AN: Let's not be too proud of me folks for posting quickly, after all I was working on this for well over a month before I started to post. Let me point out though, with every word I write, I keep thinking of another one to write. One mini story in this is leading to another, 80 chapters leaves a lot of loose ends to tie up. :-P
Thanks so much for reading guys and the great reviews. I really appreciate and trust me they always make the chapters come faster.
Chapter Eight-Three
Epilogue-Pt.3
The house was quiet as she woke up with a leisurely stretch. "You behaving now?" she asked as she slowly sat up with a hand on her stomach. Her movements had become much slower than they had in the past.
She looked down as she stood and checked out the brown kicks still on her feet. She smiled and shook her head remembering how neat and orderly Logan's penthouse had been and here she was put to bed on the light tan bedding, then again she was sure everything in his old place had been dry clean only…Oh how things had changed.
A quick peek out the windows informed her night had already started to set and she should probably get back to her day. Shuffle Cale upstairs for a bath since Logan wouldn't have because she was sleeping. Harass Logan for a bit, get some anniversary attention, grab some grub since her stomach was now empty…Definitely brush teeth first.
-o-o-o-
She paused in Cale's doorway, leaning against the door with a wistful smile. The dinosaur sheets had long since been replaced, she wondered how much longer he'd fit into the bulldozer bed Alec and Zen had created for him.
Soon he'd be moved into the bedroom Joshua was creating for him. When given the choice between keeping his old room or the baby having a bigger room, their son had flipped and gone against what they'd expected in what she was guessing was an early case of sibling rivalry; apparently no 'little brother' should have anything bigger. He'd tried to score both bedrooms at first, but eventually gave in and settled on only the bigger one.
She smiled thinking of the room just next door that Joshua had invaded earlier in the week to paint and apparently build up depth and texture on the walls as he created a faux brick façade on one wall. She'd gone in to check on the progress while Josh was still there and remind him it was a child's room and didn't need to be quite as dreary as the outside world he was trying to recreate. He'd shuffled her out screaming about paint fumes and the rugrat.
No one let her do anything anymore.
She smiled though thinking about the big fella and his peculiar 'big brother' ways.
He continued to thrive. They all seemed to be thriving. Not just the transgenics, but the whole city.
If the topic itself of the transgenics or Terminal City was brought up most still flared with animosity, but they weren't regularly brought up anymore. The news occasionally showed a clip or two of them, but they'd somehow managed to keep themselves well-behaved enough to keep out of the news.
Some of those who'd normally been confined to the walls of TC had taken over nightshifts at construction crews. Significantly lesser pay, even less in the way of benefits for those few companies that actually had benefits (meaning absolutely none).
The companies had tried sneaking around their involvement, never mentioning to anyone about a 'night crew.' According to a few folks down at TC it had taken months for the day workers to raise any questions. Logan had started spouting off about a shoemaker and some elves when he heard; she'd just shrugged and said, 'I'm amazed they're saying anything now.'
They'd picketed at night and shown up tired in the mornings until finally they reached some type of a deal with their employers, who couldn't stand the bad press. Daytime, non-transgenic jobs were safe. Their hours didn't change, just their time on each job site. Projects were finished in almost a third of the time. The city almost actually looked like a real city in parts.
The 'Urban Renewal' series of articles that Logan had written had actually been re-published in just about all the major newspapers across the country. A model of how vastly different individuals could learn to coexist if not work together when presented with a bigger problem.
He was one of a sea of writers who occasionally looked for the good in the transgenics instead of those who still sought to inflame the masses. Nothing too pro-transgenic to ensure scrutiny of the man and his family, just simple facts, basic comparisons, a little something to help.
There were those who sought full and equal rights on a regular basis, those who fought and demanded recognition aside from all branches of the military that promised them a place within them should they ever decide to 'come home' though that hadn't been broadcast for the nation, just them. She had gotten an interesting phone call early this past summer regarding all that…
:Flashback:
"Hello?" Cale answered.
"Who's on the phone?" Logan asked walking into the room, expecting a friend since everyone else knew to contact them on their cell phones.
Cale frowned and held the phone out, "Sounds like Mommy?"
Logan quickly took the phone away from Cale and frowned, especially since Max was only in the kitchen. "Hello?"
"I sound like Mommy? Well if that isn't unexpected I don't know what is," Sam leaned against the wall of the payphone so she could see and wave to Nick who was leaning up against the car by the back door to keep an eye on their daughter slumbering in her car seat. Not trusting her enough to let her go do this on her own, she gave him a fake smile, then again did put it off for over a month.
"Sam, how can I help you?"
"Guessing you guys jumped first and thought about consequences later after you fixed the bitch," she smiled into the phone. Funny how easily people shared gossip when you shared someone's DNA, she was pretty sure she knew their entire history from that short time she spent in Terminal City.
"Somehow I don't think that's what you called about," Logan replied dryly.
"Who's calling about what?" Max asked walking up behind him after seeing her son pop his head into the kitchen looking puzzled before throwing a look over his shoulder and heading out again.
"Your not so better half," Logan said removing the phone from his ear.
Wasn't that him, she thought with a frown before it started to sink in as she took the phone from him. "Sam," she said her name simply, how did one greet the person with near identical DNA (especially in all the areas that you could see on a regular basis), but that had tried to destroy them?
"Would have thought that would have been Logan's title," Sam eerily joked.
"Who's Sam?" Cale asked tugging on his fathers shorts as Logan sat perched on the arm on the couch watching.
"Nobody," Max said with a hand on her son's back, shuffling him out of the room, "why don't you and Daddy go outside for awhile, the rain stopped."
Cale frowned over his shoulder as his father did the same.
"What do you want?" Max finally asked once the door was shut behind them.
"Thought you forgot I was here."
"Sam," Max's voice was sharp, annoyed with herself for not hanging up in the first place.
"Guessing I already know the answer, but I'll ask for Nick's sake. You planning on coming out?"
"I could ask you the same question," Max pointed out. If one of their faces was ever exposed as transgenic, both of their covers would be blown.
"I'm not that stupid, I don't know about you."
"Don't worry your secret's safe with me," Max replied mockingly. "Anything else lil' sis?"
"Don't fuck this up Max, it's more than just our lives at stake," Sam dropped the phone back into its cradle before walking over to Nick with annoyed eyes. "Anything else your majesty?"
"I'm assuming that means we aren't going to be seeing her on the tv anytime soon picketing the White House for equal rights?"
"She decided to join the Mommy Brigade as well it seems," she said popping down her head for a quick check on their daughter. "If she has any common sense we're in the clear."
"You don't think-" Nick began as she walked around to the driver's side.
"She seemed pretty infatuated with the guy, I'm guessing that goes for the kid as well…Now," she said looking over the roof of the car, "does this mean we can never mention her name again or Seattle or anything Manticore related?" It had taken them a long while to start to heal the hurt and start to get back to where they'd been before that freak had screwed with their lives and blown her secret. Sure honesty was nice and all, but she just wanted things back to how they had been, with one clear addition, now snoozing in the back.
"You're in the clear unless Janie starts walking at 6 months," he smiled before opening his door.
:End Flashback:
Max wondered about her twin for a moment, wondered about her son, her husband, what she had chosen to do with her new life in Canada. Another career in the paper pushing field? She'd been under for awhile, maybe she had grown used to the inactivity that would drive most transgenics insane.
She pushed aside that though, no point wondering. Thinking about her twin's life when she had her own right here in this very house. She shook her head and pushed away from the door frame. She caught sight of the attic door and stared for a moment…
:Flashback:
The sky outside was finally dark, the last lingering bits of light had finally faded settling the street into a quiet peace as everyone once more retreated indoors. Max and Logan were as they normally were once this stage of the night had hit, acting like newlyweds. The tv was turned on to muffle out any noises that might find their way to Cale's room and Logan had been relegated to the bottom of their pile on the couch as Max slowly seduced and ravaged her husband, taking advantage of the time afforded to them by a growing child's need for sleep or maybe in Cale's case it was his ability to sleep, rather than need.
"I'm pretty sure this is considered spousal abuse," he groaned as Max's hand caught his wandering ones and held them prisoner above his head.
"I'd like to see the jury that would find me guilty of that," she smugly smiled.
He groaned and his hips bucked up a little as she refused to release his heads, "Cruel and unusual punishment."
"Your wife making love to you?" she asked sweetly.
"My naked wife holding me prisoner, refusing to allow me to move, yes."
She smiled again and contorted herself downward to nibble, bite and kiss what she pleased.
"I show them that picture from the cabin and they'll understand."
Her head rolled upward for that and she looked at him with un-amused eyes, "No one ever sees that picture," she said referring to the picture he'd taken of her stretched out in front of fire looking up at him with sleepy eyes and a pleased smile in all her glory.
"So would now be a bad time to tell you that's what we sit around and stare at when you have a girl's night out?"
She looked at him with annoyed eyes.
"That and the video of course," he said with a smirk.
"Really think pissing me off is going to help your situation any?" she asked with a smile. "I can keep you like this for awhile."
He looked up with a cocky grin, "I don't think so sweetheart, contrary to popular opinion you're still only human."
She let out a thoughtful murmur.
"So do I get to move yet?" he asked hopefully.
She looked up and pretended to think about it, "Hmmm," she smiled, "nope."
"Figures," he chuckled and let his head fall back a bit. He looked back up with teasing eyes, "I assume you'll let me know when I can?"
"Will do," she smiled and went back to her previous activities of playing his body like a harmonica. Slightly different pressures…locations…all eliciting different sounds from her spouse, her favorite toy ever.
His cell started vibrating on the end table a few minutes later as Logan was biting back the urge to start to beg.
She let out a grunt of displeasure as Logan's eyes rolled back, as if he could see through his skull and the table to the number displayed on his phone. "It's Matt," she said popping up to look.
"I should probably get that," he said trying to move, forgetting how limited his movements were.
"We have a seriously limited amount of play time and you're going to get that smack dab in the middle?"
"Should have let me move," he said with a smirk.
She pouted.
"Matt doesn't generally call unless it's important," he reminded her.
"We're going back to this," she informed as grabbed his phone with her free hand and laughed at him as he eagerly smiled upwards. She let his hands go free as she gave him the phone.
"Hey Matt," Logan said with a smile on his lips as a free hand trailed along his wife's leg as she now reclined back on him waiting. The Eyes Only game had gotten a tad more relaxed in the passing years, slightly less cloak and dagger than it had been. Payphones skipped, scrambled cells now, no numbers stored anywhere aside from their heads, memories erased the moment the call ended.
"Uh," a feminine voice on the other end let out.
He frowned and his hand stopped and tapped Max as he moved to sit up. "Who is this?"
She let out a shaky breath, "Mr. Cale?"
He remained silent.
"Uh…" she took an attempt at a deep breath, "I'm Matt's wife, Marisol."
"What happened?" he asked in a low voice.
"Matt told me to call you if anything ever happened…"
Logan waited for her to continue as Max looked on with worried eyes before moving to grab their clothing.
"Matt was shot they….they don't think he's going to make it."
He accepted the shorts Max held out, "Where is he?"
"Metro," she swallowed hard, "he's in surgery now, but…"
"I'll be there as fast as I can," he promised.
Max waited for Logan to speak as he continued to look dazed. "I have to go, Matt's been shot."
"Do you want me to-"
He shook his head, "Stay with Cale," he kissed her quickly before he went to slide his feet into a pair of sandals nearby. "I'll call you when I know anything."
She nodded.
-o-o-o-
Long hours passed as she silently stalked their house waiting for any word. She wondered what he was going through, if he was reliving his shooting, hers…Any of the other numerous ones they'd been forced to endure.
"I forgot to call," he said walking up the steps as she awaited him on the porch, the sun just starting to rise.
"It's okay," she slowly nodded as she waited for him to come to her.
"He's dead," Logan stopped and nodded a few feet away.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Me too," he nodded again. "Matt was off duty, they went out for a late dinner. Some kids were roughing up an old man, Matt went to help…"
"How's the guy?"
"He'll be fine, a couple of cracked ribs, but he'll live."
"That's good."
Logan nodded.
"Breakfast or a hug?" she asked as he continued to stand a few feet away, the distance in their minds though thousands.
He gave a short smile, "I'll take them both," he said taking a step forward.
"Hug first?" she questioned with a half scrunched up face.
He smiled gently as he nodded and they moved into each others arms.
-o-o-o-
"Matt's son is a teenager now," Logan supplied as he scrambled the eggs on the stove.
"That's the thing about kids, they keep growing up, while I remain my youthful 18," she smiled.
He smirked. "Yet you repeatedly round me up to 40."
She smiled and smirked, "What can I say, some of us are aging with a little more grace than others."
He shook his head with a raised brow.
-o-o-o-
"It took us so long to get here," he said sitting beside her on their front steps as Cale rode his bike up and down the sidewalk with a friend. Managing only a few hours of sleep after she'd finally sent him upstairs mid-morning.
"We're here now though," she said with a tender smile looking at him.
"I don't want to take this for granted."
"You aren't. Matt was just in the wrong place at the wrong time…Been there before myself," she reminded.
"Don't remind me."
"I called Zen"
She continued looking at him.
"I want this stuff out of our house, if we can't come up with a good solution then I'm shutting it down."
She didn't fight him as she once might have, she turned back to watch Cale zooming past her, he'd never needed the training wheels, within a half hour of Logan and her teaching him he'd been doing it on his own. He was strong, quick, clever, but he was just a little boy. An innocent, defenseless against adults, especially adults with guns boy. "If you're looking for a fight you've come to the wrong person." There were days when she just wanted to lock the door and keep both of her men inside with her, safe forever.
"I'm not," he shook his head, "I should have done this awhile ago."
:End Flashback:
That room upstairs was bare now. The door taken off its hinges and replaced with a sheet hanging up on a bar attached by shower curtain rings. A boy's secret clubhouse, complete with toy soldiers, periscopes, water balloons for grenades and every other secret clubhouse paraphernalia her son and his friends could gather and a large stash of leggos she couldn't exactly figure out how they fit in.
The former contents of that room now housed at Terminal City where Mole liked being the one to spite the city officials.
Logan was nearly completely out of it by this point. His real life over taken the time he'd once had to devote to it. Others picked up his slack, his expertise becoming a thing of the past as others became acclimated to all the inner workings of the city.
She didn't feel guilty. They'd done their time, Logan had especially done his time. He'd given up just about everything for this city almost including his life on a few occasions. They'd passed the torch onto others and were trying on occasion to live the 'American dream' as best they could.
The reality of which still awaited her for this evening, hopefully Cale wouldn't be too hyped up from all the one-on-one time with his dad to put up much of a fight over his bath and bed.