A/N: This story is set after my story The Key...which is why Logan can walk. Other than that, you don't have to have read
that story to get this one. This isn't a sequel, don't assume that anything other than Logan gaining the ability to walk has occurred. I know where I'm going with this, but I honestly have no idea how I'm going to get there....so, I guess we'll all be surprised!
*I don't own Dark Angel...blah blah blah...*
Wild Is The Wind
"You need someone to hold you
Somebody to be there night and day
Someone to kiss your fears away
I just went on pretending
Too weak, to proud, too tough to say
I couldn't be the one
To make your dreams come true
That's why I had to run
Though I needed you..."
-Bon Jovi
Max frowned to herself as she swung open her medicine cabinet and retrieved a bottle of tryptophan. Her hand shook as she twisted the cap off and poured out three of the beige colored pills. Her heart racing, she tossed them toward the back of her mouth and swallowed. The three small objects slid dryly down her throat.
"Hey Max, you almost done in there?" Kendra called from the other side of the door. Max, feeling hot and frightened, slumped against the wall, allowing herself to slide down into a sitting position.
"Almost," she choked out.
"Okay...well, hurry up!" Kendra replied. Max was dimly aware of the sound of her friend's footsteps as she walked away from the bathroom door. Kendra was aware that Max had seizures, but Max couldn't bring herself to make her health problem a social event. So, she locked herself away during the seizures, claiming that they were extremely infrequent to her friends.
She clenched her jaw to keep from biting her tongue as the tremors suddenly hit her harder than normal. Her heart raced and she was ridiculously frightened of what was happening to her body. She wasn't the kind of woman who panicked easily, and there certainly wasn't anything she would admit to being afraid of. However, isolated in a small, run down bathroom only feet away from a friend, but unable and unwilling to call out, she felt terrified.
She fought against the heated jittery feeling that fear brought her as the tremors began to subside. She knew it wasn't the tryptophan causing the seizure to ebb, and braced herself for another. It took a while for the chemical to work its way through her system and raise her seratonin levels back to normal. She'd taken some earlier that morning, but it obviously hadn't helped as much as she'd hoped.
She heard Kendra humming in the other room. It was some song that Max didn't know. She closed her eyes for a moment and envisioned a woman, one with dark hair and eyes. She imagined this woman holding her, humming softly, her fingers lightly petting and soothing. Max had never had the benefit of a mother, never known true nurturing or love.
Maybe that's why I'm so screwed up now.
The shaking subsided enough for Max to pretend nothing was wrong. Fixing a plastic coated smile on her lips, she rose on un-nervingly weak legs and tossed open the bathroom door.
Kendra looked up from her coffee, her eyes seeking a connection with Max's. Max adverted her gaze, not wishing to share what was on her mind.
"It's all yours," she said over her shoulder.
"Thanks," Kendra replied distractedly and headed for the bathroom. She was a perceptive woman, but she knew better than to question Max's constantly vacillating mood. Max wasn't into discussing her problems, albeit she was all too often involved in other peoples' anymore.
Max pulled on a cap and was walking out the door when her beeper, which was sitting forgotten in her jacket pocket, alerted her to the fact that she had obligations. Cussing under her breath, she turned around and plucked it out of the jacket that was slung over her black ninja. She knew who it was, she just didn't know whether she was in the mood to see him or not.
Doesn't he realize some of us actually have jobs?
Sighing, she decided to pay him a visit during one of her runs to see what he wanted. Beeper in hand, she fought back the mild shaking that was once again effecting her body, and walked out the door.
She was somewhat unsteady as she rode her bike to
work. People milled about in front of her and she swerved between them
by pure rote. She could feel the almost imperceptible shuttering in the
muscles of her legs and arms. It was a strange sensation, being betrayed
by her own body. She couldn't help but think of it as being highly ironic
that she, a custom built fighting machine, could be done in so easily by
a completely seemingly benign chemical.
"Your late," Normal observed as she walked her bike
past him. He didn't even bother to look up at her, just knew with his irritatingly
apt sixth sense that an employee hadn't arrived on time. He tossed her
a package. "Maybe now that your finally here, you can do a little thing
people like me call work."
Ass.
"Sure thing," she replied sunnily. She spun on her heel, getting back on her bike. She trembled slightly, but the tryptophan was beginning to take effect.
Her beeper beeped angrily at her, demanding attention like a spoiled child. Whatever Logan wanted, it apparently was important. She resolved to go see as soon as she dropped off her package.
The air was unusually crisp for a spring morning. The dismal scent of the city and the poverty within it was starkly naked around her. She tried not to notice it, tried not to care. At one point, the plight of others hadn't bothered her. Since meeting Logan, it had come into focus and she couldn't blindly ignore it. She'd walked away from Zack for it, for him.
Zack.
She'd searched for him for so long, and finding him had been a heavy disappointment. He didn't see Max as his sister, as family. Max had clung to the idea that finding Zack would give her existence some kind of meaning. However, when she finally did find him -- or, rather when he found her -- all she'd found was a rigid commando. Zack lived his life like G.I. Joe, still allowed Manticore to taint his mind and blacken his heart.
Max had been just like him, she hadn't cared. Until she'd met Logan, he saw someone else within her. She still didn't see the same person he saw, in fact, she didn't think she could possibly live up to Logan's expectations. She'd wondered through many long nights if she'd been right to turn her back on Zack and walk back to Logan. Zack did care about her, albeit in an odd faltering way. At least he understood, he knew what she'd been through, was one of the only people in the world who could possibly claim to truly have empathy for her.
She turned a corner, coming to a stop in front of a large, shiny building. The windows on it were reflective, making them look impeccably clean from a distance. Package in hand, she strode confidently inside to make the delivery.
***
"Why isn't she here yet?" Zack demanded, his irritation rising. The muscles in his wide shoulders were bunched up tightly.
Logan could feel stress radiating from the other man. He couldn't deny the distaste he felt for Zack. He was, for lack of a better description, one of the biggest hard asses Logan had ever had the pleasure of meeting. He was often highly demanding, and downright rude.
"I'm sure she's on her way," Logan replied, unwilling to page Max a third time for him. He hadn't seen her as much during the past few weeks as he usually did. Now that he could walk, he was able to do more of his own footwork. He'd definitely gained back some of the confidence he had lost and was less willing to put Max in danger.
"I can't wait much longer," Zack replied. There was another kind of tension in him that Logan pained to think about. He liked Max, liked her in a way that made Logan violently jealous. He bitterly imagined the other man's tightly reined excitement at the prospect of seeing her again.
"She has a job, Zack," Logan reminded him, biting back a vicious comment. "She could have been in the middle of something when I paged her. She'll be here when she can."
"Yeah, whatever," Zack grumbled and flopped down onto Logan's couch. The first thing Logan had noticed when Zack showed up at his door was that, delightfully, he was taller than the other man. It was a small, sick victory, but one nonetheless. Zack had peered up at Logan, irritation flashing in his sharp eyes. Logan got the very distinct feeling that the other man wasn't nearly as delighted about his recovery as his shadowed congratulations had implied.
The doorbell rang, and Zack leapt up off the couch to look at it like a tiger positioned to pounce. He was, undoubtedly, more feral than Logan could ever hope to be. He found himself distantly wondering as he walked to the door -- walked to the door, that was a good feeling -- if his animalistic nature was something Max found attractive.
He swung the door open to met by a pair of very hostile, chocolate brown eyes.
"You know...I'm kind of busy today, Logan," she said tightly. "This had better be some kind of emergency."
Logan shrugged, for once being able to leave Max's anger to land on someone else. He'd faced the brunt of her temper many times, and he knew what it could do to a man's unguarded heart. For a moment, he pitied Zack. He immediately retracted his pity as the other man lunged toward Max, and her eyes lit.
"Zack! You're back!" she wrapped her arms around his neck. Logan fumed, but hid it with a light smile. After all, Max deserved to have someone like Zack in her life. She still considered him a brother, as far as Logan knew, and she desperately wanted to be able to connect with someone on that level. As much as Logan disliked Zack, he couldn't deny her.
"Max," Zack ground out her name as if she were plated in gold, diamonds, and platinum. It sent a hot pain through Logan's heart.
"Why are you back?" she asked as she pulled away, not even looking at Logan, who was trying his best not to curl into a ball and die.
"I want you to come with me," he announced. "Seattle
has become the focal point of Lydecker's activities. It's too dangerous
for you to stay here...but if you come with me, we could be safe."
Logan noted that Zack had said we. Zack was
a man who, had Logan not known what he'd been through, would have said
was deathly afraid of commitment. He never spoke in the plural sense. Previously
when he'd asked Max to leave Seattle, he'd been careful to point out that
they would not stay together. This time, he made no such indication.
Sentimentality may be phony, but he apparently believes whole-heartedly in his sex drive.
Logan was starting to feel overly bitter, and he made a discrete exit, leaving Max alone to field the suggestion. Having no particular task to keep him busy, he wandered into his office and sat down in front of his computer. Oddly, the machine was one of his most stead-fast companions. When he couldn't sleep, it was his computer that he poured his consciousness into. He used it as a tool to relieve every type of emotional difficulty, because it was the one thing he could really loose himself in. Within it was a world he had custom created, one of files and order. One which connected dimly to the real world, but provided a view of it with such complete emotionless that it was bearable.
He threw himself into his work: researching, hacking, saving. It helped sometimes to think of himself as the savior of hundreds of people. It was an identity he had come to embrace, but one that didn't hold up. After all, he was only human, and when Max was around he was an unusually charged human.
She turned him into a different man. He wanted nothing more than to push away all the things she had to fear -- if indeed she did fear anything -- and give her everything she desired from life. However, he couldn't do that. He couldn't even come close. Zack was better for her in the long run, he always would be. With Logan, she would always be in danger, would always be unhappy.
He turned in his chair when Max walked into the room. He could always tell when it was her, although he wasn't sure how. Whether he recognized her footsteps, her scent, or just had a sixth sense didn't really matter, the only thing that matter was that she was close.
"I've gotta blaze," she announced. "Mind Zack crashing here tonight?"
"No, Zack can stay as long as he wants," he replied sweetly, hoping to extract one of her smiles.
She smiled.
"Thanks, Logan. I'll drop by later on," she turned to leave, then paused. She looked back at him over her shoulder, her eyes flashing. "Sorry I yelled at you."
*to be continued*
