DISCLAIMER: Dark Angel borrowed, no profits realized.

A/N: This sequel retells events related to an earlier story, Asylum, from Bling's point of view. As with Asylum, all events here will be those seen, heard, or experienced through only one character.

I would really appreciate some feedback here – it appears that you don't like this one. From the number of hits, compared to the number of reviews, it seems a fair number of you found this story even during FFN's recent illness, but it hasn't moved many to comment. If this story is just weak indulgence, please let me know, and we'll scrap it! I can take it – I'd rather know, and take it down, than keep posting a losing effort...

Whichever way – thanks for stopping by.

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Asylum:

Book II

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Bling followed Logan out to the kitchen, letting his eyes flicker over his friend's movements with a professional eye. Just tired, Bling noted with some relief. Doesn't appear weak or shaky. Probably a good part of the tiredness is mental – discouragement can wear him out faster these days than a full court press does.

"Have you eaten?" Logan asked over his shoulder as he headed toward the cupboard for another coffee mug.

Bling smiled to himself as he nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Thanks." Tired, but remembers his manners. He'll be alright, for the time being, especially if Max follows through on her threat tonight – as if anything could stop her. "Go ahead if you haven't eaten anything."

Logan didn't reply to that, but merely filled both mugs full of coffee. Bling found himself analyzing it all: he knows I take it black, as he does, so doesn't leave room for milk or sugar; he knows I'll grab the mug for him, so he doesn't have to skimp on filling it, to avoid sloshing. Almost like an old married couple...

...that's why this feels so hard, Bling knew. Almost like asking for a divorce.

Logan handed the mugs to Bling and turned to move toward his refrigerator. Leaning in, he pulled out a generous bowl of grapes to grin up at his friend. "When was the last time you've had these?"

Bling blinked, impressed. "Can't remember. Where did you find them?" he asked.

"Max had a run out by the docks, and was there as they were being unloaded. Looked like a private delivery – or maybe a shipment for a restaurant. Whichever, she sweet-talked one of the dock hands into selling her some. C'mon – to celebrate your homecoming." Logan put the bowl in his lap and pushed out toward his dining table, Bling following. As Logan lifted the bowl to place it on the table and pulled up closer, Bling handed him his coffee and took a seat across from him.

Apart from a murmured thanks, Logan sat quietly, sipping his coffee without speaking, his mood slipping back again from the spark of life Bling had seen as he pulled out the grapes. He's going to fight this, no matter how it's approached. Maybe just offer it as a consideration, for future use...? "Logan – seriously. You need to take a look at Eyes Only. You've done a lot of good for a lot of people, and have gotten more accomplished with civilian volunteers than anyone could imagine. But things have changed – you've tried several ways to keep it going as it had been, but since word's gotten out about your being Eyes Only and how you operated – it just doesn't look like the old methods can survive." The pained green eyes swung up to his, begging for a retraction that he had to know wouldn't come. "I know you don't want to hear it, but come on – you can't tell me you haven't thought exactly the same thing."

"So, what, I'm supposed to just leave it all, just walk away?" Logan mumbled into his mug, eyes cast down now. Borne of the four, close years he'd spent with this man, Bling recognized the petulant words and tone as a plea for Bling's input on a topic he'd probably already spent weeks chewing on himself.

"No." Bling waited, and as he knew he would, Logan finally looked up, mildly irritated that Bling toyed with him like this, mildly contrite at being caught at his attempted manipulation. It was enough, Bling decided. The topic hurt them both enough that Bling wouldn't poke at him any more, or make this any harder. "Maybe with hindsight, you can assess what you've done so far, and from that, think about what you'd like to do from this point on. What were you going to do next, if you hadn't been discovered? What had you hoped to do? Just keep on looking for corrupt officials? Wait for reports from the 'Net, follow problems as they arose?"

Logan's eyes narrowed, looked off in the distance. "I suppose... keep going as we'd been going. There never seemed to be a shortage of projects to investigate," he added, cynically.

"Okay, well, that option has been taken from you. I know you had a couple different plans for dismantling the 'Net, if your records were compromised, or if you were caught and pumped for information. But ... no plans for voluntarily shutting down and transferring the work into a different approach?"

"It hadn't occurred to me," Logan said, dryly.

"What about now?" Bling waited for the inevitable reaction, and when Logan reluctantly looked back to his trainer, Bling asked, "it's been a while now since it all came out, and your efforts to keep things going as they had been aren't working. So now what?"

Logan sighed. "I don't know."

Bling considered him. Honest answer... but incomplete. If I know Logan at all, he's given it plenty of thought but just hasn't come up with an answer he likes yet. "You want to keep at it?" he tried, softly. It wasn't really a question, but would allow discussion to begin...

Logan nodded. "Yes, of course. As much as I can."

"You're aboveground now, and addressing some things that way. The Free Press has a wider distribution than the P-I or the Times does, so clearly the word is getting out. That's good," Bling encouraged.

"Good, but not enough. I've looked into a few things for them that I can't let anyone know about until they're ready to be published, for fear of endangering either the staff or our sources. It's like shooting in the dark," Logan's voice carried the frustration he felt at being hobbled by working aboveground.

"Still? Things are better now; the system is back to working far more like it should be – much of it thanks to you. I thought most of the corrupt ones had been run out."

But Logan grimaced, clearly not satisfied. "How can we take the chance that it is? When it was just Eyes Only hacks, it could all be pointed back to me, only – they find out who I am, they go after me, end of story. Only I knew the all sources and the extent of the 'Net. But with the paper, there has to be a lot more than just one person involved. The more people involved aboveground, the more targets for them to go after, if the paper tries to go after the real dirt. So we have to play it safe – safer," he corrected. "And try to tell me that some of the vultures out there haven't already figured that out."

Bling considered pointing out to Logan that it had gone far past 'being limited only to' himself as Eyes Only, but thought better of it – as usual, Logan was dramatizing his point, but it was a point certainly well taken, and a sobering concern. "So ... how much can you do alone, if you were to start it over again now? Maybe rebuild, as you did back when? You could concentrate on the darker stuff, get it out there in another guise?"

"'Back when,' I could do a lot of digging myself – not only was I a lot more mobile," he said grimly, "no one knew me, or knew what I represented. And I had some contacts already, from writing for the paper."

"You still have contacts. Maybe you just need to find a way to communicate with them that's less public, and less traceable." Bling mused.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Any ideas for that?"

Bling shrugged, letting a small smile play around his lips. "You're the idea man. I'm just the muscle."

Logan snorted softly. "Seems you've have a lot of suggestions and opinions over the years, for just being muscle."

Bling's smile broadened a bit with his words. Yeah, and you're welcome, he replied, silently. No matter the tone or the words, Bling knew exactly where he stood with this man. He felt honored to call him friend, and was pleased when he could be of assistance. He knew how much Logan relied on him in the early years, and how that had shifted gradually to even greater respect and appreciation of his friendship and his direct, honest input when needed. I know how you've felt about those suggestions and opinions, both as they were raised, and in hindsight when you decided I was right. So maybe, for all that, you'll hear me out, now... "You'll think of something, if you need to." Bling took a grape to savor its sweet, long-missed flavor, then tried, "what if you did it from someplace else – far enough away that no one would suspect your involvement here, anymore?"

"Like where – Canada? How could I be of any use from there?" Logan dismissed the idea immediately.

Bling's response finally opened the issue he'd been hoping to raise. "Tell me exactly how it would be any different, if you had to rely on telephone calls and e-mail and the Internet anyway – you could phone someone on the street as easily from across the border as you could from up here."

Logan hesitated, thinking; looking for an argument and not finding a good one? Bling hoped. "It wouldn't all have to be like that. Certainly I could get out and around; maybe get some info from people at those more public Cale Industries functions I've been avoiding..."

"You really think so? Why would they start talking now? Why would they suddenly be willing to open up to you again, any more than they were right after you were outed?" Bling pressed now. "Logan ... think about it – think of what you were actually doing for Eyes Only in the months before it all came out. You were doing a lot less of the leg work, and concentrating on getting through security systems and into files from up here. Why not think about doing the same from further away? Hook up with someone like Matt, if he's willing, to be your eyes and ears even more directly and run that side of things. Scale it down and tackle some specific offices or 'businessmen,' but do it leaner and meaner." Bling saw he had Logan's attention, and went on, "from further away, you'd be out of the public eye, fewer calls for help taking your eyes off the ball – and fewer threats." When he saw the unconscious confirmation in Logan's eyes, Bling asked, his voice quieter, "they've increased, too, haven't they, the threats against you, against others around you? What if they're real, Logan?"

"There have always been threats, a lot of them unspoken, and maybe worse– the mayor's office, the police, or governor's office..."

"... or Manticore?"

The green eyes flashed their concern before veiling it. "We don't know that they've caught on..."

"We don't know that they haven't." Bling urged, and, ready to close in on his best argument in this, added, "they may be many things, but they're not stupid. Lydecker knows Max is still here and knows she's got a connection to you – maybe even more than you've been able to discover. As much as you've been trying to get information about Manticore, someone by now must have figured out that either Eyes Only, or Logan Cale, or both, have an interest in them. It may be that they haven't yet figured out what it all means, but why wait 'til they do? You can get Max out of here, and the both of you can go somewhere Lydecker and Manticore wouldn't expect to find either of you."

Logan shook his head, unwilling to meet the other's eyes at the turn the conversation was taking. "Max won't want to leave Seattle. Too many connections here; too much worry that the others might need her – or might come looking for her. At least some of them know where to find her here ..." Logan looked back to Bling, temporizing. "And Lydecker has seemed to leave her alone for quite a while, even though he knows she's here, too. It's as if it's been pretty much a stale-mate, lately. Max thinks maybe he's decided it wouldn't be better to try to drag them back after all these years..."

"But you've always said you can't rely on that – and that you suspect she's telling you that to make you worry less." Bling pressed. "Besides – even if she's right, and Lydecker's called himself off – what if someone else gets involved with the project, and wants another look? What if the powers that be don't like the fact that you've been snooping, and even if they let her off the hook, they come after you? Or what if you and Max were ever to have kids – they'd want a peek, just like they did with Case..." Tough words that, before, they'd all tacitly agreed not to voice, but Bling saw he was getting through. "You've talked about getting Max to a place where she can feel safer, even before all this came out. Now, more than ever, for you and for Max – maybe it's time you pull out a couple of those 'long-term' identities you created – for both of you." He raised his eyebrows, prodding. "I can't think of a better time for it."

Logan looked beaten, haggard – a sign he was starting to give up, to give in to the situation he didn't want to face. With a swallow, his expression carrying his attempt to hide his feeling of failure, he lifted his eyes to his friend and tried, "what, you're tired of coming around every so often, to trying to kick some sense into me?"

Bling saw again in Logan's face how much his friendship meant to him, and appreciated that Cale saw him as he did Logan, as a brother. "Logan..." he began, wondering if he was pressing too much to admit this so soon. He dropped his head, thinking, then raised it to look back to the most talked-about eyes in Seattle, and shrugged, the bittersweet irony lending a softly-sad sound to his words. "You didn't ask me why I came here today."

Looking uncertain, Logan paused, as if looking for the answer first, before finally asking, "why?"

Bling's soft smile quirked up slightly as he admitted, "I was here to try and find a way to tell you ... that ... I'm leaving Seattle, to go be with Sandra."

"Bling..." Logan breathed, his eyes widening. Bling could see that the news surprised – and pained – his friend, and he suddenly remembered how many times this man had been left behind by those important to him. This time, however... he didn't have to be left behind...

"Don't you get it?" Bling sat forward, the plan making so much sense to him he couldn't let Cale refuse. "This town would be the perfect answer for you and Max – rural, out of Eyes Only range for all but the most powerful reception units ... friendly people, self-sufficient ... they seem to take care of their own there; Sandra has said several times that if anyone is hurting or needs a hand, the others in the community just pitch in to help. Over a century ago there were Mennonite settlements in the area, and apparently their ways just ... stuck. Think 'barn raisings' and 'quilting bees,' but with modern application." Bling watched carefully as, even though he was trying to resist, Logan was listening ... and considering... "Add to that, it's less than two hours from Chicago. You're under two hours from anything you'd need or want that can be gotten anywhere these days, above ground or below – a perfect, big city where someone could disappear, or find quick transportation out, if it came to that. Think about it, man," Bling pressed, his hope now apparent. "It's perfect." He waited a moment before playing his ace. "You can get Max out of here, and take her to a place Lydecker wouldn't expect to find her."

"I wouldn't go without Max," Logan conditioned his response. "If she didn't want to come, too..."

"I know." Bling nodded, "wouldn't expect you to. But ask her, man..." he urged. "Last I heard, you've never found any evidence that Manticore or anyone connected with it has shown up in the Midwest," the therapist pointed out. "Given that neither of you have connections there, Lydecker won't think to look there."

"He might now, especially if he doesn't like losing track of her – her to me, me to you, you to Sandra & out there with her..."

"But just as you said, he knew where to find her here, without looking very far, and hasn't made a move in all this time. And if you disappear from here, show up there with all ties to Seattle severed..."

"A new identity?" Logan mused, as if just processing what Bling had suggested, earlier.

"Your call. You might consider it for the both of you."

Suddenly the sound of someone stabbing the buttons on the security panel was heard, followed by a couple steps and a slam of the door before the biting clip of Max's heels banged down Logan's floorboards. Bling and Logan looked up in surprise to see Max appear before them, eyes glowing with rage, an angry scrape starting to purple across her temple and blood oozing from a cut on her arm, as well as from her knuckles.

"Max – " Logan's pale face went paler. "What...?"

"A couple of your fans thought they'd take me for a ride. They decided that the quickest way to the American Dream was to snatch 'Eyes Only's shorty' –and her bike – and hold you up for a few bucks." Max was clearly far more angry than injured, as she started looking herself over, tugging at her torn sleeve and grunting at the damage she saw to her favorite jacket. "They're lucky to be alive, although they're not going to be able to live the life for a while – and one is going to have to eat through a straw for several weeks. That was for what he did to my baby." She barely registered as Bling got up quietly, laid a hand on her shoulder as he pulled out one of the chairs, and guided her to sit before he went into the training room to fish out some antiseptic and gauze.

"Who were they?" Logan managed. As always, the thought that anyone could get close enough to Max to even muss her hair was clearly disturbing to him. Seeing her injured, even superficially, rattled him. "How many?"

"Four. Some out-of-shape, James-Bond-ninja wannabes. The garage was wired to catch my bike, right at the frame – and damn if I never saw it; I wasn't thinking about watching for booby traps," she growled her frustration at her own failing. "One of the losers even brought chloroform. I could have just used it on them, and I might have, if they hadn't been so damned ..." she bit off her words, as if deciding not to share some additional portion of events, as Bling returned with his supplies.

"C'mon, Max, let's get your jacket off..." Bling's soothing, therapist voice took control.

"Might as well burn it now; it's ruined..." she griped, the intensity of her anger burning off little by little, as she pulled out of the jacket and dropped it to the floor.

Logan had simply watched, unmoving, until he finally spoke. "Max..." Logan's eyes were pained, carrying worry for more than only her physical safety. "How do you know they were 'fans' of mine? Did they say ..?"

Bling watched Max's ire morph into indignation for the man before her, and, oblivious to the conversation the men had just been having, Max turned to Logan in some protective concern. "Just more crackpots, Logan; more of those jerks out there who think that because you gave so much as Eyes Only you owe them some sort of free hand-out." Bling worked silently on her arm first, noting that it was a clean cut – a blade of some sort, he realized, mildly surprised that Max would have let a knife get that close – unless the four had been a better force than she was admitting. "They were cowards who figured it would be easy to snatch a chick. Imagine their surprise," she added, finally with some of her humor back, albeit with a cutting, sarcastic tone. "The little weasel with the chloroform is going to be tasting that stuff for a week..." Her momentary satisfaction was squelched by another memory. "But my baby..." she mourned, "they scraped it up and wrecked the suspension..."

Bling looked back to Logan – Max was still too pissed off to see it, but the attack on Max had cut him more deeply than it had her, the reasons both painful and unreasonable. "Max," Logan breathed, sliding his hand along the table toward her, "I'm sorry."

The sound of his voice got though to her, Bling saw. She turned to face Logan more fully and shook her head, her voice not allowing argument. "It wasn't your fault. Don't even think of taking the blame because some whack jobs think that your generosity is their entitlement."

"But to use you, to get to me..."

She tried to dismiss his concerns. "Logan, you know I can fight off any of these losers..."

"But you shouldn't have to..." he whispered, pained. Still holding her hand, he looked up at Bling, catching his eye – and Bling could practically see their entire conversation replay in Logan's mind, now filtered through this attack on Max.

The pain he saw in his friend's expression let Bling know he needed to retreat, and let the couple have time to themselves, to sort this out. Maybe this will be the start of that conversation they need to have, he allowed himself to hope as he turned to Max. "Anyone else, I'd suggest a few stitches for that arm, but I think you'll be okay with some steri-strips – unless you think you need them."

"Nah – thanks, Bling." Her voice had softened, and she looked back to Logan, smiling ruefully. "This wouldn't seem so bad if you weren't so exhausted, you know," she coaxed, letting her thumb rub up over his knuckles, urging him to relax. "May have to kick you out, Bling," she added, not taking her eyes off an overtired Logan, even as she spoke to his therapist. "I promised Logan I was tucking him into bed, whether he liked it or not – and would knock him out if I had to, to do it."

"So I heard." Bling stood. "And, as I told him – I approve. Do what she says, man," Bling counseled. "I would feel awfully sorry for you if you didn't listen when a beautiful woman is trying to get you into bed – for whatever reason."

It was a measure of how deeply divided Logan was, his eyes still searching Max's face, that he barely reacted to the more personal part of his trainer's jab, but at least managed to roll his eyes to protest half- heartedly, "I don't need you two ganging up on me again..."

"Sounds as if you do," Max countered smoothly, "especially if Bling meant that 'beautiful woman' part, and wasn't just throwing it in to get extra points..." she tried a small smile, raising an eyebrow toward Bling, who shook his head solemnly.

"I stand by what I said earlier." He glanced back to Logan and added, meaningfully, "all of it."

Max glanced from one face to the other, and, both eyebrows now raised in immediate response, asked, "what'd I miss?"

Bling picked up the first aid supplies and smiled gently. "Just me picking on Logan, same ol' same ol." He considered them both as he retrieved his jacket, ready to leave. "Logan, give me a call tomorrow if you want to shoot some hoops."

"Okay," Cale said softly, barely processing Bling's last words... barely taking his eyes from Max.

Logan's thoughts were anywhere but hoops, Bling could see. At the moment, he was far more focused on the woman sitting across from him ... and his conversation with Bling before she came in. As the trainer turned to go, acknowledging Max's soft good-bye, he felt a ripple of guilt, knowing that the attack on Max couldn't have come at a more auspicious time. Is this wrong to take advantage of an attack on Max, however ill- conceived, to pressure Logan to join us out there? Am I doing this more for my own hope that Logan Cale could be close by, his friendship at hand, than for the safety or well-being of either Max or Logan?

No, his words had been truthful, Bling realized, stepping into the elevator and hitting the button for the lobby floor. Even if his intentions were ... less than honorable? ...serving his own, selfish wishes as well as theirs? ...whatever the purpose, he knew his concern was well founded and the solution a good one. And if he was able to take some benefit from it and they actually moved out there too ... so much the better.

The elevator doors opened and Bling walked out to the garage toward his car, seeing a damaged Ninja parked near Logan's Aztek, and the Fogle Towers' doorman standing by an ambulance as med techs loaded what appeared to be an unconscious form. The last of the four? Bling wondered, or one hapless casualty left behind by the others? Maybe if Logan used some sense ... maybe if Max was willing to leave Seattle, at least for now... maybe it would be the last casualty she would have to leave behind, for a good long while...

TBC...?