep breath, I pressed the answer button, forgetting to check the caller I.D.

"Hello?" I hoped my voice sounded collected enough.

"Hey, it's Logan."

"Oh. Has anyone found Max yet?"

Silence.

"We were hoping you have."

The rundown alley soon gave way to a large, empty street. By now, the rain had stopped. I sniffed the air. Vanilla and a hint of something else filled my nostrils. Hope filled my soul. It was Max.

"Logan, I got to go but tell Ephialtes to get the Med Bay ready."

"Wait a minute. You found—"

"Logan. Just. Do. It." With that, I flipped off my phone and ran, literally, to where my nose led me. For what seemed like eternity, I paced down the deserted road. The scent was definitely getting stronger as I went. I turned a corner...

And there she was.

Blurring, I arrived at her side. She looked like hell. Her naturally bronzed skin had turned an alarming shade of gray. Her facial features were contorted in pain, brows furrowed, forehead crinkled, lush lips tightly drawn, and beautiful, brown eyes sealed shut. She looked fragile and small against rough, hard asphalt, a puddle of water and gunk sullying her hair and clothes. With trembling fingers, I checked her neck for a pulse, releasing a sigh as I felt a faint, yet unmistakable, beating. I took out my phone, quickly telling Dix to alert the meds about Max's condition, just in case Logan hadn't came through.

Then, without second thought, I gently lifted Max in my arms, gunk and all, and blurred all the way towards H.Q. Many twists and turns later, I arrived in front of Ephialtes in the Med Bay, bypassing Logan on the way there. Zane arrived a little later, looking like hell himself. His face lost its color as he saw Max, limp and lifeless in my arms.

"Is she all right? Max can you hear—"

"Excuse me, but who are you?" It was Ephialte, an a damp cloth in hand.

Zane stared at him, as if just aware of his presence. "Oh, sorry. I thought everyone knew me already." He smiled humorlessly, "Max pretty much made sure of that. I'm Zane, Max's brother."

While Zane was talking, Ephialtes had been instructing me to situate Max down gently on the hospital bed. It was pretty steady, not even giving way to a creak as I set her down. Ephialtes handed me the thermometer and started to clean her face. But the moment Zane said 'brother,' he froze.

"You are biologically related to her?" He asked casually, while his eyes remained curious. Too curious, if you ask me. If Zane noticed, he didn't let on, continuing to talk.

"No. But I was in her unit." At Ephialtes's confused look, he persisted. "I was one of the eleven who escaped. I'm an O'Niner." At this point, Ephialtes looked to be made out of concrete. He never blinked, or even breathed for a full minute, except for a veing throbbing violently in his temple. Zane glanced at me, concerned.

I could read his eyes. 'Does he hate O'Niners, too?'

However, before I could inquire if he was all right, Ephialtes recovered, acting as if nothing strange had happened. He resumed wiping Max's forehead with the moist cloth, soon moving to hook a needle on her wrist.

The needle was attached to a large, elaborate device. Immediately, it started to display her heart rate, blood pressure, everything. Zane and I, though, were left in the dust, confused. Then, Ephialtes jerked his head upwards, eyes probing. "Alec, I need her temperature. This is an emergency."

Hastily, I stuck the thermometer in her mouth. "When'd we get that thing?" was the only thing I could think of saying.

Ephialte looked at me unwaveringly. "I got it from a friend. It's high-end technology. Not even the most advanced hospitals have it yet. It does everything, from regulating your heartbeat, supplying you with oxygen, analyzing your blood, to monitoring your brain wave patterns."

I let out a rueful smile. "Except take temperature."

Zane, however, let out an impressive whistle. "Some friend."

'Yeah,' I couldn't help thinking, 'Some friend.'

"So, is she going to be all right?" I asked Ephialtes.

He didn't answer me for a long time, just proceeded to stare at the large, silver contraption, as if it held all the answers...which it probably did.

Finally, just when I though I'd burst with frustration, he spoke, "She's unconcious, stuck in a possbily prolonged comatose state." My breath hiched. " But yeah, she'll be fine. Well, she's going to live, anyway. I just need to examine her, find out what's wrong..." His voice tuned out. All I could concentrate on was Max's beautiful, white face. She was going to survive.

Reaching down, I tenderly stroked Max's pale face. Quietly, I whispered into her ear, "What have you gotten yourself into?"

A/N: I'M SORRY! I tried to make this chaper extra good. I'm going to try (try being the key word here) to get in as many updates as possible b4 nxt week cuz a.) I'm gong to v-ball camp for a whole week and b.) I'm going to California th week after that. So, once again I'm Very Sorry. This has been my longest absence ever. Sorry.