Alec sped away from The Lux, trying to get them the hell out of there before Denver PD showed up and caught him with a gun in his hand. They had already reached the bottom floor when another helicopter landed and more gunfire sounded.
They guessed the remaining Rose brothers wanted to keep The Lux operational, and had shown up to take back their hotel.
It was well after two in the morning. Max and Alec had been sitting in the SUV wordlessly driving to the rendezvous point for two hours before one of them finally spoke.
"What city is it again?"
"Santa Cruz," Alec answered.
Either they had reached the awkward silence following an extremely personal and important vulnerable event, or they had reached a comfortable silence which came with shared trauma. If either transgenic knew, neither was telling.
They looked like hell. In the car, and with the heater on, they had eventually warmed up, but Alec's hair had dried funny and they both had smudges of rooftop grime and dust all over.
Max eyed Alec semi-discreetly. He looked tired, was probably hungry. Somewhere between the rooftop and the SUV, he'd lost his bowtie entirely. His white dress shirt was dirty, and his shirt and hands were bloody from Trip.
Max unbuckled her seat belt and turned to dig through their belongings.
"What are you looking for?" he asked, trying not to watch her backside as it weaved, attempting to keep her balance.
"A towel or a wetnap or something," she started. "Gotta get this smudge off me."
"I have a bottle of water in my duffel," he offered.
Max unzipped his bag and felt around for the bottle. Her fingertips touched a smooth plastic, and she pulled the bottle out. She smiled upon seeing it was the Jasmine Bath Bubbles. She held it back toward Alec. "Is this for me?"
Alec felt guilty for smiling. "I was gonna wait until we were back in Seattle."
Max put the bottle back in his duffel and felt around for another. This time, the slosh of liquid convinced her and she pulled out the bottle. She also unzipped the side of her suitcase and pulled a stolen hotel towel from it.
Sitting back in her seat, she opened the bottle and wetted the towel. "Give me your hand," she said simply.
Alec looked to her for a moment, then back to the road. She had that one look about her – the one where she had set her mind to something, and even if you didn't understand, you damn well better do what she asked. He let his left hand hold the wheel and watched determination affirm itself to her face as he offered his right hand.
Silently, Max rubbed the terra cotta over his hand, letting her own rest beneath his, palm up. Her hands were warm, and the watered towel seemed to slough off the blood from the rooftop. She even washed at his forearm and wrist, smearing the blood until he couldn't tell if it had absorbed into the towel, or if it was just gone somewhere in his skin.
"Other hand," she said, still not looking at him. She released his right hand and doused the towel again.
Alec gripped the wheel with his right hand, noting the color difference between the two hands. One had the dried-on blood from clutching at Trip. Dirt grooved itself into the skin at his knuckles, his joints, some of his pores. His fingernails had grime and soot lining them. The other hand, he realized, had not been washed as thoroughly as he thought. She had spent time on it, rubbing most of the debris and powdery substances away with the towel, but the deeply embedded matter held traces at his deepest cracks, as if it was an outline or a hint at the events of the now-previous day. He turned his body slightly toward her and reached his left palm out to her.
Taking his hand, Max felt the air in the car change, or maybe it was just a feeling. To her, his open palm felt like an offering which promised total trust. To her, this was possibly the closest they'd ever been.
The fact didn't escape her that he still wore the wedding ring. It had caked-on dirt, a spot or two of blood, and a couple of scrapes, but he was still wearing it.
And the fact she still wore hers didn't escape him, either. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the glint of the metal peeking out from between his fingers as she slid the cloth between them and rubbed at the life line on his palm. He held his breath, waiting to see what she'd do about the rings, but she just rubbed the soft cloth in circles over his skin until it was clean enough, ignoring the dirty ring altogether.
Max caught herself in a flash image of moonlight shining on her ring as Alec's hand swept up her arm and laced its fingers in hers. The simple image tugged at some fantasy deep at her core, because she smiled to no one in particular, and her face took on a light blush. She suddenly could think of nothing else except how their hands intertwined, their skin caressing one another's. Somehow, the image promised his hand would always be there. She closed her eyes to bask in the concept of the image, hoping he couldn't read her mind, or at least that he wasn't looking.
But Alec noticed. "What are you thinking about?" he asked in a low tone usually reserved for up close and personal bar-talk. He wanted her to tell him he'd given her that smile, that it was something he had said or done to relax her and put that impossibly sexy, blushing smile on her lips, but he was terrified she'd suddenly say something about Logan.
"Nothing," she answered. She felt guilty to be thinking about that after such a harrowing experience. After losing Trip. She felt guilty about thinking they might need a distraction.
"That was not your 'nothing' face," he said.
Max finished with his hand, letting go of his and resting her own in her lap. The sudden loss of her warm skin clued him in she was done, and he pulled his arm back, unsure of what to say. Was he supposed to say thank you for washing away his dead friend? Or was her simple act indicative of something else? He wished she wasn't done.
Eventually, she worked a little on her own hands, but with much less attention than she'd given his. He would never know how desperately she had wished he had returned the favor.
It was as if he was suddenly attuned to her movements. Or still. It dawned on him he'd taken time when she wasn't looking to try to memorize every detail of how she looked tonight.
When he blinked, he thought about their almost-kiss in the hallway, at the start of the night, when they had nothing to lose and had a carefully constructed plan they would execute with perfection. She was filled with absolute hope. Throughout the gambling part of the night, up until the rooftop, he had entertained the idea that maybe there was something to her that had drawn him into her orbit. It seemed like she had let go of some preconception which only saw him as a menace to her life or an obstruction to her normalcy. And up on the rooftop, the snow glinting off the tears in her eyes as it dusted at everything below, he had seen her sincerity when she said he was better than what they designed him to be. He couldn't decide which moment was more amazingly beautiful.
Around six-thirty in the morning, they pulled off the freeway in Crescent Junction, Utah, for some water and gas. Without grabbing anything from her suitcase, Max headed toward the mart. "I got the gas. Need anything?"
Alec shook his head and as she disappeared into the mart to pay for the gas, he stepped out of the vehicle and began filling it up. He considered they might need a new ride before they got back to Seattle. They'd need to ditch the stolen SUV and pick up something other-state-ly.
For a moment, he thought about changing his clothes, but she hadn't, and he thought they may not have time to stop, and though he was in no danger of forgetting what happened not six hours ago, he wasn't ready to part with Trip. Trip's blood was the only physical evidence he had left.
Around the corner from the main entrance, Max found a working payphone and called Logan collect.
"Mrs. Crawford, huh?" Logan greeted. It was as if she was deliberately punishing him by using their assumed names. It was their misunderstanding, and, okay, he hadn't known to what conclusions she would jump, but couldn't she just give him a break on this one?
Max exhaled audibly. Did he expect her to just forgive him for being an ass? "Just keeping up my cover," she gritted, spreading her fingers out and staring at the ring.
"Where are you?"
"Crescent Junction. I think we got about eighteen hours left on the road. You got those IDs?"
A hush fell on Logan's lips.
"Logan? Tell me you got those IDs."
"I'm working on it," he said. "I'll try to have them ready when you get there. By the way, where is 'there'?"
"Santa Cruz."
"I'll do my best."
"Logan, you gotta come through for these kids."
She heard the tick-tick-tick of his typing. He had no answer for her.
"I'll call in a little while," she said, and promptly hung up.
When Max returned from the mart with two bags full of snacks and water, Alec had seated himself in the passenger's seat and had been fiddling with his sleeves, as if they made no sense folded up or unfolded, as if studying them would reveal a pattern that would help the situation make sense, or maybe, if his furrowed brow indicated anything, as if it pained him just to think about.
Back at Manticore, Max had never been a commanding officer. She was too young. When they escaped, it was Zack who had given their orders to split up, and even that was because when they all looked around to see who would intuit the group needs, none of their 'siblings' had stepped forward besides him. But with the deaths of Tinga and Ben, she had felt responsible. Zack had already told her how her emotional connections put others in danger. She had taken it to heart, this task of being accountable for their unit. When she felt her best wasn't good enough to save them, it had ripped her heart out. It all made her believe the guarded man sitting so small in the passenger's seat was probably going through more than he let on.
Max passed in front of the SUV, purposefully struggling with the bags so she could alert him to her presence and try to give him the option of pulling himself back together. If he could.
Clumsily, she opened the driver's side door and extended the provisions to Alec as she slid into the seat.
"How did you get this? You hiding more money?" He refrained from glancing toward the bust of her dress, remembering their earlier conversation.
Max smiled mischievously and closed the heavy door.
"What'd you get? Funyons and Ho-Hos?" Alec peeked into the bags. A small smile crooked up his mouth.
Just watching his face made her smile.
"Hamburgers, bananas and chocolate?" He looked over to her. He pulled a hamburger out and unwrapped it in his lap.
Max started the vehicle.
"Did you happen to get-"
"In the bag," she interrupted.
He peeked back in and moved a few items around. His face lit up again. He pulled three packets of mustard out as Max steered them back onto the highway.
Food. Apparently, food is the magic mood-enhancer. Alec almost smiled as he tore into the burger. She would never admit it out loud, but Max thoroughly enjoyed his animalistic behavior as he ate. Maybe it seemed like part of his personality was returning to stasis if he allowed himself the luxury of nourishment.
"Bite?" he asked, his mouth full and mustard nearly dripping out of the burger. He waved it toward her.
She was going to say no, but before she realized it, "yeah, sure," flew out of her mouth. He neared the sandwich to her and she took a healthy bite. At the same time, the SUV hit a dip in the road, which caused Alec's arm to shove the burger against her chin. The act sent a glob of mustard to her face.
They both burst into laughter.
"Nice moustache," Alec said, raising the pad of this thumb to her lip and smearing the yellow from her face. He brought his thumb back and tongued the mustard from it.
It was an unconscious act, but something about it caused an increase in tension in the cabin. Alec would never have done that to Original Cindy or Sketchy or Asha.
He cleared his throat and returned to eating the burger. "Can I get one set up for you?"
"Yeah, sure." She was feeling almost giddy.
"Extra mustard?"
"Absolutely."
Alec dug through the bag and pulled another burger, and as Max took care to avoid the bumps in the road, he laid the sandwich open on his lap and carefully doused it in mustard.
She liked this about Alec – that she could eat a burger or a sandwich or whatever with him. Their meals didn't have to consist of Kobe beef burgers direct from Japan or specialty cheeses meant to be eaten with crackers and jelly, or surf and turf with a Pre-Pulse whatever. Being at Il Giardino sure opened up her taste buds to a few flavors she'd never tried before, and that experience had been worth it; but, she didn't feel like she had pretenses to maintain with Alec.
He closed the burger and wrapped it so Max could hold it, drive, and still eat without getting mustard everywhere.
"Thanks."
After Alec finished his second burger, he tilted the seat back and promptly fell asleep. She figured, after their harrowing experience, and considering how his cocktail excluded shark DNA, he could probably use some rest.
As the trees passed on the side of the road, Max looked over to his slumped form. This whole mission had opened her eyes to a couple more sides of Alec she hadn't known existed, a couple more sides she appreciated for their honesty and liberty. Joshua's words floated into her mind as he described the painting of Alec. Alec very complicated. Outside, lots of pretty colors. Tricks and treats. Inside, darkness. Confusion.
In the passenger's side window, Alec's face reflected back toward her. It was different than his normal face, somehow. His usually boyish features were heavy with maturity. His normally smooth cheeks were stubbled with a day and half's growth. His brow was slightly furrowed and his lips slightly pursed. His body seemed tensed like a wire. She thought maybe he was having a dream.
No matter how long she'd been away from Manticore, she never seemed able to shake the nightmares. Some of them were so painfully realistic she'd wake up screaming and clutching the sheets or pillows in desolation, and anyone who tried to wake her up be damned by her fearful and angry flails. With others she could sometimes wake herself up and calm herself down.
Alec's face displayed the beginnings of the first type of nightmare. His breathing became more labored with each passing minute, his brows started to scrunch down; his eyes squeezed shut a little tighter; he grinded his teeth.
"No," he mumbled.
Max pulled the SUV over and rolled to a stop, shifting the vehicle into 'park'.
"No!" he shouted, his arms jutting out, grasping for a handle. His right hand hit the door, and his left reached toward the center console and ended up smacking against Max's arm.
If she could help it, she was going to try to save him from the nightmare. Max rubbed his arm gently. "Alec, wake up."
His eyes snapped open and soon relaxed as he found his bearings.
"You okay?"
Alec cleared his throat, having no idea how loud he had been. "Mm-hmm."
Max studied his face again. His pupils were returning to normal size and the worried lines were fading back into his forehead. "Nightmare?" she asked, though it sounded like she knew the answer already.
Alec brought his hands back and tilted his seat up. He stared at his sleeves for a moment before checking Max's bare arms, her face, her legs. "Yeah," he answered gruffly.
Images of the rooftop massacre cut through his mind, spraying the sight of Trip's reddened body and helpless, lifeless eyes all over his memory. He had dreamt that maybe he could have saved Trip. He had replayed it over in his mind through the dream.
The first time, dream Trip tried to duck out of the line of fire, but the Roses had still passed bullets in a sweep at their feet. The second time, dream Alec and Trip had both ducked behind the fixture with Max, but the Morinos had leveled their guns on all three, pulled their triggers, and managed to hit only Trip. But the third time, dream Max dove in front of Trip to protect him, and both Trip and Max had ended up full of bullet holes, bleeding out at Alec's feet.
Trip was killed instantly, the snow freezing his corpse, but Max lay there, motionless except for the shivering, pleading with Alec to somehow save her. He held her head and stroked her hair and begged her to stay with him, tears spilling down his cheeks, but she couldn't hold on. Her heart stopped and suddenly, her eyes stilled and her chest failed to rise again. Alec had yelled out 'no' and pulled her to him in a desperate embrace, but he found himself alone on the rooftop with her lifeless body, wondering what he was supposed to do now and crying out into the darkness.
Alec decided he wasn't going to tell her about that. He shut his eyes tight and tried to will the images away. When he opened them again, he double-checked Max's limbs for bullets.
Max felt his eyes roaming over her. It felt like a desperate attempt to make sure she was okay. She figured maybe he had dreamt about her. She wanted to tell him she was fine, but those words froze in her throat.
Alec settled a little, embarrassed, and avoided her line of sight. He looked back, and saw her warm brown eyes fixed on him. He looked away again, and when he looked back, there she was again, challenging him to stay with her, challenging him to open up to her, because she wasn't going anywhere.
"Do you want to change shirts?" Max asked, thinking that maybe removing the garment would ease his tenseness.
Alec followed her stare to his bloody sleeves. The redness had seeped in, dried and stained. He would have to throw the shirt away, and suddenly, that was the last thing he wanted to do.
He couldn't answer, which was answer enough for Max. She returned her stare to the road, despite how desperately she wanted to watch his face and take back her question.
After a few minutes of silence, Alec finally spoke. "Back at Manticore, Trip was always the strongest of his peers. Easily alpha material," he began. Max smiled with him. "Years ago, a couple of younger Xs were fighting over 733."
"Who's that?"
"Scarlet," he added before continuing. "They were arguing about which of them she would go after once she hit her first heat cycle."
Twisted, Max thought. Manticore was going to let that happen? She remembered how confused she was when she had her first cycle.
"And Trip breaks up the argument, staring over at Scar, and says they shouldn't bother, because he was certain they were gonna, you know, mate, once she hit her first heat."
Max's brows rose in surprise at Trip's confidence. It was kind of romantic, in a way, how certain he was that he and Scar had such a connection.
Alec stared into the distance. "And she just gave him this look, like he was the cockiest bastard on the face of the planet," he recalled, remembering the look Max had given him in her cell that day.
Max thought back to the way Scar had latched on to Trip back in the space between floors. She cared about him. "But isn't she-" Max started, looking over to Alec.
He completed her sentence. "Madly in love with him? Yeah, she is." Alec smiled, genuinely happy that Trip could have found his mate so early on.
Max felt her cheeks burning, smiling at his memory.
"And the kinda fucked up, sweet thing about them? They were gonna be breeding partners." Alec's smile fell to a slight pout as it dawned on him that they were going to have to tell Scarlet what happened to Trip. "And now I have to tell her that her soulmate is gone."
Max almost burst into tears right then. She couldn't imagine loving someone since she was fifteen and losing him before their life even began. This world was definitely fucked up beyond repair.
Alec returned his sight to the road, unmoving in front of them. His mind replayed the images of dream Max getting shot to death, and a look of dread washed over him. He wasn't sure if he had it in him to shatter a young girl's life with such crippling news.
Though she knew he was struggling with something, probably how to tell Scar about Trip's demise, Max kept her eyes forward. She wanted the privacy from his glance as much as he wanted it from hers. She imagined being at Jam Pony and receiving the news that something terrible had happened to Alec. She had zero idea if she would be able to speak, stand, walk, or do anything. She froze in place, her heartbeat increasing until she heard it in her ears.
"Max, you're crying. Are you okay?" came his deep, smooth voice.
Max looked over to Alec. He seemed concerned. She hadn't realized she was crying. Quickly, she used her knuckles to wipe her eyes, and turned over the ignition. "Let's get back on the road."