The moon cast soft white light over the boardwalk and the sand as Alec and Max parked the SUV in the lot adjacent to the restaurant. In various parts of the beach, people had set up bonfires and were warming themselves and socializing. They seemed celebratory.
Alec recognized the bus Biggs acquired sitting safely and peacefully a few spaces away. "You ready?"
Max nodded solemnly. No, she wasn't ready. She wasn't ready to tell both of them about the IDs, she wasn't ready to tell Biggs and Scar about Trip, and she wasn't ready to go back to Seattle with these failures on her mind and heavy on her heart. But she knew they'd have to do this eventually.
The two tired transgenics slipped onto the sandy asphalt and headed toward the beach. It was warmer than Seattle, and besides in training at Manticore, Max had never walked on sand. Within moments she realized her heeled shoes would do no good. She removed them and let them hang from her fingers as she and Alec made their way past the first bonfire and over to another circled by some of the kids they'd last seen climbing awkwardly out the window and to their freedom. A hopeful yellow light flickered over their faces. For some of them, the last time they'd seen fire was when Manticore burned.
Biggs came around the fire smiling. He trudged through the sand and met them halfway, but as soon as the firelight danced across Alec's face, Biggs knew something was wrong, and his smile faded. "What happened?"
Max hung her head and tried to make sense of the tiny dunes of sand somehow holding them all up. She cleared her throat. "We have some bad news," she began.
Alec looked to her just to see if she was going to continue, but Biggs was already piecing it together. He looked behind them, then back to the kids at the fire.
As if on cue, his eyes met Scar's and she immediately stood up and made her way to them. Biggs frowned, twisting back to Alec. "Where's Trip?"
Plagued by speechlessness, Alec pursed his lips and anger rode up into his throat.
Scar stopped across from Max. The silence carried on for moments long than it should have, until Max's face betrayed the outcome to Scar, and Alec said quietly, "He's gone."
Scar's eyes welled with tears, and despite how badly Max wanted to comfort the teen, she felt out of place, as if somehow, the responsibility to comfort was not hers.
"I'm so sorry, Scar," Alec started. Scar had started sobbing against what she thought was her better judgment, and as Alec's arms circled around her, they sank down onto the sand and she let the sobs come out freely.
It was a pleasantly surprising sight, watching Alec provide her with that support.
Biggs looked sad, and watched how Max's eyes seemed to flutter from the weight of her own tears. He nodded in the direction of the fire and Max joined him on the short trek back to it. Alec and Scar needed a minute or two.
"You okay?" Biggs asked.
Max's head jerked back, surprised. "Are you okay? Wasn't trip in your unit?"
Biggs nodded, shame drifting up into his eyes. "How did it happen?"
Taking a deep breath, Max began. "We got shuffled up to the roof. The Roses and Morinos started a firefight, and it seemed like we were all screwed." She paused to look away from him. "And then Alec and trip had this 'Algeria plan' or something. I just don't know why he did it…" she trailed. "We were going to improvise a way out, but then Trip ran and he just got shot over and over."
Max stared into the fire as Biggs took a deep breath, his dark eyes glued to her face, waiting for the rest of the story.
"There was nothing we could do. More guards were on their way and the chopper was already gone, and Trip was already gone."
Biggs joined her gaze, staring into the red-yellow flames, flames whose power was destructive and whose heat altered everything. He thought about his own deployments and undercover ops. He'd already lost so many in the name of Manticore, and he had known the risks. Sometimes, not everyone came back from battle. And it sucked, but that's how it was.
Max bit the inside of her cheek. "And there's something else."
Biggs looked at her expectantly.
Max fidgeted. "My contact wasn't able to acquire IDs for the kids. But I'll stay here and help with placement. I've already thought about it."
Biggs placed a warm hand on her shoulder. "It's not a problem." He gave her shoulder a squeeze. "I already got those taken care of."
She couldn't hide her surprise. "You did?"
Biggs feigned injury to his heart, much in the same way Alec defended against her barbs. "You think so low of me that I'd leave out the second most important piece of the mission?"
She hadn't thought about it. She'd been used to being the one who sought out contacts and buyers and private investigators. Of course Biggs had already lined up the necessary documents. He was Manticore-trained after all. "Sorry," she managed.
"Alec didn't mention it to you? I told him about it at Tease."
Max wasn't listening. She was lost in her own thoughts. Of course Logan wasn't the only one with contacts – it had just been convenient for him to do some of the non-legwork. It dulled her capabilities. And again, Alec's words crept into her mind. We don't belong with them. We, she repeated in her mind.
She chanced a look back to Alec and Scar. He was gently stroking her hair and rocking her almost imperceptibly. Scar just shook in desperate, noiseless sorrow. Her eyes were shut tight and her hands hugged at her own arms.
Max felt the sting of fresh tears, aggravated by the smoke from the bonfire. She just couldn't fathom what it felt like to lose the most important person in one's own life. Maybe Scar would eventually move on, but right now, her soul was shattered, and it just didn't seem fair.
Looking up to Alec's face, she suddenly felt a pang of desolation throughout her body. He was staring straight into her eyes, and she couldn't help but feel as if he was trying to tell her something; the urgent sadness in his stare dared her to look away.
Biggs' voice seeped into their silence. "He doesn't realize how lucky he is," he said vaguely. He was staring at her staring at Alec. Just then, Alec and Scar stood and headed toward the lot. "He's lucky to have someone like you looking out for him," Biggs said, staring back into the fire.
Max remained quiet, keeping an eye on the two forms as they rummaged through the items in the SUV.
"He hasn't ever had anyone like that before. He needs that."
As the tall X5 and the teen headed back to the beach, Max looked to Biggs. "He's had you," she said.
Biggs smiled, but deflected. "Not what I mean," he said as Scar stepped toward the fire clutching Alec's bloodied shirt, his warm hand gently pushing her forward.
"Listen up everyone," Alec called out. The kids at the bonfire and Biggs and Max all shut their mouths and turned their attention to Alec. He ushered Scar forward more.
"Um," she began, wringing her fingers in the shirt. "Will you all gather around please? I want to say goodbye to Trip."
A few gasps escaped some of the kids, but they each stood and gathered on the same side of the fire as Scar. The three adults hung back as Scar spoke barely above a whisper.
"Trip was my best friend. He used to say there was nothing we couldn't do as long as we were together. And we were gonna be together forever." Scar took a deep breath and pressed a few tears from her puffy eyes. "He was a great soldier, and I just know he would have been a great father one day."
Max eyed Alec discreetly. He was shadowed by the flames, tiny flecks of light sparkling in his eyes.
He knew she was watching him. He felt her stare. He always felt her stare.
"Many of you knew him, were friends with him, looked up to him. I'm really gonna miss him." Scar let a few tears stream down. In a tiny whisper, she added, "I loved him."
Alec clenched his jaw and looked away from Scar for a moment.
Scar looked down to the balled-up shirt in her hands. It was the proof of everything Trip would never get a chance to do. It was proof she was alone. She grasped it tightly and shut her eyes.
Max's mouth fell open in a silent cry. She'd never seen anyone so painfully honest or so heartbroken. She closed her eyes against the forming tears and tried to will them away.
As suddenly as she'd taken a breath to try to stifle her cry, she felt a warm hand dragging itself into hers, fingers intertwining with hers. She shivered involuntarily at his touch and looked up to him.
"Cold?" he asked quietly.
Max shook her head and dared to leave her hand in his. Even if she wanted to, there was no way she even could move it. And she didn't want to. He was there, supporting her, even though it was a member of his 'family' that they were mourning.
Filled with overwhelming gratitude for every time he'd been there for her, and wanting to show some reciprocity, Max hesitantly raised her other hand to Alec's arm and rested her hand at the crook of his elbow. She didn't really do comfort, and it made her worry she wasn't able to offer it properly, but she was committed to it and kept her hand on his arm.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze in response.
Max chanced a look up at Alec, but he wasn't looking at her, and maybe that was a good thing, she found herself thinking, because that urgent sadness was overtaking him, and she wasn't sure she could bear it if all of that sadness was focused on her.
She regretted the thought as she finished thinking it. Of course it was a selfish thought. Hadn't Alec done so much for her already?
Before he could succumb to Max's gaze, Alec met Scar partway through the crowd of children. His hand and arm slipped through Max's grasp, and he accepted the shirt Scar held out.
"I can't," she said between sobs.
Max stifled her sniffle. Now, Alec would have to do this for Scar, just as she had done for Alec. It was okay that someone else removed the bloodied shirt. It would be okay that someone else 'buried' Trip.
From behind him, Max could see the difficulty he was having by the slight twitching of his shoulders and back. He didn't want to do this, but he had to. She understood why he had to. He was their CO. He was an authority figure, and how he handled this would be the model for how they handled similar loss in the future.
But Max also understood the toll it took on a soldier to experience loss, and to pretend that not knowing why wasn't important, and to pretend that compartmentalizing made it somehow easier.
She stood statue-still, except for the way the breeze played at her dress, trying to send him the silent, invisible support he would never admit to wanting or needing.
Alec turned to face everyone, standing next to the fire. "'Tention!" he ordered.
Between them, most of the kids fell into two lines, each kid with their chins up, chests out, arms perfectly still at their sides. The other kids, unsure of what to do, mirrored the Manticore kids' stances.
Max found herself conforming to his call, and caught Biggs doing the same.
Alec turned on his heel, opened up the shirt, and lobbed it gently into the fire.
As the group of fugitives watched the shirt burn, they held the silence respectfully. Alec saluted the shirt, holding perfect form.
One by one, Scar, Max, Biggs and the remaining kids each raised their right hands, honoring Trip's memory.
Alec didn't break the salute until the shirt was gone, standing stoically facing the fire and releasing breath as if he'd been holding his breath the whole time.
"At ease," he commanded, more to Trip's memory than to the group.
The kids dispersed and huddled in small groups.
"Fifteen minutes," Biggs said to the children. "We've all had a long day and we need an early start tomorrow."
Biggs, Alec and Max met between the kids and the entrance to the beach. Biggs shook Alec's hand in a silent 'thanks.' They patted one another on the back, and Alec's eyes flitted to Max a moment before returning to Biggs. "So have you given any thought to Seattle?"
Biggs smiled and looked toward Max. "Remember that woman from Think Ink?" Biggs looked between them before a smile spread on his face. "She's meeting me here."
Alec's eyes grew wide, and Max detected they contained some happiness for his friend.
"I know what you're thinking. How do I know it'll work out? Well, we don't. But we belong together, and life is so short, why waste our time analyzing everything to death?"
Biggs watched Max as if reading her mind. He didn't know her very well, but suddenly she felt he was making a very astute statement aimed directly at her.
"Even if it goes against everything Manticore taught us about emotions," he added, leveling Alec with his playful stare.
Just as suddenly, Max thought that Biggs was Alec's Original Cindy. Always speaking the God's Honest and imparting some wisdom unto a genetically-enhanced fool.
"We're just gonna jump in." Biggs smiled wide again.
Max was dumbstruck. A smile found its way to her lips and she watched as Alec shook Biggs' hand again. Hadn't Biggs just said she was an Ordinary?
"I thought you said she knew about you. Aren't you afraid of putting her in danger?" Max asked, a question very reminiscent of Zack's speech from a time long-passed.
Biggs turned to her. "She's Manticore too," he divulged.
"What? Who?" Alec couldn't hide his surprise. "Anyone I know?"
Biggs shook his head. "She's from the Manistee facility."
Max's mind reeled with confusion. Of course Manticore wasn't restricted to Wyoming. It would have been a tactical oversight to have all your soldier-eggs in one basket. Had they been discovered, the whole project would go down and they wouldn't have the genetic materials to start over, or the backup of multiple other facilities' worth of soldiers. She wondered how many facilities existed.
Alec watched Max's face, somehow understanding the blank, far-off look she expressed, and knew they were going to have a talk about it all later. How could she have been aware of other facilities? He, himself, only found out about a few of them at thirteen, when he started his group missions.
Alec's brows arched in concern for the guilt he knew she'd feel for not burning down all of Manticore, the anger she'd feel for being so naïve, and the helplessness she'd feel for not being able to help them.
Biggs, observing these two disconnected people before him, smiled, and wondered if he had given them enough of a push, enough to make them think. "Her name's Ivy," he offered. "Designation 444."
Turning back to his friend, Alec said, "That's awesome news, Biggsy," but Biggs could tell the thought of the two X-Series transgenics successfully facing the world together really hit close to home.
"Congratulations," Max added, smiling. She tried to hide her hesitation – not at Biggs' happiness, but at her own willingness to accept that transgenics could have love lives. Successful ones, even.
"Thanks," Biggs said, taking a deep breath. "So what's next for you two? Head back to Seattle and fight the good fight?"
"We got friends there," Max said.
"Besides," added Alec, "there are a lot of us there who need help, and a lot of us who can provide that."
Biggs nodded in agreement, but before the conversation could get any more serious, Alec spoke again. "Ah, Biggsy! Don't be a stranger! Hell, maybe I'll find you in California one day."
The two men briefly hugged, patting one another on the back.
Max checked the bar behind them. "You want to come have a drink?"
"Nah, I gotta get these rug rats to sleep."
Max stiffened. She sucked at goodbyes. "It was nice meeting you, Biggs." She extended her hand.
Biggs stepped forward and pulled her into a hung. "You, too, Max."
Backing away from them, he added, "Take care of each other. I'll see ya soon." Biggs turned toward the bonfire.
"Well," Alec mumbled, punctuating the vague goodbye. "I need a drink."
Max felt rooted to the sand as she watched Alec's slumped shoulders heading into the bar. Maybe he expected her to follow, or that she'd eventually come collect him and deposit him on the filthy couch or sticky carpet of a dingy motel room, but she was transfixed by his shrinking figure.
He seemed overcome by everything. What had started as a promising mission turned into such a sad, dark failure. It wasn't easy to see him like that – so dejected. And it brought back memories of Ben.
She felt the tiny grains of sand gradually shift to rocky asphalt and then eventually pavement as her legs carried her through the entrance of the bar. She bore some responsibility for her role in this mess, and she needed to go apologize; she needed to ask for forgiveness.
The dance music played lazily over the speakers as Max maneuvered around groups and tables until she found her mark drowning himself at the bar. There were two women flanking him, but either they were oblivious to his body language screaming 'leave me alone,' or they were put off by his wedding ring, because neither could harness a fraction of his attention. The brunette on the left of him excused herself, and the blond on the right merely walked away without a word.
Max took the blonde's seat, dropped her shoes on the ground, and before the bartender could ask, said, "I'll have what he's having."
"Whiskey double?" asked the bartender.
Max nodded and peered at Alec as the tender stepped away to pour the drink. She bit her lip to refrain from saying the exact thing that was on her mind, at least not until he acknowledged her presence. If he wasn't holding a tumbler, she'd have thought he was strung like a fraying tightrope.
"What?" he asked gently.
"'What' what?"
"Why are you staring at me?" He finally looked over to her, expecting her pitiful stare. Instead, he saw the tiny glimmer of concern flash in her eyes before it was replaced by her soldier's mask.
"I'm just not used to seeing you like this," she said.
The bartender dropped off her drink, and feeling the tension between them, spun to return to his other customers.
"What? Alone at the bar?" he mocked. "I am capable of wanting more than just a warm body, you know."
Max was quiet. She wasn't ready for things to go back to the way they had been. She said demurely, "I was going to say 'raw.'" Max punctuated her statement with a gulp of the whiskey.
The flurry of movement drew Alec's sight to her. She didn't even make a face at the taste of the alcohol. She visibly and purposefully relaxed some of the tension in her shoulders.
"Don't you ever feel… exhausted… from keeping things in all the time?"
Well, this is interesting, he thought. He shifted toward her on the stool. "Keeping what in?"
Max picked at the tumbler's edges and stared into its wetness. "Everything, I don't know. The things other people don't know about you."
He reflected on her question. The things other people didn't know about him could probably fill a book, he thought. Things like: he had a best friend in Manticore that he never talked about. He had nightmares almost every night. There were things he was proud of – having friends, getting close to Max, having her look at him with anything more than a passing glance or scowl. But there were some things of which he was deeply ashamed and by which he was deeply embarrassed: his previous moral depravity, his militaristic excellence, Rachel, and now Trip.
He knew what being a soldier meant, and he knew he wasn't the only soldier at this bar. Sipping some whiskey and letting it coat his tongue, he turned back to her. "Sometimes," he answered honestly.
Max broke her staring contest with the liquid and met his eyes.
After another short bout of silence, Alec gave a small nod. "Ask it already."
"What?"
"That question threatening to jump off your tongue."
She wondered how he knew. She always wondered how he knew without her express say-so. Why, if she could fool everyone else into believing she was fine, couldn't she fool Alec? It couldn't be a Manticore thing – no one there could read her as well as Alec could, not even Zack or Ben. And Logan had been way too self-involved and thick-headed to realize she had emotions, complex ones which extended far beyond pasta or superhero, guilt or fun; it was a fact she hadn't realized until the Crawfords put it all into perspective.
The only parallel she could draw was to Original Cindy, but even then, Max had only divulged what she was thinking or feeling half of the time.
So why was Alec so different?
Max took another sip and fidgeted with her glass. "How come you never mentioned I was on 'shoot-to-kill'?"
Alec was almost relieved that this was her question. He looked away, a hurt expression crossing his features. "I didn't want you to believe I ever thought of you that way. I mean, Max, you're a lot of things, you're, you're stubborn and strong and sometimes mean, and you're… accepting and tolerant and smart-"
"We were all made to be smart," she interrupted.
"Not just book-smart, Max. You have an intuition unlike anyone else I know. But deserving of death? No. I never wanted you to believe that's how I thought of you. Because I don't think you realize what you've done for… everyone."
"What? Put giant targets on their bodies? Those can't be lasered off."
"No, I'm serious. You've given every single Manticore soldier a gift. News of what you did proved they could do something about their lives, too. You gave them hope. You gave me hope."
Max sat up straighter, and with some determination in her eyes, and maybe trying to prove him wrong, said, "I'm sorry I didn't make Trip stay put."
"Don't blame yourself. Blame me. I was his CO. Looking out for him was my job."
The gruffness of his voice betrayed his anger, and Max found her gaze shift to his chest. He was breathing hard, maybe near tears – she wasn't sure.
"You trusted me with his life and I was supposed to help you save him. I should have protected him." She couldn't speak beyond those words. She couldn't tell him it wasn't his fault. Her vocal chords felt paralyzed.
Alec lifted his glass and took another gulp.
For a minute or two, they sat in silence, shoulder to shoulder, facing the bar, like repentant angels with broken halos.
Max thought about all they'd been through over the past couple of days. She'd never felt so alive, nor so grief-stricken. Even Manticore's Best weren't good enough to save Trip.
Pulling herself to her feet, Max stepped back from the stool. Alec craned his neck. "Going to the motel?"
Her hair fell forward as she shook her head. She gripped his shoulder lightly and dragged her fingers down his arm, pulling at it by the elbow. She knew if he had to speak, her resolve would disintegrate.
"What?"
Max backed away, urging him to follow, which he reluctantly did, abandoning his glass at the counter.
Just a few steps away from the bar, Max pulled his hand to rest at the small of her back, an action which brought him closer and which let him know his hand was intended to remain. She followed the path of her left hand as it traveled up his right arm, mirroring her right hand to the left's movement. She let her instinct take over, closing her eyes against the comfort she chanced to offer as her hands locked behind his neck.
Hoping this action meant something, but confused by the very possibility of what it might offer, Alec brought his other arm around her, gently pulling her side to side.
When he allowed her to pull him closer, he heart nearly broke. He was letting her in. He was letting her hold him in the guise of a dance.
And she was permitting him to do the same.
Max rested her head on him, facing his neck. She opened her eyes, feeling safe from being called out on this emotional vulnerability. He would never have accepted it if she had asked. She watched how his Adam's apple moved as he swallowed, listening to his heartbeat through his chest. It was strong and against her ear, made her feel safe. More than safe.
It quickened a bit, and she could see his throat moving as he swallowed a few times in succession. Max swept her fingers up into the hair at the nape of his neck and nuzzled her face closer to him.
Her gesture was beautiful to him. As he tried his hardest not to break down over all they'd been through and what they'd sacrificed, he felt Max's reassuring breath on his skin.
As soldiers, they had no moments like this. Superior officers to which all soldiers answered did not offer condolences or sanction vulnerability. Those things were taught superficially, to be used only as tools on their missions. It made Alec wonder where she had learned this. He both hated and loved her for it.
He closed his eyes and found himself hugging her tighter, trying to sort out the emotions which flooded him.
Maybe it was his first real hug, the first time someone reached out to him and he felt himself reaching back – a gratitude for everything she'd done for him.
He realized that without her, the mission to save Trip would have been drastically different. Maybe Trip would have survived, but maybe they would not have been able to save the other fifteen kids. Maybe Biggs or he or both of them could have gotten themselves caught or killed.
The tighter he held on, the more grateful he felt, and the more he didn't want to let go. Just touching her made him feel raw, like at any moment she might discover all of his secrets, all at once and without his express permission. Except on top of all that, he didn't care if she knew. She'd already seen his worst and hadn't turned away.
Deep in his embrace, Max nuzzled further into his neck and reveled in his ability to trust her to be so close to such a vulnerable part of him.
"I'm sorry I let you down," Max said in a tiny whisper against his neck.
Alec released some of the tension in his arms to pull his head back. The motion caused her to do the same, and for a moment, they stared and swayed. "You didn't," he said with a slight shake of his head.
Again, Max watched the Manticore mask dissolve, until before her, a grieving man who had lost his friend stood, broken and begging forgiveness.
Her heart broke all over again. She wasn't sure why, but something in his expression drew her closer until her eyelids drifted shut and his palms slid up her back and his fingertips swept up to the back of her neck. She leaned toward him once again and grazed her lips against his.
With all of the conflicting emotions boiling just under the surface, Alec felt his skin humming. Every fiber in his being was screaming 'What the hell are you doing?!,' which is exactly what he expected Max to yell at him, but she wasn't yelling. She wasn't even pushing him away.
Parting from the small kiss, Alec watched Max's face with some hesitancy, terrified that she would reject him now – now that he had shown himself completely, but her eyes narrowed in a beautiful confusion, as if pleasantly surprised by something she didn't know she wanted. She felt him hesitate as they swayed back and forth; she saw that rawness coming through again. She was pulled back to him.
Their lips touched a second time, and pushing his lower lip between hers, Alec teased her upper lip with his tongue. A small intake of breath and lack of knee to the groin were his only clues as to how she would react to this new kind of intimacy between them.
Need overwhelmed him when she parted her lips further, and as their tongues seemed to stroke one another's, he felt this kiss was somehow softer than before. Max had snaked her other hand to rest over his heart, deepening and slowing their kiss.
Soon, they lost themselves in solace.