AN: Here's my attempt at the reconciliation. I hope it's satisfactory to everyone. I probably should have broken it up into two shorter chapters, but I couldn't convince myself to, so you get a long one. Enjoy, and thanks for your great comments! They were helpful and cherished!

--

Although it was normal for Max to return home from bad experiences and lock herself in her office, it wasn't normal for her to do it while acting like a meek kitten. Nor was it normal for her to not even attempt to blame the failed mission on someone else. Or at least be angry. Or react in some way.

That was why everyone in Terminal City dropped what they were doing and stared openly at their leader when Joshua led her into her office, sat her down on her couch, and pushed her over so she was laying down. He whispered something that sounded like "Little fella rest" to those with super-charged hearing and then he walked back out, closing the door quietly and leaning against the wall. No one moved.

Eventually, they went back to their tasks, but something was niggling at them and they felt wrong. Guilt wasn't a common emotion for soldiers genetically engineered to be the perfect human weapons, but they felt it now. Perhaps they'd pushed her a little too hard. Granted, they were all still harboring some bitter feelings about the whole situation with Alec, but Max was still their leader and she was only doing her best.

Two hours later, when her door opened and she came out, they all looked up expectantly. Her jacket was in one hand and she looked like she was about to leave. They weren't sure if she was going to stay meek or start yelling at them, but they were ready for something. Her alert eyes took in everything around her, but it still came as a surprise to everyone – herself included – when she said simply, "I'm sorry."

After a moment of stunned silence, Mole said, "You leavin'?"

Max permitted a small smile. "I have to fix this," she said. "I've ruined it and I'm going to fix it."

"You don't know where Princess is," the lizard man insisted, immediately knowing what she was talking about. "You just gonna wander around?"

"I don't have a choice. I don't deserve anyone's forgiveness, but I have to try."

This was not the Max any of them had come to know, and for some reason, this apologetic and human side of her was endearing. She'd made some stupid mistakes – and really, how many of them hadn't? – and she was doing her best to fix them, starting with Alec himself. Probably more shocking than that, though, was what she said next.

"I know how you all feel about me right now," she went on, her voice slightly unsteady, "so if I can't convince him to come back, I won't come back, either."

"That's not necessary," Zalia interrupted, pushing her way through to the front of the gathering crowd. "We still need a leader."

"We're soldiers," Max replied. "Any one of us could do it."

"Not true," Dix said, his voice much softer than she'd heard it in a while. "Some of us take orders."

"You said we weren't soldiers anymore," a young X6 said.

At that moment, everyone started talking at once. Some were still condemning, some were begging her to stay, and some were discussing her statement about being soldiers. Joshua put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. When she looked up at him, he said, "Little fella need company?"

No," she answered too quickly. "I can't. I have to do this on my own."

He nodded, stepping back, and she gently pushed her way to where she'd left her precious Ninja. Her parting words were nothing inspiring or heroic. All she said was, "Don't wait up." With that, she was off.

--

"Ow!" Alec growled. "You're the worst nurse I've ever had . . . and considering our upbringing, that's saying something!"

Dalton rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time, taking a breath of patience. "Stop whining," he said.

"Whining? Those stupid familiars nearly pulverized me!"

"They did not. Stop being a baby. You're barely bleeding."

This wasn't completely true. Alec had actually been hurt pretty badly during his "alpha" show earlier. Dalton had dragged him home and started working on the many visible injuries, which included but were not limited to a large gash across his chest, a swollen shoulder, broken ribs, cuts and bruises all over his face, a vicious looking bite on his arm (and Dalton was pretty loathe to go near that, not wanting to know when it had happened), and a bleeding gash on his leg. And those were just the obvious ones.

The first of the alcohol Dalton poured liberally on the wounds brought Alec instantly out of the semi-conscious state he'd been in when he was bought back. His eyes cleared, his mind cleared, and pain filled his entire body. It was bad enough to take on ten familiars and a psychotic Manticore freak, but to have a well-meaning child wake you by dumping stinging alcohol over your open wounds was another thing altogether. Hence his undignified yelling.

Alec had no intention of putting up a facade to protect his dignity in this situation. Dalton had seen him shot and beaten up before, and the X5 couldn't muster the energy. Transgenic healing aside – he'd been kicked, shot, knifed, bitten, hit, and thrown so many times that day that he couldn't have walked away if he'd wanted to. As terrifying as the idea seemed, he was temporarily helpless.

Go get that girl that fixed me up before," Alec grumbled. "She wasn't so painful."

"You're worse than a girl," Dalton snarked back. "Get a grip."

"I thought you said you don't have a lot of medical skills."

Dalton looked over from where he was pulling a suturing needle and a knife out of the first aid kit that he'd taken from Terminal City when he was there before. "I don't."

"You probably shouldn't be stitching things in my skin, then," Alec said. "Give me the needle."

"You need help! I don't want to go back to TC and I don't know who else to ask! But I can't let you do it yourself."

"Trust me, I have a vested interest in this going well. I'll be careful."

Dalton was about to reply with a firm no when he heard a phone ringing and looked at his companion. Alec seemed just as surprised, but grabbed his jacket and the phone out of the pocket. "Yeah?" he said slowly.

"Alec?"

It was Max. He let out a breath, not sure if he was annoyed or relieved. He'd actually missed her, which was strange considering how sick of being yelled at he'd been. "Yeah?" he said again.

"Alec, I know you don't want to talk to me, and I don't deserve the chance to talk to you, but I want to beg for your forgiveness. Can you meet me somewhere?"

"Actually –" Alec began, fully ready to let her know how unwelcome she was, when Dalton jerked the phone out of his hands.

"Max?"

"Dalton?"

"We're in Sector 5," he announced, ignoring the look of disdain, horror, anger, and betrayal that washed over Alec's face. "I could use a little help doing some stitching, if you don't mind."

"She's probably worse than you are," Alec grumbled.

"I'm on my way. Is he okay?"

"Not really," Dalton said, eyes raking over his wounded companion.

"I'm still sitting here," Alec put in.

Dalton gave Max the details of their location and snapped the phone shut. "You mad?" he asked.

"You stupid?"

"Apparently."

"Then yeah, I am."

The X6 permitted a smile. "She just wants to help. Your heroic efforts earlier probably showed her the error of her ways and now she wants to make it better."

"So?"

"Aw, come on. Give her a chance."

Alec raised an eyebrow. "You taking her side now?"

"Of course not. But she said she wanted to beg for your forgiveness and I'd love to see her try."

Max felt tears. She didn't cry very often, but the idea that Dalton was allowing her to be in close proximity to Alec – to help him heal, actually – was a gift she didn't think she would ever be granted again. And gratitude had apparently made her emotional. She wasn't under control when she arrived at the specified location, and both Dalton and Alec noticed it immediately but said nothing.

Her eyes clouded over even more when she fully took in Alec's condition. He was lying on an old couch in a sparse but clean apartment, blood stains splattering his clothes and half of the floor nearby, bruises covering whatever wasn't covered in blood. He was pale and guarded.

"I'msosorry," she let out in a rush of breath, dropping to her knees at his side and unconsciously reaching for the stack of towels that Dalton had brought out so she could blot away blood. "I'm so sorry."

said nothing, his eyes riveted to hers. He didn't look over to see what she was doing but they both knew he was well aware of her actions.

"Please don't say anything. I have to get this out." She looked away, one hand over the oozing knife wound on his chest and one hand open to receive the prepared needle that Dalton was trying to hand her. In a rare show of reverence and maturity, Dalton quickly excused himself from the room and left. Max didn't know where he'd gone and was less concerned about it than she probably should have been. But all that mattered in her world at that moment was the wounded man who lay at her mercy.

"I was so wrong. So very, very wrong," she began, trying to be gentle as she pulled the curved needle through tender flesh. His muscles were tense under her hands but he didn't flinch or make a sound, eyes still on her face. "I guess I just decided you were easy to blame. I wanted to believe you were a horrible guy, that you were the reason I couldn't be with Logan and the reason things were going wrong. I wanted to believe that because I didn't want to think anything was my fault. But it was."

I wanted you to be a girl-crazy screw-up because it was easier that way. I wanted you to be the memory of everything I hated about Manticore. I wanted you to remind me of why I didn't deserve Ben and how wrong I'd been about him, too. I wanted to hate you." She continued to stare at the seeping skin, pulling the needle in and out as lightly as possible.

"At first, it wasn't hard. You made a lot of mistakes because you didn't know how to be someone on the outside. But once you figured things out, you made up for the dumb things you had done. You started doing things right and helping people and not messing up. You took my rants and raves and did what you had to do. You made TC run when I couldn't."

Tears were streaming down her face, but her voice remained surprisingly steady, as did her hands, tying off the last stitch and putting gauze over the wound, reaching for another piece of gauze for one of the larger cuts on his face. He still said nothing and didn't move.

"I lied to Logan about you being my boyfriend. At the time, I said it was because he believed it and it made things easier. But I know now that it was because deep down, I wanted it to be true. I knew I didn't deserve you and that you probably didn't want anything to do with me after how I'd treated you, but I still wanted it to be true." At this point, her voice hitched and she sobbed. She hadn't meant to say that. Oh well; might as well go all the way.

"Terminal City needs you to help lead, everyone needs you as a friend, we need you for unity, and I need you to be you. I promise to stop yelling at you and blaming you for everything. I promise to be nicer and to let you be in charge. Anything you want – I'll give it to you. Just –"

it was at this point that the weakened man on the bed made his first move. He grabbed Max's wrist where she was re-threading the needle to take care of the gash in his leg. This immediately got her attention, eyes locking on the hazel ones before her.

"You sure you're okay to do this?" he asked, his voice lower, raspier, and weaker than he expected. "You look like you're having trouble seeing, and I don't want anything accidently embroidered into my skin."

It was definitely hard to focus through the tears, but Max hadn't messed anything up yet. In fact, she was being more careful than she'd ever been in her entire life, and was about to back off when he winked at her. This could have been the beginnings of forgiveness, and she allowed a tentative smile.

"I wonder why Manticore didn't get rid of those pesky tear ducts," he went on, releasing her hand. "I would have thought those would be unwanted."

"Alec –"

"Stop apologising," he interrupted, letting his hand go across his eyes as he slumped back. "Just stop. It doesn't change anything you said. It doesn't change anything you did."

She felt the tears starting anew, and nodded, knowing he wasn't seeing the action. She deserved no less.

"You've probably apologised more to me in the last two minutes than you have in your entire life. I'm sure someone else needs them as much as I do."

That was a curious response from someone who didn't want to forgive her. She continued threading the needle and then used some scissors to cut away at his pants.

"And anyway, I feel awkward, having you throwing apologies at me while you're taking my clothes off." She looked up, hoping he hadn't seen the way his comment made her face flush. He hadn't moved. "Although I think, under other circumstances, it could be a lot more fun for both of us."

She stayed completely still, his wounds temporarily forgotten in favor of his words. When he pulled his arm away from his eyes, he saw her shock. "Max, it'll be a while. But I'm a pretty hearty guy. I stick by my people. I'll be back."

"You'll come back?"

He sighed as if in defeat. "Yeah, I'll come back. You guys have doctors, right? Being on my own has been a hazard to my health."

She now found herself concentrating very heavily on the wound she began stitching. It wasn't as bad as the one on his chest and would require fewer stitches.

"As for the other thing you mentioned," he went on slowly, "I think it's no secret that I've always been head over heels for you –"

She dropped the needle, not sure whether to be glad that it was already attached to his skin and that prevented it from going far, and quickly snatched it back up as though she'd meant to do it.

"– But I don't think I could ever just dive into a relationship like that. We're not even friends."

That stung, and the tears started again, but it was true. He was being honest with her, and that was more than she deserved. She could accept it. So focused on his wound was she that she almost jumped when she felt a cool hand on her cheek and soft lips plant a very chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Maybe one day we can be," he offered in a soft voice.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," she whispered as she started to sob again.

He pulled his head back but left his hand where I was. "And I didn't deserve your mercy. So now we're even." Alec took another deep breath and sagged back onto the couch, exhaustion claiming him now that most of his pain had dulled to a tolerable level. "You're not a bad person, Max," he got out.

She put one shaky hand up to her forehead, touching the spot where his lips had offered redemption to a lost soul.

"I hope you didn't give away my TV," he muttered as he drifted off to sleep.