Disclaimer: Dark Angel does not belong to me. Cameron/Eglee came up with it. Beat me to it. Darn.

Author's Note: Well, here's the next chapter. It was really, really hard to write. This was the reason I couldn't move forward with the story, but I knew that I had to get over this hump somehow, so I just pushed and barreled past it. I hope you guys like it. Thanks for all the support. I really, really, appreciate it.

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CHAPTER 7

Alec's eyes opened slowly, almost reluctantly. He took a deep breath, cool air filling his lungs. He glanced over towards the sleeping figure next to him and felt a twinge of regret. She was sleeping on her side, her back to him, cold space between them. It had been like that for a long time now.

Shaking away the last vestiges of sleep, he threw the covers off his body. The cool air immediately robbed his clothes of the lingering warmth of his sleep. He lifted his white shirt slightly and scratched his stomach absent-mindedly. He rubbed the cobwebs of sleep from his eyes as he padded quietly to the window. Leaning on the wall, he stared out and prepared to watch the sunrise.

Today, the skies were heavy, downcast. But there were feeble rays of sunlight that filtered through. The dark of night slowly faded to a murky, colorless gray.

Alec smirked. The day matched his mood already. Clouded and colorless. Confused. Downcast. Just like how he felt—how he had been feeling everyday since he found out that Max had left Terminal City.

When Joshua had brought the news to HQ four weeks ago, Alec had known without a doubt that Max had left a long time before he even told them. He had been making far too many excuses for her absence, until finally he just said that Max was not going to come back. At least not until she said she was "ready."

Alec had been furious. Of the hundreds of transgenics in Terminal City, none of them had even suspected that Max would leave them. Just like that. At first, there were murmurs of betrayal, whispers of how she was just an '09er doing what she did best. But then, one day, her voice had gone through the static of Dix's comms, and the murmurs and whispers quieted.

But Alec's fury had nothing to do with the fact that she was supposedly bailing on their cause. Terminal City was an accepted, established sector in the city of Seattle. There was little trouble from the outside after all the negotiations and laws that have been designed to protect them.

No, Alec was angry because she was bailing on him. She had left him. Without a second's thought, without a hint of a goodbye. Gone.

What did you expect? He asked himself ruthlessly. His face crumpled momentarily as he fought the mixture of emotions that warred inside of him. Anger, hurt, betrayal, pain, and loss roiled and raged inside. Because the truth was, he had still expected to be a part of her life. Even if it were just a little bit.

But she had left him. And he still needed her. "Max…" he whispered out to the sunrise, not knowing that his voice was filled with the pain and rage he felt inside.

"Alec?" Kyra's sleepy voice caused him to quickly smooth away the frown from his brow.

"Hey," he acknowledged quietly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

Kyra leaned up on one elbow, her long blond hair falling into a golden cascade onto her pillow. Her sleepy blue eyes regarded him with a resigned tenderness. "Are you coming back to bed?"

Her voice was filled with a tentative hope that it broke Alec's heart. He knew—had known for a long time—what had to be done. He bit the insides of his cheek, pursed his lips and carefully shook his head. "No." There. The decision had finally been made.

Kyra's beautiful blue eyes shuttered. She gave him a single nod, as if she understood only too well exactly what that single word meant. Without a word, she deliberately pushed the sheets away as she, too, got out of bed. Mechanically, she started pulling the sheets into some semblance of order, making the bed with cold efficiency.

"Kyra," he said, his voice was soft, almost apologetic. At that moment, he wished more than ever that he was the old Alec. The smart, cocky, bastard fresh out of Manticore. The one who didn't care much about what others felt and thought. At least that Alec had never felt this lump in his throat at the idea of hurting someone's feelings. That Alec had never thought twice about all the girls he had slept with. That Alec could have done this so much easier. "…Kyra, I'm so sorry…"

She straightened her shoulders and held up a palm to stop him. Her face was blank, but her eyes were openly wounded. "Just be honest with me, Alec," she demanded her voice hardening with each word she said as she built up a perimeter defense against him.

Alec shoved both his hands deep into the pockets of the sweatpants he had slept in last night. He glanced out the window. The world outside was brightening by the second, but the heavy clouds still obscured the sun.

"I can't explain," he started, his voice quiet and low. Strained, even to his own ears.

"Try." She demanded.

Alec almost smiled. It had been too long since he had seen the no-nonsense side of Kyra. He had almost missed it. She had become far too withdrawn and almost submissive the last few weeks a reaction to his coldness and distance in their 'relationship'. He knew without a doubt, she was far better off away from him.

He caught her eye and held it. "We fell into a routine, Kyra," he replied. He felt his palms start to sweat as his body reacted to the discomfort he was feeling about this conversation. He really was no good at this whole honesty and caring deal. But it was the least he could do for her.

She tilted her head to the side, arms crossed in front of her. She regarded him expectantly. She looked like a vision. Her long blond hair framed her delicately-boned face. Her chin was jutted forward defensively. Her body was completely covered by one of his white shirts, ending mid-thigh, leaving her long, shapely legs bare.

Not for the first time, Alec wondered why he couldn't just have fallen in love with her.

But the answer was painfully obvious. Because he was already in love with someone else.

"We just fell into a routine," he reiterated. "And I'm not…ready." That was a lie. Was it kinder to lie in this case?

She pursed her lips in skepticism. "Not ready? Or not willing?"

Alec ran a hand tiredly over his face, not really knowing how to answer her.

"Because guys don't just fall into a routine for months without at least believing that the routine could work," she insisted. "Right?"

He shrugged, not looking at her. He was struggling to find the words to explain how things had gotten so…misguided. How he had unintentionally mislead both of them into thinking that yeah, things could maybe work.

"We should have just left it at one night," she whispered, regret infusing her tone.

The sadness in her words caused him to look up at her, their eyes meeting. Alec felt a small twinge of pain in his heart for her. He did care about her. Enough that he couldn't stand the way her shields were crumbling. Her lower lip quivered valiantly, and she looked away from him, hiding her eyes from his scrutiny.

He strode over towards her and tentatively gathered her into his arms. "I'm sorry, Kyra," he whispered into her hair. "I never meant for things to…mislead…I thought I could—" he choked on the rest of his words. He had almost said, love you. "I thought I was ready." He amended quickly.

She shook her head. "You are ready, Alec. Just not with me, is it?"

He opened his mouth to lie again, but she placed a palm over his lips. "Don't lie. I may not be dealing with this relationship thing really well, but I'm still X5. I'll know."

Alec couldn't help but chuckle ruefully. He looked tenderly down at her. "You're right," he sighed.

"Who?"

"Does it matter?"

"Do you love her?"

Alec reared back slightly, caught off-guard by the directness of her question. But then again, this was Kyra—direct-approach, no-beating-around-the-bushes-Kyra. He should have expected it.

He released her from his embrace and dropped down to sit on the bed tiredly. Just the thought of Max and their affair, the aftermath of it, the pain that still lingered inside of him at the memory, and the fading hope that they could be something more, left him drained. "I don't know," he replied honestly. A vision of Max flashed in his mind. "But I know that I can't be with anyone else right now."

"You love her," she whispered, dropping heavily next to him. "You love her…like I love you."

Alec froze. "Kyra…" he rasped, feeling a sense of near-panic explode in his chest at her confession.

"Calm down, Alec," she reprimanded with a small, sad smile. "It's not like I'm asking you to love me back. You're already in love with someone else."

Alec released a slow, steadying breath. "It's just that…" he paused, dropping his head into his hands. "…I feel like the biggest idiot on this side of the planet. You don't deserve what I did—what I'm doing—to you."

"No, I really don't," she confirmed with a twisted grin. "But I'm…glad…that you decided to finally come clean. I think…I think it was worse not knowing."

"Sorry," he muttered in a strangled whisper.

"Better late than never, I guess."

He pulled her into a sideways hug, and she momentarily tucked her head into his shoulder in acceptance of the tiny piece of comfort he could give her. "This is it, isn't it?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he replied softly. "This is it." They stayed like that, lapsing into a thoughtful silence, considering what it meant to face the end of something.

Moments later, he released her slowly, and got up. "I'm gonna head over to HQ. I'll see you…" he broke off, realizing that here he was again, falling into routine.

"You won't," she smiled sadly. "At least not here…and not in this context."

Alec nodded. "Right."

He had nothing left to say. He gave her a small, apologetic, uncomfortable smile. He turned towards the shower, but she grabbed his hand before he could step away.

"It's Max, isn't it?"

Alec's heart doubled its pace at the mention of her name. He clenched his jaw, but nodded. He knew that lying about it would only exacerbate the wounds of their relationship. "Yeah…it's Max," he confirmed in a quiet, steady voice. "It's always been Max."

Kyra nodded in acceptance.

"How…?"

"Just a feeling," she replied. "Women's intuition. Plus the fact that she was the only one you ever spent a great deal of time with before…" she paused, and simply gestured to the two of them. There was no more 'us' for them. She would never tell him that she had heard his agonized whisper of her name just moments before.

Alec felt a brief pang of sadness wash over him. She just smiled sadly, gave his hand a short squeeze and released it.

Without another word, Alec turned around to walk into the shower knowing full-well that when he got out, she would be gone. Every trace of her would be erased from his apartment. It was sad to know that he would probably never notice if it made any difference at all.

They could have had something good. But he was still rooting for something even greater.

"Max," he whispered to himself as water splashed onto his bare chest. "I'm bringing you back home," he promised. He was going to reclaim his place in her life—he only wished he knew what that was.

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"Josh!" Alec called out as he walked into his friend's apartment. His voice was tinged with an old anger that refused to die down. He took a deep breath to control his temper, paint fumes assaulting his senses. After a moment, he followed the scent until he found Joshua.

The gigantic dog-man, peered from behind a canvas, a look of apprehension on his face. He didn't look surprised or shocked—which told Alec that Joshua had been expecting this confrontation. In fact, there was a bit of relief in his friend's eyes, as if he had been waiting for this for a while now.

"Where is she?" he demanded without preamble.

"Uh…don't know," replied the dog-man, scratching his head with the tip of his paintbrush. But his brilliant blue eyes shifted uncomfortably.

"C'mon, Josh…" he cajoled, switching tactics. "It's me, Medium Fella, you wouldn't hide anything from me, would ya?"

The dog-man whimpered slightly. "Big Fella can't tell."

"Hey, you can tell me anything," he asserted, stepping forward. "I promise I won't let her get mad at you," he joked. "She can get mad at me all she wants, but I'll tell her that I made you tell me."

Joshua shook his head briskly. "No, no, no…Little Fella go away for good reason."

Alec dropped his poor attempt at humor, and instead allowed his friend to see the genuine concern in his eyes. "What reason is that, Big Fella?"

Joshua ducked his head behind his canvas. "Little Fella made mistake," he mumbled, his voice coming out as a canine-like whimper. "Little Fella hurt inside."

Alec narrowed his eyes as he digested what those words could possibly mean. He walked carefully over to Joshua's side of the canvas and stared at the abstract painting in front of him. Everything was dark: blacks splattered over grays and browns. Blood-red and deep blues intermingled with the darkness offering a splash of color—but one that was still forbidding instead of hopeful. There was one small light spot in the very heart of the painting.

"What you got there?"

"Max."

An eyebrow quirked. "Right," he muttered. "Cuz I can really see her in it. I think I can see an ear."

Joshua snorted at him. "Darkness, confusion," he explained, his large hands following the giant strokes of dark paint. "Pain, sorrow," he continued, this time his fingers pointing to the little pieces of red and blue.

"Okay. And what's that?" asked Alec, pointing directly at the small orb of pale yellow and white.

"Hope." Joshua murmured. "Little Fella carry hope inside."

"Well…uh…that's good," said Alec. "Umm…great impasto strokes," he encouraged. Then with a mercurial switch of topic, he asked, "You said she was hurt inside…why is she hurt?"

Joshua shrugged, but didn't answer him. Instead, he reached down and dipped his brush in black, and applied a light stroke over the yellow. He did this with deliberation, so that only a hint of light came through the darkness.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" cried Alec. "Why'd you do that?" He watched as the tiny symbol of hope became more and more obscured by the murky dark paint.

"Little Fella can't find the hope yet," sighed Joshua.

Alec stared morosely at the painting. "Why not?" he asked, almost to himself. Just staring at Joshua's painting, Alec could almost swear that he felt Max's pain.

"Love hurt."

Alec bit his lower lip, contemplating the question that had swirled around inside of him for weeks. "Is it Logan?" he finally asked, a note of defeat in his voice. Why even bother asking? Of course, it was Logan. What had he done to her? He turned to the big guy next to him, and clapped him on the back. "Never mind, buddy, don't answer that," he muttered. "I'll see ya later, okay?"

"Okay." Joshua was looking at him intently, his bright blue eyes seeming to read inside Alec. "Alec, can you see the hope?"

He blinked at Joshua's strange question. His eyes slid over to the painting where only the barest hint of light came through. It felt like this morning, the dark clouds never once parting to let the sun through. His eyes returned to Joshua's waiting ones. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "Right now, I don't think so. Sorry, buddy."

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A/N2: Thanks for reading. We'll see where this goes next. At least now, Alec is going to look for Max and Kyra is out of the picture. Though, I kinda felt bad for her…I just couldn't make her be the bad guy. Nobody is the bad guy in this fic, I think. Everyone is just … lost.