Title: Crusade

Author: Indigo Night

Feedback: Yes please

Summary: The sad thing was, maybe they were right; maybe his life wasn't worth anything.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel or the characters

Spoilers: Prodigy tag.

Pairing: None.

Warnings: Vague suicidal tendencies.

Author's Note: So, I literally just bought and started watching season 1 today, and I instantly fell in love with Logan. I got inspired and wrote this fic as I was watching Prodigy for the first time. Just some random angst, don't ask. Read, Review,

Enjoy!

The sad thing was, they were right, his life wasn't worth anything. What the hell was he thinking that he could make a difference with his petty crusade?

His useless legs wavered beneath him as they lifted him to the edge of the roof, the cold night air hit his face and he stared at the ground below. His heart was thumping with the adrenalin, the fear, but also… the relief. Relief that maybe he could finally stop fighting this stupid, pointless war, stop trying to validate his own pathetic life.

Then the arms holding him up were gone and he was falling. The air felt cool and he felt… weightless, it was incredible. And for a second, just a second, he let himself fall.

Then Max was there, leaping after him, and he wasn't really surprised. He held his hand out to her, because he knew if he didn't she'd just kill herself trying to save him anyway.

*8*

As he lay there on that motel bed, able to do nothing but sit and wait for the outcome of this whole mess, he couldn't help but feel a small rush of disappointment. He supposed he would just have to keep fighting, at least for a little while longer now.

*8*

But it wasn't until later, as he looked at the sleeping boy's face in the back of the car; peaceful, innocent, safe in his dreams from the horrors of the world he'd had the misfortune of being born into, that he remember why he was fighting.

So maybe he couldn't save the world, maybe his crusade was petty and he wasn't really making a difference. At least he was trying. And each tiny victory, like knowing that little boy was safe, was enough to keep him fighting.