A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! Glad I've caught your interest. Warning for some coarse language in this next part.

Chapter 2

"Treading water I keep from sinking,
[And] I'm not one for reaching."

- Jars of Clay, Sinking

"He just left!" Max shouted angrily as she paced back and forth in Logan's apartment. "And did he give me a reason? Hell no! He told me to 'save the world' myself, and then took off into the night as if none of it even mattered!"

In her anger, she slammed her hand down onto a nearby table and flipped the entire thing over. A lamp crashed to the floor and shattered, and several papers skittered through the air. Max bit the inside of her cheek and counted to ten, willing herself to calm down. Then she picked up the fallen debris, her hands shaking slightly.

"Sorry," She said shortly, turning to Logan with a regretful expression on her face. The apology was significant, meant to excuse both the broken lamp and the fact that Alec had ruined all of Logan's well-laid plans.

"Don't be," He replied, his eyes also relating a deeper message. Logan was a keen observer that way. She smiled, though it was gone faster than it had appeared. She still couldn't get over her fury.

"I can't believe he ruined everything. He should have at least known how to do this," Max slumped into a chair and breathed through her nose, her limbs itching for something to pound. "He knew what he was doing. He had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand. So why did he decide to just give up?"

Logan stared into space for a moment, apparently thinking, and said, "I really couldn't tell you—don't know enough about the guy." He paused again, and then added, "But I do know that we'll have to start over, which means we'll need a new plan. Preferably one that doesn't include Alec."

"I should never have trusted him to come through," Max said, shaking her head. "What was I thinking? I gave him a chance, and he does what he always does. He screws everything up."

"It was my fault for bringing him into this," Logan reminded her. "I could have said no when you offered the idea. Although, I assumed he could handle it. Didn't he say he went on solo missions?"

Max shrugged and continued to pace angrily. "Apparently. I wonder how the hell he managed to keep Manticore from eliminating his ass, the way he messes up."

"Had to be good at it at some point," Logan replied, and there was a dark thread in his tone. Both Max and Logan understood that undercover jobs often required one to eliminate the subject being observed. As usual, however, they both avoided the topic of Manticore and the things the institution made its soldiers do.

Max sighed and sat as close to him as she dared. "What now?"

Logan had already pulled out his cell phone. "Now we need to think of another way to get the bad guy. Oh, and Max?" Logan added as he dialed, and she looked at him questioningly. "That tux was a rental."

Max unceremoniously banged on Alec's door, just barely restraining herself from adding a bit more force and throwing her first through the thin wood.

After a few more noisy knocks and no reply, Max took to shouting. "Alec, get your lazy ass out here and open the door. Now!" She paused and waited for a response. She heard a slight shuffling sound, followed by a sharp intake of breath and muffled footsteps. "I can hear you in there! Open. The. Door!"

Finally, the lock tumbled and the door swung inward. A scathing reply rested on the edge of Max's tongue, but she stopped short in surprise when she took in his appearance. His usually laughing green eyes were dark and foreboding, his cheekbones stood out hollowly against his pale skin and his hair was severely rumpled, as if he had repeatedly run his hands through it. He looked about as hellish as someone with genetically perfected genes could look.

"What the hell happened to you?" She blurted, her expression morphing into a frown.

His eyes narrowed slightly, the only reaction to her question. He offered no explanation or reply, and she placed her hands on her hips and glared.

"You don't want to talk? Fine. I don't want to be here, anyway." He raised a mocking brow, wordlessly asking her why she was at his apartment if she didn't want to be. "I need the tuxedo you wore yesterday. You know, when you flaked and screwed up the whole job? Logan needs to return it."

"Fine," He said curtly, his voice echoing from deep in his throat. He turned, leaving the door ajar, and disappeared into the back room. She glanced around at his apartment, remembering how it had looked when Brain had lived in it.

Things were drastically different now. Clothes littered the floor, along with garbage and empty glasses of scotch. She grimaced in disgust, wondering how he could live in such a mess. He returned a moment later with the tux, which was wrinkled and dirty.

"Nice, you didn't even bother to keep it clean. Same goes for your apartment. Do you ever pick up after yourself?"

His eyes flashed dangerously and he slammed his fist into the wall two feet from her head. "Why don't you lay off, huh?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, hiding her surprise at his sudden burst of anger. "Fine. But I'm not the one who proved to be completely unreliable and selfish."

His eyes flashed again, and she thought she saw a shadow of an emotion buried beneath all the anger. "Just get out, alright? You got what you came for, so go."

"My pleasure," Max said, waving in a falsely cheery way and then walking out the door. He slammed it behind her and she made her way out of the apartment complex.

Alec took another swallow of scotch, his eyes focused blankly on the wall in front of him as the liquid lit a burning path down his throat.

Berrisford.

His muscles tensed as the name whispered through his mind like a curse. His hands contracted tightly, and he jerked in surprise when his glass shattered under the pressure and sent jagged shards through this palm. Rather than moving, he clenched his hand into a fist and absorbed the pain. He deserved it.

Rachel.

This time it was more like a sigh dancing through his mind, and it was accompanied by an echo of long-forgotten laughter. Her laughter.

He'd let them kill her. And then he'd let them take his memory of her away.

He slowly uncurled his fist and reached into his pocket, extracting a small locket with intricate designs and a thin gold chain. Alec had never understood where it had come from. He had found it one day, buried underneath his mattress at Manticore. His first instinct had been to trade it with the guards for something more enjoyable, but he had never been able to hock the thing.

Now he remembered. All it had taken was a brief glance at her father, and Alec's memories had forcefully returned to him. He had taken the locket from her, and he had hidden it away from Manticore the night before they had thrown him into Psy Ops for Reindoctrination.

He stood up and began to pace, ignoring the small droplets of blood that fell from his hand. The guilt overrode him completely, squeezing his throat like a fist. He gasped and halted dead, closing his eyes to force the emotion away. It was usually easy to do; he had never had a problem burying the regret and anger and sadness before. Manticore had taught him well.

The blissful numbness only lasted for a brief second though, and then her face flashed through his mind again. The guilt came crashing back in, bringing along with it the agony of bone-deep regret. He felt as if every cell in his body was screaming for some kind of resolution, but he had no way to provide it.

He had never felt like this before—never even been close. The only time he'd experienced anything remotely like this had been when he'd almost killed Max. But he hadn't hurt her, and now all that rested on his shoulders from that instance was the loss of the Cure. This was different. Rachel was dead because of him.

"Fuck," He cursed, the word barely more than a cracked whisper. Her buried his head in his hands, and then flinched when the glass from his palm bit into his face. His head shot up and he was striding before the door before he'd even realized he'd made a decision.

He just knew he had to get out of here. Now.