---

Dedication: For Pooh_Bah and her patience.

*****

San Bernardino - New Year's Day, 2025

*****

"Leave me alone!"

"Stop! Don't you want to know, to get some peace of mind? God, talk to me . . . please."

"Talk? You think that talking will make everything goddamn better again?"

"It'd be better than what we have now."

"And what do we have?"

"I don't know."

"Goodbye, Max."

*****

Seattle - January 1, 2024

*****

He came back.

After everything that has happened, he came back.

And it was just playing with her mind, driving it further into an abyss of confusion. No, confusion didn't even do it justice. It was a gut-wrenching, head-banging, fist-slamming feeling that left her exhausted. Maybe she wanted that pain; that uneasiness in her stomach that made her want to hurl every time she thought about it. Maybe dwelling on the pain would just prevent the inevitable from coming. The remorse, the sadness.

Zack.

How could she do it? It was all her stupid fault. She caused it; she kept it up, even though it was painfully obvious that he didn't want to. He really didn't want to, but she still persisted, begged, and pleaded.

And that caused everything to get screwed up, to the point where it no longer resembled what it originally was. What was wrong with her?

It happened just two months ago.

He came back to her, a bit battered and bruised, but he had never looked so good to her. It was unsafe, but he still came back for her. Because she needed him, she needed his support. She shouldn't have called him, she knew it then, and she knew it now.

He was her knight in shining armor . . . and she ruined everything.

She remembered the entire scene vividly, almost too vividly. Every time stray thoughts of it invaded her mind, she wanted to scream and cry. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Every detail of that night, every minuscule element was recalled with perfect crystal clear clarity.

*****

There he was, standing and panting lightly, almost like he ran all the way to get to her. He probably did. His eyes were unwavering, just staring at her. So concerned that she almost felt the need to shield herself away from his penetrating gaze. She had needed him so much, and he was there. "Za-Zack. . . ." The soft sobs threatened to overcome her again. He had gone through hell to get there, and all because she asked him to.

He stood there, with an unidentifiable expression in his gray eyes. If she didn't know any better, she would say that they were almost pity-like. He pitied her, felt sorry for her. It tore at her gut to know that. Anything but that. She just couldn't take it. She already had to live with her own guilt--but his pity too?

Wordlessly, he crossed the threshold and enveloped her into his arms. For a moment, she felt safe, as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. He was there and that was all that mattered. He was so strong and she knew that he would protect her, just like he always had. "It's going to be okay." The words were whispered softly, murmured even, and they just broke her down. She wasn't going to be okay, not ever. Logan was dead.

Her legs failed her, and she felt herself start to sink to the floor when he tightened his embrace and held the both of them up. The tears fell, unbidden. They just came, for the first time. She had never been able to cry, not once before. But it became all so real. They blurred her eyes. They stung. They choked her, and she didn't know if she would be able to breath again. Logan was dead, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

"Shh . . . Max, I'm here."

But he wasn't Logan, and there was nothing that was going to bring him back. She held onto him tighter, releasing all of the pent up tension in her tears. Zack held her close, wishing his goddamned hardest that she didn't have to deal with this, that she didn't have to hurt so much. He lovingly stroked her back and carefully supported her body. She was so fragile at the moment, so unlike his Max. "It's okay. . . ."

No! It was never going to be okay again. Not ever. How can it ever be 'okay' again? It just wasn't possible to just go on and pretend that it was 'okay'. Okay that he wasn't there with her, okay that he was gone.

"It wasn't your fault."

God, but it was. She wasn't strong enough. She wasn't fast enough. She could've saved him, if she had tried harder. It was her goddamned fault that Logan died. Her fault.

"It's okay. . . ."

And what right did she have to mourn for Logan? She killed him. She may have not been the one who held that gun to his head, but she didn't stop it either. Should've tried harder. Could've saved him. But she didn't.

"It's going to be all right . . . I'll make sure of that."

"Zack. . . ." She sounded so weak. So quiet and frail. Just as well, she brought it on herself. She killed him.

"Yeah, Max?" So quiet. So gentle.

She froze, fighting to get her bearings, fighting the onslaught of tears. It still hurt, so much. It hurt as if it would never stop. "He's really gone." As if she didn't know that.

"I know. . . ."

"I know it's been two years since it happened, but I miss him . . . God, I miss him." Logan, he had been her steady support. She could remember every wonderful detail about him. As a stray salty tear fell down her cheek, she held onto Zack tighter. She wanted Logan back, so much.

"I know you do."

"I-I-I . . . just wished that I could've gotten there sooner."

"It's not your fault."

Her body shook as clutched at his shoulder. He was wrong. It was.

"Max, listen to me." He gently raised her chin up so that she could look directly into his eyes. What she saw there was pity. She couldn't take it. How could she deal with Zack feeling sorry for her when she didn't deserve it? She didn't deserve his sympathy. "It's not your fault. Believe that."

Her face scrunched up and her eyes quickly welled up. "But it is."

"No it's not."

"You weren't there, you didn't see him . . . when . . . when. . . ." She couldn't say it. It was a sharp pain in her head every time she thought about that sickly picture. That explosive shot. Logan's clear blue eyes glazing over, lifeless, as he slowly slumped to the ground. Dead. She had seen the whole thing.

"He wouldn't want you to feel this way. He loved you Max, and I know that you loved him--"

"I *love* him."

He nodded and continued, "He would want you to move on with your life, not just waste away like this." He gestured around the sparsely furnished room. Max had moved out from her old place, not being able to bear being around anything that reminded her of him. She isolated herself, withdrawing, barely ever seeing her old friends anymore.

Max broke down again. Wanting her tears to wash away the memories, but not quite succeeding. "I'm sorry."

Zack held onto her frail form tighter, shaking his head into her hair. "For what?"

"For dragging you out here . . . I'm sorry, it's just that this day just gets to me. . . ."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm sorry."

"It'll be okay."

Just when she thought she couldn't cry anymore, her eyes welled up and the pressure threatened to clamp down on her chest again. "It will never be okay."

"You know . . . you may not see it now, but things will get better."

"No." She meekly shook her head against his chest. It wasn't true. Two goddamn years have already gone by and it still felt the same, every single damn day.

"It will."

"No!" She shook more violently.

"Max. . . ."

"Stop!" She hastily pulled out of his warm embrace and struggled to stand on her own. He was wrong. It would never be all right again. "Stop saying that!"

There she stood, a semblance of her old fiery self, returning as she stubbornly shook her head and cursed at him. But as fast as the toughness surfaced, it disappeared just as fast. She lost the strength to hold up herself and just sank down to the floor. "He's gone, forever." And she just broke down again and cried.

Zack couldn't bear to see her like that. So full of grief. He would do anything to take it away. Anything. He quickly crossed the room and dropped onto the floor, next to her. Smoothing back a stray lock, his fingers brushed up against her cheek softly. He wanted so badly to reassure her that everything would be better. "Max. . . ."

"Don't say it."

He pulled her against him, stroking her hair. "I won't."

The sat there, neither of them knew for how long. He just supported her and listened carefully as her sobs subsided. Logan's death really took the life out of her. She used to be so vibrant and full of energy. Now, she was just empty, dull, sad, and it killed him to see her like that.

He felt her arms hesitantly encircle him, returning his embrace. Slowly, but surely, her lips somehow planted themselves on his cheek. He felt her hot tears and wondered if she was thinking of Logan. She probably was. As her lips made their way towards his mouth, an alarm went off in his head. Panic and a protest started to worm their way onto his lips. What the hell was she thinking? He couldn't get a grasp on reality. One moment she was crying in his arms, the next, she was kissing him. This wasn't supposed to happen.

"Max," he pulled her away, gently but firmly. "You don't know what you're doing."

She simply looked at him tearfully, and moved closer, kissing him softly on the lips. "I need this." Her fingers snaked themselves in his hair and she yanked him closer, opening her mouth. She tasted salty . . . from her tears. "I need you, Zack."

He never thought that he would ever hear her utter those words. But it was the wrong time. He had accepted the fact that she loved Logan a long time ago; he just stood by her said and remained her rock, letting her lean on him whenever she needed to. But now . . . it was all about to get changed, unless he stopped it.

It was wrong. She wanted Logan, not him. All the times that he had fantasized about how she might, somehow return his feelings, he never actually thought that it would ever happen. Now, when faced with the prospect of it, he couldn't do it. Because it wasn't him that she wanted. "Max," he pulled her back once again. "It's not that I don't want to, but . . . you're not thinking about me, you're thinking about him."

She didn't deny it. "I need you, Zack." Her voice was husky, perhaps from her recent breakdown, or perhaps it was for him.

"Max, you don't know what you need."

"Yes I do . . . you." She kissed him again, hard.

"Stop," he weakly protested, but couldn't find the strength to physically move her away.

"No."

He felt every one of his barriers being broken down. She was what he wanted, if only she could want him back. "Max, you are going to regret it."

"You don't know that."

But in some dark crevice of him mind, he already knew that they would both regret it, that it was already too late.

Her nimble fingers grasped his shirt and roughly pulled the material off of him. "Just this one night. I need something to make me forget . . . please, Zack." She was vaguely aware of how pathetic she sounded, but made no effort to stop her hands for pulling at his belt.

As her hands made their way to his pants, he knew that he couldn't resist, that he couldn't ever deny her anything. He couldn't say no to her. He loved her.

*****

He came for her.

And what did she do? She fucked him.

The morning after, he was gone. The warmth he provided was gone. Her head hurt from all the sobs, her heart was broken even more than she thought possible. How could she have done that? The self-hatred she felt for herself already was amplified a million times over. Zack only did what she wanted. She was so stupid. And now, not only has she lost Logan; she had lost her brother too.

She didn't expect to ever see him again for a good long while. It was all her fault and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. What plagued her most was the fact that the whole thing could've been prevented if she wasn't so weak.

Logan was dead.

Zack left her.

All because she was pathetic . . . weak. At first, she entertained the hope that, perhaps, Zack would suddenly come back and everything would be fine. Just like it was before. They would forget the past, and they would move on . . . together. But, as the days flew back, she gradually lost all hope of any contact with him. The reality of the situation had hit her hard.

She was alone.

Loneliness wasn't a new sensation for her. Max had felt it all too many times. But true solitude . . . only twice. This time was worse. It gnawed and tore at her insides. She could drop dead, and no one in the world would know, nor would they care. Before, she never experienced security of unconditional support. She was too young and that very idea wouldn't have even been fathomable. She could be by herself, and never feel the torture of wanting more.

But then Logan, that bastard, had to make her dependant on him, make her need him. And then he left. He left! She would've died then and there without Zack's strong support. The endless nights that he sat up with her, just because she didn't want to be alone. His sweet insistence . . . 'I don't need sleep.' They didn't have to say anything to each other, because he understood.

And she made him leave! She caused the crumble of their once unbreakable bond. He would've never denied her anything, and what did she do? She drove him away.

He was gone, and she couldn't blame him. Why would he stay with someone who selfishly ruined a lifetime of familiarity and closeness? All because of one goddamned night of loneliness.

*****

Las Vegas - March 2024

*****

The sparkling lights of the city flickered, illuminating cold dark night. Even though the Nevada sun had set hours ago, its heat still penetrated the thick brick walls into the air-conditioned room. The hot air stuck to his sweaty back, seeped into his skin, and the dust caused him to cough a few times. He hated this city. The small broken windowsill buckled against the heavy weight of his arm. He noticed, but didn't bother to move it.

"For Pete's sake, Zack, I didn't turn on the fan just so you could open the goddamned window for all the air to get out." The voice was blunt.

Zack glared up at his brother, but didn't say anything. "I didn't ask for you to turned it on."

"Charlie likes it." Zane was referring to the sleeping dog on his bed. He hastily shoved Zack out of the way--something that he wouldn't have dared, had Zack been in his right frame of mind, and slammed the window shut, "What's the matter with you? Electricity ain't free."

Finding no argument, Zack just continued stared him.

Disgusted and not the least bit sorry for the man on the floor, Zane shoved a brown bottle into Zack's hand. "Maybe this will loosen you up." He took a long swig out of his own bottle.

He hadn't been overly surprised when Zack showed up at his doorstep, although he hadn't made a visit in five months. The last time was when he was living in Wichita. What did surprise him was that--for a week and a half--Zack made no order for him to haul his ass outta town. It would've been the umpteenth time. Maybe Zack was finally beginning to get over his obsessive paranoia, or maybe he was just PMSing. Either way, ever since he stood on Zane's doorstep, bulldog demeanor and all, barely a word was uttered. Zane was getting fed up with it. Zack hadn't moved from his position on the floor, and it didn't look like he was planning to move for a while. He popped open the top of the bottle with his knuckles and too a liberal gulp. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

"I could ask you the same question, Zack." If Zane was surprised at Zack's sudden speech, he didn't show it.

"This stuff will get you killed." Zack held up the bottle to indicate what he was talking about. "I leave you alone for a few months and you open up a goddamned liquor store."

"It's this stupid economy," he defended himself. "With that new gas levy, not many people are keeping their cars because of the lousy ten gallons per week limit. Hell, they had my customers giving me coupons. I gotta pay the bills somehow, and there's no shortage of alcohol in this town. It's legal this time." Zack looked skeptical, but chose to keep his mouth shut. "And look on the bright side, 'least I'm not dealing crack. Now think of what would happen if Krit came to visit again." It was a bad joke, but Zane laughed anyways. Zack didn't. Zane discovered long ago that he had a knack for salesmanship and quickly roped Krit into one of his schemes, which was quite a feat in itself since Krit was scared shitless of Zack. Krit got the booze real cheap from a guy he knew and Zane put it on the market. Despite the fact that the economy was stuck knee-deep in a pile of its own waste, there were still laws against selling without a license. After one drunken night spent in jail, a very pissed off Zack got them out, erased any trace of their run-in with the police, and hauled a sorry-assed Krit all the way up to Canada.

"You two are dumb enough by yourselves, but you verge on the edge of brainless when together."

"And don't you worry, bro. It won't be too long before one of us does something to keep you on your toes. I mean, wouldn't life be just dull-as-a-stick without us?"

Zack just grunted.

"Say, how long are you planning on staying? A whole stinkin' year?"

"Why? You want me to leave or something?"

Zane grinned his patented well-since-you-asked-grin. "Well yeah, man. You're cramping my style. You know how long it's been since I had a decent lay? And believe me, it's not like I haven't had opportunities, but it's hard to get into it when I know that you're gonna be the first face I see when I get home."

Zack managed to look both confused and annoyed. "What's your point? You were trained to go without a food supply for weeks, months even, and you can't even go through a few blasted days of celibacy? I should've known better than to stick you in this hellhole--"

Zane hastily jumped in, knowing fully where he was heading with that comment. "Now wait a minute there, Zack. Vegas is a great place for me. Five whole months without trouble, now that's gotta make you proud." Zack's eyes narrowed, conveying just how 'proud' he was. "And it's not like I can't control myself, I just choose not to sometimes."

His eyes narrowed. "That's exactly it, you are getting too relaxed. When are you going to realize that sitting around playing Clark Kent isn't safe? If you're not careful, it's going to haul your ass off to the nearest government base, compromising--"

He sighed. "What do you have to be like that, Zack? Just for once, try to look at it from my perspective." His brother, Zack, was the type to not be overly influenced by emotions. If Zane were feeling particularly lovesick, Zack would sneer at him. If he were nursing a broken femur, Zack would shove him out the door, heedless of the broken limb, and relocate him an area that wouldn't give him the opportunity to break any bones.

"Your perspective? I let you have that dog, didn't I?"

"And Charlie and I are grateful for that."

Despite all the talk about Zane's new job, Zack had no problem drinking his merchandise. He looked around at Zane's ratty old furniture. Amazing how a man can live in such a shithole and like it. "I'm leaving tomorrow," he announced.

Zane beamed. "Great! You know that I . . . er . . . love having you, but it's about time." He knew that he wasn't subtle, that was his intent. Zack didn't understand subtlety.

"And so are you."

Zane's smile vanished. "Dammit, Zack. I'm not going."

"This is not open for discussion."

"Well you're going to have to bodily drag me outta here, 'cause I sure as hell ain't going to leave." He crossed his arms, hoping that he looked menacing enough because he knew that if push eventually came to shove, Zack would kick his ass out of there so fast that he wouldn't know what time zone he was in.

"You've been out of shape for years. You think you can over-power me?"

He smiled a cheeky grin. "I've been brushing up on my defense tactics. You know, get the other guy so wasted that he couldn't stand on his own two feet, and then I merely hit him with a stick while he's paying homage to the porcelain gods."

"You think that's funny?"

"No, of course not," he said, amazingly straight-faced. A smile cracked several moments later.

"Don't think you can distract me."

Zane snapped his fingers. "Damn! And I was so close too."

Zack didn't say anything.

All humor fled the room as Zane dejectedly sunk down on the bed, next to Charlie. "You know, you're a dirty bastard, Zack."

"Why do you always do this? I'm only helping you." His eyes remained emotionless and cold, because if he flinched, Zack knew that the scales would immediately tip in Zane's favor. He always had a weak spot whenever one of them tried to make him feel especially guilty for supposedly ruining their lives.

"Helping me? I don't need your help anymore. It was fine and dandy when I was thirteen and on the streets. I needed my big brother then."

The remark had stung. He didn't need him anymore. "And what am I now? Some jerk that you can just called on a whim whenever you screw up?"

"Shit. You're not that, and you know it." Zane closed his eyes. "Why are you punishing me?"

"I'm not. I'm protecting you."

"From what? Lydecker's dead, you told me yourself. Max killed him." Zane didn't know much of the details, just that Max got pissed and snapped Lydecker's neck. After nearly a year of prodding Zack for details, he had given up and accepted the fact that Zack was intent on being an ass. None of the others knew either, and he couldn't very well ask Max, because . . . well, he didn't know where she was.

Lydecker was killed in Seattle, that much he knew. But knowing Zack the way that he did, he was positive that he dragged Max outta there before Lydecker's body was cold, so there was no way she was anywhere near Washington.

"The necessity to stay on the move is gone. Lydecker was the predominant threat. Well, he's gone now."

Zack squared his jaw and fleetingly wondered how he had let Zane get this far in the argument. Maybe Zane was getting more persistant . . . or maybe he was getting soft. "So you think that the threat is gone?" he hissed. "You think that the government is going to let a big-budget project go down the toilet because one man bit the dust?"

"Of course not."

"Then what?"

"Don't you want to be normal, Zack? To have a normal life, with picnics and cookies? I want that. I'd rather have it even for just a little while and I don't want to spend my whole life running away from something that might not be all that threatening."

Zack threw him a sharp look. "And what if it is."

"C'est la vie." He paused for a bit, mulling over his next words, "Listen, bro, I ain't gonna preach. Because I know that you sure as hell ain't gonna listen to me about picnics and cookies. And I'll even admit that you did a mighty fine job of taking care of us all these years, but the heat is off. Or at least it's a whole lot cooler. So I guess what I'm saying is . . . leave us the hell alone and get a damn life. You deserve it, you bastard." He even had the gall to grin.

Zack sighed, already knowing that he was going to cave sooner or later. "How did you get so stupid?"

"Practice, bro." Zane looked like the cat that got the cream, "So you're letting me stay." He didn't phrase it as a question, just in case it gave Zack enough ammo to fire another round of arguments and lectures.

Zack swore under his breath. "It's only temporary. And don't think it's because of that sappy speech of yours."

"Of course not, Kemosabe." Zane said straight-faced, he was just happy that he bought himself some time.

They both sat in silence, only the hum of the fan kept it from being complete silence.

"Zack? You're still leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah."

"Nice."

Zack gave him a sideways glance. "You expecting Jondy or something?"

Zane shook his head vigorously, "We aren't sleeping together," he said adamantly.

"I didn't say you were."

They sat in semi-comfortable silence before Zane decided to open his big mouth and ruin it again. "So . . . who's next?"

"Tinga."

"Tell the kid I said hi."

"Will do."

"Zack?" Zane's voice was uncharacteristically tentative. "How's Max? Is she doing good?" Two years ago after the demise of their own personal Satan, Zack decided to let them all see each other. Unfortunately, that didn't included Max.

His gray eyes iced over. "Haven't seen her in a while. But I suppose she's the same as she has always been."

"Too bad I don't know what that is." Zane's lopsided grin had a twinge of sadness. "What's the deal? Why don't you ever let her see us?" It was an old argument, but Zane mentioned it anyways. Habit, he guessed.

"It's not safe."

"Bullshit," he ran a hand through his hair. "There's something about her . . . and Ben too. Isn't there? That's why we aren't allowed to make contact with them, why we don't even know where they are. There's something you don't want us to know."

Zack didn't answer.

"How bad can it be? Hell, Syl broke two of Krit's ribs that one time he spent her cash on gas, and you still let us see her." Zane couldn't help but feel like he was talking to a brick wall. "Fine, be that way."

"I will."

"Dirty bastard."

"Thanks."

*****

Seattle - April 2024

*****

Max stepped out onto the rock hard pavement, her face emotionless against the bitter wind. It pricked like tiny daggers against her skin, not really surprising, considering it was one o'clock in the morning, and it was during the dead of winter. Even after two years, she couldn't bear to leave Seattle. In some twist dark corner of her mind, it was a semblance of home for her. It seemed that, lately, she held on tight to anything and everything that once was. It would've been so easy to start anew, but somehow, that didn't appeal to her.

Little moments of pushing thing away would have helped her peace of mind. But she was forever plagued with being constantly conscious, always thinking, and wondering, all at the same time, never forgetting.

Inhaling the fresh scent of recent rainfall, she slowly made her way towards the shipyard. Each step was mechanical; her eyes were devoid of the shine they once held. Now, they were dull, emotionless. There was nothing to look forward to, she was about to do what she did every single day. She would arrive at the site, pack fish for low pay, and then go back home.

That night was no different, or at least it wouldn't have been. Except, she felt another presence. The feeling of isolation momentarily lifting; yet the uneasiness remained. Shrugging off the discomfort, she continued on, only her footsteps echoed against the asphalt.

She looked skyward, wishing for the clouds to lift, for the rain to leave. But the clouds were forever obscuring the light, always casting an unmistakable darkness. Just as well, the sun would probably manage to only remind her of what once was, but never to be again.

Reaching the shipyard, the foreman pointed over to the stack of huge crates. Without one word of disagreement, she set to work. Her boss never questioned her ability; the fact that she was willing to do heavy lifting for horseshit was good enough for him. Max set to work, automatically transporting the crates of rotting fish carcasses, and sorting them. The first few moments were always discomforting, but after a few minutes, she sets back into her familiar groove, unconsciously working. After the first few hours of monotonous sorting, the foreman usually leaves, and she worked alone. No one else wanted the night shift.

In the middle of fifth hour, Max felt that familiar presence again, the feeling of being watched. Pushing away the uncomfortable notion to the very dark depths of her mind, she continued stacking and sorting, not letting the feeling persist.

Quickening her pace ever so slightly, she moved to the edge of the dock. She bent over and prepared herself for a large crate. Her fingers took a tight hold of the edges, and she lifted the whole thing up with relative ease.

But just then, that feeling of unease rushed back to her at full force. Her cloudy mind snapped to the present as she lost her balance. Then she fell.

It never would've happened before. Before, she could've easily anchor her foot down and effortlessly stood up straight again. However, over time, she started living in the past, never concentrating. Over time, she became less like the person she was, and more like a machine. Her senses dulled, and all she could think about while she plummeted towards the icy salt water, was the eerie presence that was still there.

Her body smashed against the rock-solid waves, plummeting for a few seconds. After the soft, yet all too brief, falling sensation, the contact with the waves halted her descend with a hard crash. Following the initial contact, the water relented and started to envelope her, plunging her into a soundless world.

Her mind told her to fight against the waves, to swim up and get air. But throughout the whole ordeal, she remained unnaturally calm. Her body continued to stay suspended in the watery environment. Max didn't know how long she had been under. Could've been seconds, or maybe it could've been hours, she couldn't tell.

Why wasn't she swimming up to the surface? Perhaps it was because she felt at peace. Under the waves, it was quiet. There were no distractions. She didn't think so much. Maybe she should stay under. . . .

Just then, an arm shot down and roughly pulled her away from the calm place. All of a sudden, Max heard the distractions again, the rain that fell softly, the streetlight that hummed, the sound of her lungs coughing. She was coughing? Funny, she didn't even know that water had gotten into her lungs.

She was disoriented, yet she didn't care.

"What the hell were you thinking?" That voice . . . it was so familiar. Her foggy mind fought hard to recall.

Zack.

Max tilted her face up to look at the person that pulled her out. His unmistakable jaw was tight and his eyes bored into hers. "Answer me!" he demanded.

She sat there, dripping, her mind not comprehending totally. It had been so long since she has spoken to anyone, and this wasn't just anyone. This was Zack.

He was checking her forehead, seeing if she suffered more damage than it looked like. But all Max could do was sit there and stare blankly at him. A million emotions rushed at her full force, much more than she knew how to deal with. What was going to happen? Was he back for good? What did it mean?

"Dammit Max! Say something!"

Her pulse quickened, her breathing shallow as she gazed up at him again. She didn't think that she would ever see him again, but now that he was there, flesh and bones, she didn't know what to say.

He waited. Wondering what the hell was wrong with her. The woman in front of him wasn't the Max that he knew. She was a shell of her former self. Her hair was plastered to her face and her body shook with shivers. And all she could do was stare at him. He hadn't plan on seeing her for a good long while, only planned on observing her from a safe distance. But one cruel twist of fate changed his plan. He found himself creeping out of the shadows and running towards her. He found himself reaching down into the freezing waters and pulling her out when her own body wouldn't.

She looked so lost; so hopeless that he couldn't help but lower his tone. "Max? Are you okay?"

Her lower lip quivered as she fought to form the words. "Zack. . . ."

He never thought that he would ever hear her utter his name ever again. Reaching out to her, he pulled her shaking body into his arms and wordlessly, the two of them headed to her apartment.

*****

"Are you warmer?"

"Yes."

"Do you need anything else?"

"No."

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yes."

Zack stared down at her small figure, huddled in a large blanket. Handing her a cup of steaming water, since that was all she had, he leaned against the counter. He tried to ask her how she was feeling, if she was okay, but she managed to only reply with one-word answers and it was making him mad.

"Thanks."

"Yeah." His own reply was short and clipped.

He stood there, watching her watch him. Neither of them said a word. The only noise was of Max, sipping the steaming liquid. Unable to stand the silence any longer, Zack sighed loudly. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

Her face reflected the ultimate calmness. It made him wonder when and how did she lose her fieriness, her undeniable personality. "I fell," she stated the obvious.

"Why didn't you do something about it? You were down there for ten minutes!" He couldn't help it. He was angry, she didn't care what happened anymore, and she wasn't Max anymore.

"Zack . . . please--"

"What? You want me to drop it? This is not going to be something we ignore and pretend to forget! What the hell is going on with you?" "I don't know."

Her soft responses caused a surge of anger to well up in him. The person in front of him wasn't her. "Damn it, can you stop sounding like that? You fall into the water, stayed there, and you don't know why?" He was shouting now, and he saw her eyes flinch every time he shouted, but he just couldn't stop.

"I didn't want to come back up, right away." Her eye drifted towards the ground, and remained there.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

He shook his head. It was so hard. She used to be able to tell him anything, but it wasn't like that anymore. "What happened to you, Max?"

With the shrug of her shoulders, he growled and headed towards the door.

"Fine, don't want to talk to me? I'll make it easier on you. Bye."

Her head snapped up. The chance that he might walk out of her life for good pulled her out of her own little world and back to the present. "When will you come back again?"

"Does it matter to you?"

"Yes." She replied without hesitation. "We should talk."

"Talk?" His voice was incredulous, "I've been trying to do that all night. Well, forget it. I'm all 'talked' out."

"So that's it? You're leaving, forever?"

His ears perked at hearing her familiar biting tone. He turned around, only to have his hopes squelched at seeing her dejected face. Max sat there. She felt so frail . . . weak. After accepting the fact that he was never coming back, the sight of him in front of her just flipped her whole world upside down. "Please don't go."

"Things aren't the same anymore."

"We can try." But part of her knew that she was wrong, and that things would never be the same again. "Just don't leave me for good." She was needy, she knew that. But for the moment, she just didn't give a damn.

"I wouldn't leave you for good." "Then don't leave me at all."

"Max--"

"Please, Zack?" She pushed all the questions that she had to the back of her mind; all that mattered at the present moment was getting him back. She could save those other questions for later . . . just have to deal with those later. "Zack?"

Zack stood uncomfortably under her unwavering gaze, and for the first time in his life, he unsure of what to do. Returning her pleading gaze, he found himself unable to deny her anything, just like always, he relented. "Okay. I can stay for only awhile though." He saw her smile for the first time that night, the brightness returning to her eyes again as the sun flooded though the window behind her, as if trumpeting a new beginning for them. Somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, Zack knew that it wasn't going to last. He would have to leave again.

*****

"Zack, do you ever wonder if a God exists?"

He looked over at her, his face unreadable. It had never been so hard to tell what he was thinking. He'd always made it clear, but now he was keeping everything to himself. With a shrug of his shoulder, he settled his attention back on the billboard across the street. "I don't know."

"Okay, well, try?" It wasn't a demand. It was a soft plea, a voice that was sounding all-too-familiar to him. It was one of those moments, their moments, when they would sit together by themselves, and just talk, or not. Sometimes, Zack didn't feel like talking. Max never pushed the matter too hard, only asked "Please." And if he didn't want to talk about it, she'd just let it go.

That voice, it left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. It reminded him too much of the night Max pleaded with him to stay the night with her. She had sounded so needy then. The Max that he used to know didn't need him; she had someone else. But the Max that he used to know smiled, because she was happy. He wanted her to be happy again.

Every time she spoke he was reminded of what used to be, and although he hated to remember, he wouldn't let himself forget. She still didn't want him. She wanted someone else. She said she needed him, her brother. It should've been enough, but it wasn't. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Zack?"

"Yeah?"

"Uh . . . nothing, sorry."

Sometimes, he'd find himself more and more impassive. That scared him. It scared him to know that the person beside him was turning more and more into a complete stranger. What then? Would he still care about her the same way? There was a possibility that he wouldn't.

And it scared the shit out of him. "Zack? Want to go now?" Max eyes sought out his, as if asking for permission. He shook his head, still keeping his gaze straight ahead. "You can go if you want. I think I'll stay a bit longer."

She imperceptibly nodded and stared down at the dark ground beneath her. "Okay, I'll stay too then."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

Did she know? He wondered. Did she know how much he wanted to be with her, but at the same time, how much it was suffocating him? "A few more minutes, then."

"Fine with me." Everything was fine with her. That was the problem.

And that was the end of it. She stayed, and he stayed. When he wanted to leave, she would leave too.

*****

Seattle - Three weeks later

*****

Stepping out onto the familiar dock, Max prepared herself for a long night ahead. Nodding toward the foreman, she began the monotonous work of lifting and sorting. Every day that passed by, she hated arriving at the dock even more. All those hours of mechanical work gave her too much time to think. There was no question what was always first and foremost on her mind.

Logan.

Zack.

She killed Logan. She screwed Zack. Funny how it still hurt every single time she thought about it. Well, maybe it wasn't so funny after all. They never talked about it. Perhaps it was because it was better left in the darkest of corners. It's better that way. Left alone, never acknowledged--and maybe, someday forgotten. After all, time healed all wounds.

She was lying, trying to fool herself and she knew it, too. It would never be forgotten. There was no chance in hell that it would ever leave her alone. She deserved it, to be punished for what she did.

She thought that Logan was her one true love, but she must have been wrong. It was so beautiful and so pure at the beginning. She thought it was going to be that way forever. She was just so stirred by his honesty and innate goodness that she must have let that cloud her judgment, let the truth be distorted. She even believed every word he said to her, every promise that he proclaimed.

Empty promises. He said that they were going to be together forever. Well, forever ended all too quickly and she was left behind. Logan lied to her. He was the one person that she thought she could trust. Turned out that she shouldn't have trusted him.

The whole thing was damned from the beginning.

Love was supposed to be perfect. He said so. It was supposed to be beautiful, like a sunrise, promising so many new beginnings. It was supposed to be an encompassing feeling of freefall, never ending.

But that once brilliant red hue in the sky dissipated into a lifeless black void. That wondrous freefall she felt was halted by an abrupt smack against the hard ground.

Logan told her he loved her. And she believed him. She believed every word. She let herself fall in love with him. He told her that the only thing he wanted was for her to be happy. He made her believe that she was the reason he existed.

Wrong on both counts. Turned out that he didn't want her to be the reason he drew each breath, so he stopped existing altogether. He was addictive, like a drug; she craved for his touch everyday. It had been unbearable when she couldn't have that touch anymore. She wasn't just unhappy, she was miserable. The light that once shone through her burned out into a dark hole full of nothingness.

She killed Logan.

And it was happening all over with Zack. She was pathetic enough to sleep with him, and then she was pathetic enough to beg him to stay. He felt an obligation to her. That was why he stayed. Too late, now she was drowning him, smothering him just like she did with Logan. Soon, he will leave her too.

It hurt. It hurt so much to know what she did. The damage to their relationship was irreparable, and it was all her fault.

The sky gradually lightened as time progressed, the sun peeking up from the horizon to announce a new day. A new beginning.

But there would be no more new beginnings for her.

Soon, she'd have to go back home. Where he was waiting for her. She dreaded every moment, every step that took her closer to him.

Yet, she took those steps every single damn day. Why? Because she needed him. The situation was screwed up and she had no clue of how to fix it. She found solace in him, yet she knew she that being with him was killing her inside. He was the only thing that kept her sane. Just knowing that he was in her corner made everything almost better.

But not quite. It was still wrong somehow. She knew. She knew what he thought of her. It sickened her to remember that day. How she had pleaded and begged. She had betrayed the bond, that unbreakable bond of theirs. Hell, she had severed it, obliterated it, and chopped it up to into countless pieces so that there was no hope of ever putting it back together.

Yet, he stayed with her. Because she was so damn pathetic. She hated every word that came out of her mouth. It reminded her how weak she was. How her weakness had killed Logan, and had killed her relationship with Zack.

But she couldn't go back. Never. She couldn't lose him. It would kill her. Why was she the way she was? She had no idea. Perhaps it was the constant fear of someone else leaving her that terrified her.

*****

Standing at the familiar grimy door, Max waited. She wasn't ready to open it just yet. He would be on the other side, waiting. Glaring at her traitorous trembling hand, she mustered up all the bravado she could and pushed the door open.

Her confidence shattered into a million pieces the second she saw him.

His head jerked up--he must have been deep in thought not to have heard her steps. His face, calm and collected, tried its best to smile. No success though. The slight curve at the corner only succeeded in reminding her how strained their relationship was.

"Hey Zack, you're up?" She sounded uneasy. Watching his face fall towards the floor, she assumed that he didn't like the sound of it either.

"Yeah, been up for awhile."

She walked over to the middle of the room and threw her jacket over the back of a chair. After that was done, she didn't know what to do with herself. Her hands flailed about helplessly before settling themselves in her pockets. What now? "At the dock, this morning, I saw the sunrise."

"Really?" His eyes sought out her, his eyebrows raised slightly in interest. What she would've give just to know what he was thinking just then.

"Yeah, it was different today. More . . . gradual. Usually, it just comes up without me realizing it." She broke eye contact. Zack sat there. He hated the small talk. It only masked what they were both thinking. He watched the aforementioned sun, illuminating her, only to be reminded of the first night he came back. He had been stupid to think that anything would ever be okay again. He still was stupid, but he was about to correct that.

Cautiously, she sat down on the dingy table in front of him. Meekly smiling, she waited for him to say something.

"I have to leave." He blurted it. It was bad timing. But then again, there really wasn't a good time to tell someone something like that. Zane couldn't wait for him to leave, but he had a feeling that Max wouldn't react the same way he did. Zack waited for the inevitable. She would want to know why he was leaving, how could he tell her? It wasn't for his sake really, it was for theirs.

But it still didn't solve anything. It didn't matter that he was willing to go to the ends of the earth for her, or that he would eagerly jump into the nearest volcano. If it meant she would be happy, then he would do it all in a heartbeat. It didn't matter. It was too hard anyways.

After a long tense pause, her small broke sliced through the silence. "Why are you leaving?"

That voice echoed in his ear. He wanted so much to comfort and console her, but he can never do that. Their relationship was too far beyond repair. It was such a simple question 'why?' and yet he didn't have the slightest idea why. All he knew was that he needed to go. "It's too dangerous for me to stay," a lie, and she knew it, "it's already been three weeks. I've never stayed this long."

"But. . . ." She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to kick at him and demand to know why he was doing this to her. Didn't he know? Didn't he know that if he left her, she would die? He was all she had left and he was leaving her. Who was doing this to her? It wasn't fair. "Do you have to?" It was a redundant question, but she asked anyways.

"Yes." He sounded so cold. He didn't care. "You know that this situation wasn't forever. It can't be."

That bastard. It wasn't enough for him to leave her once; he just had to do it again. "Is it my fault?"

"I can't stay. You know this as well as I do, don't you think I've thought about this? If I did stay, it would jeopardize us. You've been taught better than that--"

She didn't want to hear anymore. She already heard it all before. And it still stung each time. He didn't want her either. She was being punished again. Why was it happening all over again? Was she that bad? Did she deserve this? She looked heavenward and waited for an answer to come. She got none.

Then it happened. A tear slid down her cheek. Then another. "You can't. I need you, Zack."

But he was no good for her. Didn't she see it? The sight of her anguish nearly killed him. It nearly brought him to his knees to beg for her forgiveness. But he forcefully reminded himself why he was leaving. He was leaving for her. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to stay, but he knew better. He wasn't stupid.

"Zack, please say something."

He just stared at the ground. Never breaking his gaze from it.

"Zack?"

"I just have to go." His voice was emotionless. Without one single look of remorse, he stood up and headed towards the door. "I thought you needed to know, that's all." So much finality in his voice.

That bastard. He came back and now he was leaving again. "Don't go." It was a command.

Turning around slowly, he gauged her expression. Her eyes bored into his, challenged him. For a moment, he entertained the thought that just maybe she never changed, or maybe she was back to how she used to be. "Why not?" His unwavering gaze broke away when he saw her the hopelessness reemerging in her eyes. When did it get this difficult? How did he get himself in so deep without ever realizing it?

Just as quickly as it came, it left. Her face cast downwards and she shook her head. "I need you."

"No you don't. I'm no good for you. Can't you see it? Max, this is better for you. Trust me." That sounded sensible, and he was right. They weren't ready to be together yet. He just needed to make her know it.

"No. You can't just leave. You can't just run away from your problems. Talk to me, Zack."

"There's nothing to talk about." He sounded so convincing that he almost believed himself.

"So you're just going to leave? You've never run away from your problems."

"Now is a good a time as any."

"Zack--"

"Max! Just stop it! You know this, I know this! I have to *go*." He never intended to even raise his voice, but there he was, yelling at her. His Max. His heart clenched at the sight of her hands trembling, her quivering lip, those eyes that were trying valiantly to stop the tears from coming.

"I need you."

He couldn't do that. He couldn't! He couldn't leave her again. She wouldn't let him. "Zack--"

"Don't you see it? Don't you see how fucked up this is?" He looked angry.

He was reaching for the doorknob. It was real. Not a dream at all, but actually a cruel reality that left a bitter taste in her mouth. He was really leaving. "Please . . . please--Zack." Her body instinctively jumped up and ran to him. She couldn't let him go. The sight of Max, clutching at his arm, her tear-stricken face anguished made what he had to do even harder. "Don't go." She sounded so vulnerable.

He wanted to hold her, to tell her that it was going to be better, but to do that would be cowardly. It wasn't going to get better. Ever. "Max, it's over!" But it never was anything to begin with. "Let me go!" His voice sounded harsh, it nearly killed him to see her in so much pain. Pain that he caused.

"No!"

Roughly grabbing her wrist, he pulled her towards him. "You want to know if there's a God?" His expression was relentlessly cold. He just couldn't let her see how it was affecting him. How it was killing him.

"Zack, why are you doing this?" She tried not to let bit her lip in pain from his tight grip.

He shook her again. "Listen to me," he demanded, "Don't you think I've thought about this? Don't you think I've carefully considered every possible solution. There is none." Love was cruel. It would cut and tear at a person until there was nothing left. Max was living proof of that. He couldn't go through the same thing. He was selfish. "There is no God."

She didn't dare say a word.

"There is no fucking way one exists, do you know why?" It wasn't Zack staring back at her anymore. The man staring back at her was callous and unfeeling.

She shook her head.

"Look around you! You live in this shitty hellhole and every damn day you go down to that damn dock, pretending that it matters. I know what you're thinking every time moment of every fucking day. You're thinking about him! About how he was taken from you, about how much it's killing you. What kind of God would inflict that much pain?" He searched her eyes for understanding. "I can't do this anymore. It's too hard." He had given up a long time ago. Maybe he never had any hope to begin with. All he knew was that it was over.

She didn't say a word. She just pulled him closer, kissing him with all the passion she could muster. Of all the things she could have done, that was the last thing that he expected.

She was crying. He could taste her salty tears as it mingled with their kiss. It was too late for them. He knew it before, and he knew it now as she clung to him tightly. What was he to do? After all, there was nothing left for them.

It was starting all over again. They'd screw, and then what? Eventually she'll end up hating him as much as he already hated himself. Maybe if she hated him enough, she'll finally get enough strength to push him away. Maybe that was the reason for all of this. He wished for that to be the point. There had to be a point. God, let it be the fucking point.

His thoughts were all jumbled as he pushed her against the mattress, crushing her soft body beneath his.

There was no God.

He was so close. So warm, and she needed him so much. She wouldn't be able to handle it if he pulled away. In his arms, she felt protected. She was happy. That was all there was to it.

"Zack." It was a soft whisper, one that didn't get her a reaction. "Zack."

He gruffly mumbled something indecipherable and went back to the task of unbuttoning her sweater. Her hands stilled his and he finally looked at her face. He face reflected his confusion, why was she stopping him?

"Zack, I just wanted you to know that . . . that this isn't just a lay for me. You're--"

"I know." His eyes softened and he even smiled a bit. "And ditto." And then he kissed her again, just like he had countless of times before. But this time was different. This time it wasn't out of anger or grief. She kissed him back with everything she had. She poured every emotion she ever felt into that kiss, hoping that he would understand. Understand how much she cared. And underneath the ardor and tenderness of that kiss she felt something back. She felt him emotions and feelings. He did understand.

*****

Max sat on the couch, watching as Zack and his analytical mind pace in front of her. "Can you just stay still and talk to me?"

He paused, but only for a moment. "It helps me think. The extra movement makes blood flow faster."

She sighed, but couldn't help but let a smile grace her lips. "You always have to have a reason for everything, don't you? Why can't you just do something just for the sake of doing something?"

He shrugged. "Everyone has a reason for doing something, whether they acknowledge it or not. I do."

"We're avoiding it."

"What?"

"You know very damn well."

He stopped, stiffening immediately. "Things have officially been screwed . . . for the second time."

"And?" she prompted gently.

"And what?" he griped, "What are we supposed to do? Pretend it didn't happen?"

She eyed his inquisitively. "Is that what you want?"

"No," he admitted, albeit grudgingly. "It's probably not going to do any good since we did that the first time."

"So what do you propose?"

He turned towards her, "What are you so passive about this?" He couldn't help but think that she was somehow leading him into a trap of some sort.

"Because I already know what I want. What I'm curious about is what you want." She folded her arms and waited for his answer.

He just scoffed. "Care to enlighten me? Because I haven't the slightest idea what I want."

"Stay, Zack."

He sighed. "You know it's not that simple."

"It can be."

He raked his hand through his hair. "And what makes you so sure?"

She hesitated. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure. But I'm willing to try."

"Try at what?" he snapped.

Her posture was rigid. And from where he was, he caught a glimpse of her whiten knuckles, clutching to side of the couch. She was nervous. "Do you ever wonder . . . if there's a reason why this is happening? Why we keep ending up in bed?" Zack was about to interrupt and remind her that it had only happened twice, but the look on her face told him to keep his mouth shut. She continued, "I think that there's something here worth exploring," she half-gestured, "I feel safe with you, Zack. I trust you. I care about you and I know that you feel the same way."

"It's never that easy."

"But it doesn't have to be complicated," she stared back at him earnestly, "Please, Zack? Something wonderful can happen if you would just let it."

Her words hung over his head. There was a possibility that she was right. But there was also a possibility that she was wrong. Was he willing to risk it? A million things flooded his mind, and most of them were words of caution, telling him that it would only end badly for the both of them. But with one look into those soft brown eyes, Zack's icy demeanor melted. "Okay."

She beamed, roughly pulling him down to meet her mouth. The weights lifted from her shoulders and elatedness replaced it. Her mind broke down from the onslaught of emotions she felt, but she knew that she never wanted the euphoric feeling to end. Finally pulling away, she peered into his eyes, only to see joy there. "You think this is fate?"

"I didn't know you believed it fate."

"I don't."

He grinned. "Destiny, then."

*****

The red hue dissipated into a deep violet as the afternoon sun gave way to the yellow full moon. The streets were bathed in glowing lights, bright enough to see in, but dark enough to allow privacy. On one of the street corners, a woman with a light smile on her face was dragging someone across the street, into a nearby park.

"Come on!"

Her companion resisted, although the attempt was rather half-hearted. "Max, it's late. And cold."

She laughed, "So? It's not as if it affects you. You're nocturnal anyways." She dropped his arm, and grinned a sly grin. Without one word, she spun around and sprinted away from him. Her voice could be heard echoing after her footsteps. "Race you!"

Without a moment's hesitation, Zack took off after her, rolling his eyes. His footsteps echoed behind hers, gradually, he increased his pace. His eyes tried to focus in on her, but she had disappeared into the shadows. He slowed down, and eventually came to a complete stop. He took a brief second to catch his breath and then scanned the area for any sign of her.

Just when he was about to quit and admit defeat, he felt a sharp point in the middle of his back. "Don't make a sound, or I swear, I'll shove this knife into your spleen." The stranger told him with a shaky voice. The knife trembled, just like his voice did.

"That's not my spleen." Zack grunted in discomfort as the point dug in further.

"You think you're funny?" His voice broke into a high-pitched squeak towards the end of his sentence.

He was about to say something, but decided against it. He had seen this very thing happen with Zane time and time again whenever he chose to open his big mouth. It usually resulted in a harmless scratch or two, but then, none of the others ever got banged up much.

"That's better." With the knife still stationed on his back, "Empty your pockets." Zack obeyed. A pager fell out, as well as a few crumpled bills and a receipt. "That's all you got?"

"Well he didn't plan on being mugged by some kiddy who thinks he a tough guy." That was Max. Zack heard her from behind his attacker. "Now I suggest you let him go before I rearrange your face."

Zack, still at knifepoint, idly wondered why each and every one of had to always come up with smart-ass remarks all the time. It wasted time and left them open for an attack from behind. He would have to tell her once this was over.

"You've got to be kidding me, girly." That was the knife-wielding voice behind him.

She scoffed. "Girly? I'm at least five years older than you."

Zack was tempted to tell them to get on with it. The knife was digging harder into his flesh every time Max aggravated the boy's already nervous hand. Luckily, his jacket took the grunt of the damage.

Finally, the pressure on his back disappeared and he turned around in time to see Max flip the guy onto his back. His knife was nowhere in site, so Zack assumed that the guy either dropped it, or Max made him drop it. Zack calmly watched as the guy scrambled to his feet and run towards the money that had been left on the ground. Annoyed, she lunged at the same time and caught his ankle with the heel of her foot. The poor guy slammed back down to the ground before he knew what hit him. "You guys never learn to just stay on the ground, do you?"

The guy swallowed nervously.

"Call the police, would ya, Zack?"

He looked at her quizzically, but left for a payphone nonetheless.

Ten minutes later, a single squad car drove up and a portly officer jumped out. He didn't ask a lot of questions, and the questions that he did ask, Max answered smoothly.

"I take self defense classes down at the civic center on Tuesdays. Looks like it paid off, huh? Guess I was just lucky, officer." The policeman nodded at what she said without suspicion, not bothering to write any of it down. "Say," she jutted her chin at the boy in the back seat of the squad car, "What's going to happened to him?"

"Well miss, most likely he's a minor. This assault charge with a deadly weapon will probably get him some time in confinement. Probably community service, too. But it's really up to the court to decide." Max looked bothered. "Will he be rehabilitated?"

"They'll try to."

Max grew quiet. "Okay, thanks."

"No problem. I'm just sorry that you had to go through this ordeal." They spent a few more minutes talking. The officer wanted to know if they were going to press charges, but was relieved to hear that they didn't plan to. It was less work for him.

Once the car left, Zack walked up to Max, who was standing a ways off. She tried to smile when he came up. He took her hand and swung her around to face him. "You all right?"

She nodded. "Sorry, I made you call the police. I know how that freaks you out."

"You didn't make me do anything," he said simply. "And it was the right thing to do." It was what Logan would've done, a little voice inside told him. He ignored it. "Besides, they didn't have any reason to suspect us of anything."

"Not everyone wears a tainted badge." "But enough of them do."

She buried her head in his chest. "What possessed you to just stand there at knife-point?"

"I figured that you needed the exercise more than I did," he joked.

She chuckled. "That was risky."

"Sure was."

"And you're okay with it?"

"Sure am."

"Uh oh. You're turning into me."

"Heaven forbid." He leaned down and caught her lips in his.

*****

They sat on the couch, her hand entwined with his. For the first time in two years, Max felt safe. And for the first time in two years, loneliness wasn't gnawing at her stomach anymore. They had talked for a long time. Sometimes they talked about trivial things, and sometimes they talked about their shared past. "Want some?" He held a can of pineapple chunks. "It's not bad."

Max looked at the can suspiciously, "Is it good?" Taking the fork from him, she speared one and popped it in her mouth. "Thanks."

"You working tonight?"

"Nope."

"Good." His fork clanged against the metal bottom of the can. "Want the juice?"

"Definitely," she snatched the can away, grinning. She hastily gulped down the contents and jumped up to do the dishes because it was her turn that night. Zack had a soft look on his face as he followed her, slowly taking his time. Sneaking behind her, he felt her smile. "Hey there."

"Hi," he said softly.

She left the soapy dished in the sink. She could always do them later. Turning around, she looked into his eyes at his warm gaze. She felt happy, unbelievably happy. "Want to take this conversation into the bedroom?" she said coyly. She tried pulling him, but he resisted.

Zack smiled at her confused face. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Yeah?"

He paused for a moment. "I've been here for two weeks." "Two very enjoyable weeks, right?"

"Yes." He grinned, light dancing in his clear eyes, but they quickly grew somber. "But I can't stay." Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. She had been expecting this. "I know. But it was nice pretending for awhile there, wasn't it?"

Zack nodded, pulling her closer. "You can come with me," he said gently.

It was something that she considered a lot. But she still wasn't sure if she was ready to leave the one place that she ever called home. "I know, but I'm still not sure."

"That's okay." He kissed her softly. "You can come when you're ready."

She looked at him hesitantly. "What if I never am?"

He held a hand up to her cheek, smiling softly. "I'll never really leave you for long."

"I know that." She tightened her hold on him.

"Then we don't have a problem, do we?"

She smiled, "I guess not." Without another word, she pulled him towards the bedroom. This time, he allowed her to. *****

Max lay naked; letting the wind from the open window cool her sweat soaked skin. She let the familiar euphoric feeling overcome her as she turned over to gaze down at her lover.

He smiled at her. "Hey, gorgeous." He let his fingers tangle themselves in her damp silken hair.

"Hi, yourself." She positioned herself so that she was in the crook of his neck. "You know, there are some advantages to Manticore technology."

He looked down at her curiously, but also with some amusement. "And what is that?"

"Stamina."

He bit his lip to keep from laughing. She didn't fare much better. Muffled giggles escaped her throat and eventually, she didn't bother to hide them. He pulled her closer and they continued to talk lover's talk for several more minutes.

After a companionable silence, Max said, "I want to go with you."

His mind was still muddled from the conversation before. "Huh?"

She repeated herself. "When you leave, I want to go with you."

"Are you sure?" He knew that attachment she had to this place, and he knew how hard it must be for her to leave it. "I was just suggesting it before, Max. I didn't mean to pressure you into this."

"You didn't," she protested gently. "I've been thinking about it. And I've come to the conclusion that I don't want to be apart from you. This place is just a place. And even if I leave it, the memories of it will still be with me. So you see, Zack, it's the best of both worlds."

He returned her smile, "I love you. You know that?"

Her movements halted, she even blinked a few times before replying. "W-what?" It was the first time he had said that. Practically the first time he said anything to reveal his feelings to her.

Zack was obviously pleased with her reaction. He shrugged shyly, "I know I should've orchestrated something better than just blurting it out. Especially after sex. But I was just thinking, watching you, and watching us. And I know that I want to have this feeling forever." He chuckled at his candor. "And then I realized that I've fallen so hard for you, I just couldn't wait to tell you." It didn't matter to him if she didn't return the feelings; he just wanted for her to know.

She looked at him in awe. "You're amazing."

He grinned. "So I did it right?"

She returned him smile, "That was the best way you could've done it." She kissed him hard, smiling the whole time. "And Zack?"

"Yeah?" He was slightly breathless.

"I love you, too."

He chuckled. "I figured as much."

She laughed, knowing that he was lying.

*****

San Bernardino - November 2024

*****

There she was, sitting alone in a room foreign to her. She had finally left Seattle. It was hard, but he was right. There was nothing left for her there. Sighing, she pushed back a damp strand of her hair. It was hot in San Bernardino. The air was too dusty. She didn't like the Californian climate as much as she did Seattle, but Zack said that being close to the Mexican border would greatly improve their chances of not being caught, since the security there was so lax. Being in closer proximity to the others was a plus too.

Zack never told her where they were. He just said that it was better if she didn't know. It was enough of a compromise . . . her being near him all the time. That's why he never bothered to tell her where he went, or whether he was checking in on Ben or Jondy. But it was for the best that she didn't know. He was right.

Max heard the soft footsteps down the hall. It was Zack. She lay down on the bed and snapped her eyes shut. She honestly loved having Zack around all the time, but she hated it whenever he left. Sure, he came back within a few days at most, but it never sat well with her.

Zack always tried to get to the apartment as quick as possible. Maybe it was because she had just moved to San Bernardino and he was worried. But he knew that it was really just something about seeing her smile slightly whenever he came home that made him feel good. It wasn't just her smile that did it, it was just being with her, safe in the knowledge that he loved her, and that she accepted that. He quietly crept into the bedroom and saw her sleeping form. Which was odd, considering it was hard enough to get her to sleep at night, never mind the daytime. "Max?"

She could feel the heat radiating from his palm as he placed it on her forehead. Without permission, her eyes opened.

"Hey, are you okay?" He sounded sincere. And she immediately remembered with she loved him so much.

"Yeah." Her hand reached out for him, guiding him down onto the bed. "I missed you."

He obliged, with a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He took her outreached arm and allowed himself to fall down beside her. He finally knew what Zane's sappy talk was all about. Of course, he'd never admit it. For the first time, he felt like he was needed . . . not for bail money, but just because. "I missed you, too." He missed her every single moment whenever he was away. He placed a tender kiss on her forehead, allowing her to kiss him back. His arms encircled her waist and he pulled her closer.

His fingers deftly moved from her waist to her neck. During one heated kissed, he removed his shirt and hers. "I missed you so much, Max." She had missed him too.

*****

She watched him as he slept. The soft glow of the moonlight through the window enhanced each of his features--the features that were etched forever in her mind. These were the moments that made everything click into place. She believed that they were in love, and that he would never hurt her. She made herself believe that she was going to have a happy ending, this time around.

Staring at those familiar features, she sought comfort in knowing that he was there . . . with her at that moment. He looked so peaceful, so innocent.

Unable to bear the temperature and humidity anymore, Max rolled off the bed and walked over to the window, heaving it open with one hand. She didn't think she would ever get used to the desert climate. She stared out into the barren land, scattered with patched of dry grass. Even in the dark, the crack ground was still a fiery clay-red hue. That was one thing she liked about San Bernardino, the colors.

She gazed over at the blond who was quietly sleeping underneath the covers. How he could stand the heat, she would never know. Perhaps he was used to it.

"Too hot," she murmured.

The sound of her voice pulled him out of his slumber. Zack was always a light sleeper. He said that sleep made a person vulnerable and dulled the reflexes. Rolling over, his groggy eyes quickly adjust to the dim light. She smiled at his adorably perplexed face. "What are you doing up?"

"I can't sleep. It's too hot."

He smiled because he already knew that. He was apparently used to her being awake at all hours of the night. "Did you turn on the fan?"

She pouted. "It doesn't work."

"I didn't know it was broken. I'll fix it in the morning."

She smiled at the suggestion, wondering when Zack had gotten past the steel-hard facade and became so sweet. "It's not broken. It just doesn't lower the temperature . . . at all."

"Oh." His voice was still laden with drowsiness.

"I'm sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay." He gave her a lopsided smile. "Come back to bed." His voice was soft. She loved the sound of his voice. It was always so calm in contrast to her sharp one.

Simply shrugging her shoulders, she backed away from him and moved closer to the window. "I'll just watch the sunrise. You can go back to sleep if you want." He briefly wondered what her preoccupation with the sun was, but maybe she just liked it because it looked nice. He got up close to her and shook his head. He'd much rather stay with her than go back to bed.

Stifling a yawn, he got up and crossed the room. Max felt his strong arms encircle her. Maybe it would be different this time. Maybe they'd be okay. She loved him, and he loved her. . . . That was enough, wasn't it? "Zack, what do you love about me?"

He leaned in close. "Huh?"

"You really aren't that sharp when you first wake up."

"Thanks," he grinned. "Do you need an ego boost?"

She pulled away slightly, looking in his warm eyes. "No!" She pouted again. "Well . . . maybe. I just wonder why you put up with me, is all." She tried her best to look pathetic.

He chuckled. "I should be asking you that question."

"Don't change the subject."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"You're stalling."

He laughed again. "Well, it's hard to come up with a love sonnet on the spot."

"I'm not asking for one." She fought back the urge to smack him on the shoulder. "Get on with it already."

He took his time think about it. Finally, with a suspicious twinkle in his eye, he winked at her and said, "You're just really swell."

"Fine, don't answer then." This time she really hit him. "You can be an ass sometimes."

"That is the popular opinion."

He loved her spirit, her enthusiasm. The way she crinkled her nose whenever she found out that he mixes up the newspaper pages. The way she softly snored when she slept. There were lots of things that were wonderful about her, but mostly, it was just how she made him feel so human. It was almost as if she gave his life a new meaning, and for that, he was forever grateful to her.

"Max, I'm gonna be gone for a few days," he murmured. He didn't like leaving her alone, but there was really no choice. Jondy hadn't checked in.

She just nodded, because she was used to it. "Okay." It didn't mean that she had to like it though.

*****

Austin - December 2024

*****

She carelessly walked in and dropped her purse onto the nearest table, ready for a night of doing absolutely nothing. It had been too long since she had done just nothing. Pulling the elastic that held her blond hair up, she didn't notice anything out of the ordinary until the pile of bills on the kitchen table caught her eye. Her place was hopelessly in disarray. Unlike everyone else, she never acquired any organizational skills. That was always one of the topics of discussion whenever Zack came to check up on her.

She was still concentrating on the bills, wondering what it was that bothered her. Then it clicked. The wind from the open window was blowing at the envelope flaps. But the thing was, she didn't remember opening the window before she left. She felt a presence behind her and promptly shoved her elbow in his gut, feeling rather than hearing his soft gasp as the air left his lungs. She flipped around snapped her knee up to his crouched-over face before he knew what hit him.

"Shit!" Zack jumped back, a look of disapproval on his face and a hand placed on his forehead due to impulse. "You could've added battery and assault to your record had I been someone else." He took a step back, just in case she had any intention of attacking him again. Realizing where his palm was, he immediate dropped it and gave her a heated look. "Says the guy who broke into my home." Jondy let the corner of her mouth quirk. "Did it hurt?" She knew very well that it did.

"No."

She smiled. "You should've seen you face when you doubled over like that."

"Why didn't you call in?" he said bluntly.

"What? No hello?" "Don't avoid the question."

Jondy looked past his face and tried to think of a good lie. Too late, Zack caught her discomfort. "I forgot," she muttered. And it was the embarrassing truth too. "You forgot?" "Yeah, I forgot, all right?" She looked sheepish.

He shook his head. "You do it every single week, how can you just forget?"

"Believe it or not, I was preoccupied with something that didn't revolve around you. Why didn't you just call? Did you really have to haul your butt all the way here?" Her green glare met his gray one.

"I did call you. But you weren't here, remember?"

"Oh, we're back to that again." "Yeah, so why don't you tell me how horrible I've messed up this time." She said sarcastically.

He shifted his weight onto his other foot, something he did whenever he got nervous or irritated. Jondy suspected that this time, it was the latter. "Where were you?"

She looked at him crossly. "I don't need to tell you."

"I've waited for four days, Jondy."

She threw her arms out in a defensive gesture. "No one asked you to." She fought the urge to stamp her feet like a six year old, knowing that Zack would probably not appreciate it.

It didn't matter; he already knew where she was.

She looked at him, exasperated. "Do me a favor, Zack, and get that stick out of your ass."

He looked at her sharply. "I will not tolerate insubordination." "Insub--" her eyes widened a bit before she burst out laughing, eliciting another dark look from the man in front of her. "You've been tolerating it for years," she wiped the tears that had collected at the corners of her eyes, her shoulders still shaking from silent laughter. Walking around him towards the kitchen table, she shoved his back playfully. "You're either getting a sense of humor, or you really meant that comment."

"I don't see what's so funny." He glared when he heard the small snorting noises she made while adverting her face from his view.

"Zack, get over yourself okay? With the exception of spineless Krit, none of us are actually afraid of you. Sure, you are annoying as hell, but that's your charm, I guess." She chuckled, noticing his sullen expression. "I would think that it's a good thing. Maybe you'll finally realize that we don't need you hovering all the time, and *maybe* you'll get yourself a life."

"Have you been talking to Zane?"

She feigned confusion. "I haven't seen him since you made me drop him off at the train station in Denver after that whole fiasco with the alcohol. Why?"

"No reason."

"How is he?"

If he was surprised at her question, he didn't let her know it. "He's still selling that crap and still has the dog."

She snickered. "He did consider naming Charlie 'Zack' for awhile. Said that he looked a lot like you when he ate."

He grunted.

"What about you? How is Zack?"

"I'm just the same as always." She looked at him skeptically, "Really? I heard you were being a bitch for a while there."

He gave her a sideways glance. "And I thought you haven't talked to Zane since Denver."

"Who said I talked to Zane?" she said innocently. "He's not the only that thinks you're a little on the cranky side."

He sighed and rolled his eyes; tired of the game they always played. "Krit did. He told me that you were in Vegas with Zane. That's why you didn't call, right? So I wouldn't know that you were there." Zack didn't look mad. He just stated the facts.

"I'm gonna kill Krit," she muttered. Shaking her head, she sighed. "We aren't sleeping together."

He shook his head in disbelief. They were quite a pair. "Whatever, I really don't care what you guys are doing. Just don't end up killing each other."

She opened her mouth to deny it, but curiosity got the better of her. "You really don't care?" Honestly, she had expected Zack to yell and rant about how incredibly stupid it was for her to get involve with Zane or anyone of the other X-5's for that matter. It was risky business. For one thing, close proximity to each other usually resulted in some disaster of some sort. Krit and Zane's illegal dealings were proof of that.

"Like I said, just don't kill each other or get killed."

She decided to look the gift horse in the mouth. "But why, Zack?"

"We can sit here and play twenty questions, if you want me to change my mind. Or we can just drop it."

Finding herself on the verge of being speechless, she choked out, "What makes you think I need your approval?"

"You don't need it," he admitted, and then grinned, "You want it though, don't you?"

She sunk into the couch, mulling over the change in Zack's philosophy. "I'm not sleeping with Zane," she blurted.

"Fine."

There was something about his nonchalant demeanor that irritated the hell out of her. "And if I was sleeping with him--which I'm not--I don't need your permission." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"That's fine too."

"You're such an ass."

"I know."

*****

San Bernardino - December 2024

*****

"Hey Max."

"Hi."

"Mind if I sit here?"

"Nope."

Her clipped replies didn't discourage her companion at all. "So . . . you working tonight?"

"I work every night."

"Can I buy you a drink?"

She held up her watered-down beer. "Got one."

"So--name's Pat, by the way."

She finally lifted up her head to stare straight at the unshaven familiar face, "Pat, I know who you are," she replied with a humorless smile. They had many shifts together at the restaurant; they even exchanged a few words during her first initial weeks in San Bernardino. "Why? Feeling insecure?" Other than the fact that he always grinned like an idiot, there was nothing that made him stand out from every other guy on the street. He had short dishwater blond hair like a million others, and he was almost good-looking, but not quite there.

He shrugged; his smile was open and friendly. "Just in case you forgot." After a few moments of awkward silence, he nudged her elbow. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk 'bout what?" she feigned nonchalance. But the uncharacteristic airiness in her tone made Pat persist.

"Whatever's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me."

"Well, there's nothing better than drowning non-existent problems in some good alcohol, He peered into his own cup. "Bad alcohol works too. So whaddya say, Max? Get drunk with me?"

"No thanks."

He chuckled. "Okay."

He didn't know Max very well, and he had a feeling that she liked it that way. But there was just something about her that made him look over every time she walked into a room. There was just something about her presence. "Y'know since we're both not drinking, you wanna not-drink together?"

At first he was sure that she would decline, but after a few moments, her shoulders tilted upwards in a shrug and she climbed off the barstool. "Why not?"

A few hours later, they broke their pact to not-drink. Max leaned heavily on Pat as they made their way to his place. He said that he had stronger stuff than the watered down shit they called beer. Nevertheless, she had drunk at least a gallon or two of the stuff. Pat had commented about her having a hollow leg. Of course she knew it was all a bunch of bull. Genetically engineer leg, yes. But hollow? No.

Pat fumbled for his keys and Max made no effort to help him when he dropped them. He dropped to the ground and searched for them. "Stupid keys," he muttered. "If I wasn't so damn plastered, I'd be able to see 'em!"

She laughed. He looked up at her, "You wasted, too?"

She shrugged. "I hold my alcohol very well."

He giggled. "Then why were you singing 'Love Me Tender' back at the bar?"

Her face broke into a wide grin. "Just 'cause."

With leaded feet, they both managed to get into his apartment without breaking any furniture. Pat collapsed on the floor, panting from the exertion. "Carla had always hated it when I drank too much." He laughed at himself, because he found himself hilarious when he talked about his ex.

"Good thing she isn't here." His smile vanished. "Yeah." He frowned.

"Aww, come on! You're no fun when you're sad."

He laughed. "Heh, I'm wasted, I am!"

Max collapse on the floor next to him, dissolving into fits of giggles. "Y'know, this is the most fun I've had in awhile."

"Glad ta hear it!"

All conversation was halted as Pat grabbed the back of head and kissed her. Max didn't make a move to stop him, and even found herself returning the kiss. Wordlessly, they made their way to the bedroom.

*****

"Hey, Earth to Zack," Jondy waved a hand in front of his blank face. "Come in, Zack."

He snapped out of it and grabbed her wrist. "Stop that."

"Gone for quite awhile there."

"Just thinking."

"Oh? 'bout what?"

"Nothing."

She leaned back and stared at his back. They had moved from the kitchen and were currently both seated on her dusty old leather couch. It was brown, but Jondy was sure that it wasn't brown to begin with. There were plenty of holes, some of which were covered with strips of duct tape. "Awfully long time to be thinking of nothing." She waited for a reply, but got none because all of the lights in her loft went out. "Damn. It's another brownout."

"You sure about that?" Jondy could make out Zack's outline. He was standing in front of the window and sure enough, the whole city was dark. He opened the window and climbed out onto the fire escape. "There's no electricity anywhere, it could be the whole city."

"So what are you saying?" Jondy stared out past his shoulder into the pitch back city. Her green eyes squinted slightly because she was unused to the sudden darkness. Zack however, seemed to have adjusted his eyes without any discomfort. "It's a blackout?"

He pick up her phone and listened for a dial tone. "Could be. The phone lines are dead; they wouldn't shut those down for a brownout. You still got those com-links?" He was referring to the communication devices she had pocketed from the sector police when she left Baltimore a few years back.

"Well, yeah." She looked confused. "Why do you want 'em?"

"Because we're going to scout out the most convenient route out of Austin."

"Oh." Jondy didn't look all too enthused at the prospect. "Fun." She went into the kitchen and opened a drawer, pulling out old newspapers, some foil, a dishrag, two forks, three spoons, one candle, and finally the com-links. She tossed one to Zack, noting that he didn't say anything about the mess in the drawer. After she hunted down a book of matches, she lit the candle and set it on a crate.

"How many sectors points in a twenty mile radius?"

"Uh. . . ." She flexed her brain for an answer. Her memory was a bit hazy, but she did recall browsing at a map a few weeks ago. "Three. One down the interstate a few miles, another is in Williamson county, and the last is the closest, just a few blocks from here. Lower East Side." She went back to her closet to dig for a map.

He nodded. "Okay. You take Williamson with your bike, and I'll got the one on the interstate and if they don't pan out, we both circle back to the Lower East Side within the hour."

"What the hell? Now?" She looked at him disbelievingly. "You're asking me to blow the ten gallons of gas I just got?" She snorted. "You can't be serious. Power will probably be back within twenty-four hours."

"Either help, or give me the keys."

Jondy shook her head, glaring at him at the same time. "No way am I going to let you touch my bike again. Last time, you busted the transmission getting Krit and Zane outta jail. Forget it, Zack. Have you lost your marbles?"

"I need to leave, I've been delayed long enough--which was your fault, remember?" He crossed his arms, attempting to look intimidating, which he was doing a damn fine job of.

She imitated his posture and was resolved to stand her ground. "Listen, Zack, I'm not gonna let you bully me again. You're being a jackass. Syl or Tinga or whoever won't care if you show up a day or two late, although I'm sure that they'll be thrilled to celebrate the new year with you." Then it dawned on her. "But you're not checking up on them, are you?" He didn't answer. "So is it Max or Ben? Is one of them in trouble?" she asked, concerned, feeling the familiar adrenaline rush through her body.

"That's on a need-to-know basis."

"I need to know."

"Helping, or not?"

She couldn't believe he was still intent on being so irrational. "Eat me." She stood there rigidly, staring icily at him.

"Well?"

"Shove it, Zack!" She hastily grabbed the com-link and threw on her jacket, and opened the door. "I'm not doing this for you." She threw him one last glare, hoping that he would spontaneously combust right then and there, "I'm doing it for them." And then she slammed the door.

*****

Max rolled onto her back and felt a heavy weight on her. Her head throbbed, and her mouth was like sandpaper. She roughly shoved the weight off of her and ran into the bathroom, retching her breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

"You okay, Max?" A soft masculine voice followed her and before she could whip her head around to see who it was, he had already placed his palm on her bare back.

And then she knew it wasn't Zack. Her stomach was already empty, and all she was left with was dry heaves and she continued to face the porcelain, not quite ready to look at the man kneeling next to her.

"Max?" He held out a glass of water for her, and she took it. She finished it in three gulps and dropped the plastic cup. He chuckled. "Thirsty much?"

It was Pat. She looked up at him blankly, shaking her head. "Whatever you say." "Shit."

Surprised, he swallowed and smiled a bit. "Okay. . . ."

She hastily left the bathroom. Pat, who only had on a pair of pants, stood in the doorways, an indecipherable look on his face. Max didn't say a word as she rushed right past him.

She really messed up. Zack was a little late and she decided to screw up her life. Wonderful. Everything was coming back to her with perfect clarity. She had let him babble on and on about his ex-girlfriend, the one that left him because she just plain wanted to, and Max started to feel sorry for him. Started to become his drinking buddy. They had sat at that bar for three hours, talking and laughing about inconsequential things.

And then she let him take her to his place. Neither intended for anything to happened, but it did. She kissed him. What drove her crazy was the fact that it wasn't the beers that did it. It wasn't because of the way Zack had been treating her. She did it just because she wanted to. And that upset her the most.

"Max? Are you all right?"

She whirled around at him, nearly knocking him to the ground. "No, I'm not all right! How can I possibly be all right?"

He looked wounded. "I don't understand. I thought--"

"Well you thought wrong. How could we do this? How could this have happened?"

"It's not like we planned it. And for Christ's sake, we just fell asleep!"

She waved her hands in front of her, "We kissed Pat!" Her eyes stormed with frustration, her body stood rigidly. "It doesn't matter if we had good intentions or that we didn't mean for it to happened. It did, and there's nothing we can do to change that!"

"So this is the part where you say that it was a big mistake and then tomorrow we'll just awkwardly pretend it never happened, right?" His face was unreadable. "I still don't understand the problem."

She paused. "It's complicated."

He nodded. "I'd expect it to be. You drink the night away, and then invite me to hop into bed with you all the while knowing that you have quite a bit of emotional baggage. Yeah, I'd say it's complicated."

"I didn't invite you!" she spat.

"Sure did." He grinned. "Good thing I stopped us both." Tired, she sunk into his couch, "Damn you."

He smiled a humorless smile. "You made me drink the night away too."

"I can't believe this."

"Believe it, Max. It happened."

She narrowed her eyes. "And how the hell can you just stand there and act like we're talking about the goddamn weather?"

He looked stunned. "Because it's not a big deal! I'm not expecting a relationship or anything like that. I'm not expecting anything more, you should know that."

"You are some piece of work, you know that?"

His eyes darkened slightly. "Listen, I didn't make you do anything. So if you're going to yell at anyone, yell at the person who made you sit at that bar all night." She raised her head up and stared at the ceiling.

He stared at the ground. "So am I just a horrible person, now?" he joked quietly.

She shook her head, feeling pity for him. She knew that it really wasn't his fault. And that it really had little to do with him. It was about Zack. Always about Zack. Staring at the man in front of her, she couldn't help but wonder if . . . if she hadn't ever gotten involved with anyone else . . . maybe it would've been nice to have something normal. No idealistic saving the world, no hiding in fear of being abandoned by her brother. Just a nice normal guy. "No, Pat. You were never a horrible person. You're a pretty decent one, actually."

He chuckled a bit. "Well, do you always yell at decent guys?"

"I'm sorry." "So am I."

"Now what?"

He looked straight into her eyes. "I guess we part ways," and then he smiled, "Until the morning shift at the restaurant, that is."

She smiled for the first time that night. "You always this funny?"

He shrugged, returning her smile with a lopsided grin of his own. "I wasn't aware until you just told me so."

*****

If it were any other circumstance, he would've been worried of detection. But as Zack stood amidst a mob of people in the dark, he wasn't so worried. Apparently he and Jondy weren't the only ones who noticed that there was a difference that night. The loss of electricity was a regular occurrence. Everyone was used to the struggling economy's attempt at power conservation. Electricity was harder to come by than it was twenty years ago. Each and every building had a quota, and enough juice was used up, the city would simply shut off the power temporarily. A brownout.

But this wasn't a brownout. It was a blackout. And from what he heard from the various people around him, it wasn't just Austin that was suffering. People sensed the difference, and some even panicked. As he made his way through the streets, he saw children and adults alike, looting. Young and old hands alike were grabbing anything and everything.

The sector point came into view, heavily guarded. Zack counted at least a dozen armed men, none of them letting any of the mobs through.

"But I need to get out of here!" The shrill voice of a middle aged woman cried out.

"You don't understand ma'am. Everything will be back to full in twenty-four hours." An armed officer pushed her back gently.

"No, you don't understand! My twelve year old daughter is at home by herself! You have to let me through!"

"I'm sorry, we can't do that." Zack heard a click in his ear and activated the link. "Here."

"Hey." Her voice was a bit tense, but not as hostile as before. "It looks like everyone is trying to get outta town, but the got Williamson locked down tight. No one is getting out of here tonight. The sector police has got tasers, Zack. Tasers. And they're using them. I heard some guy taking about how the linking grid-system broke down. Generators were damaged and--"

"Overloaded the power plants, which then shut themselves off automatically."

"Yeah."

Zack sighed. It really looked as if he wasn't going to get home until tomorrow.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, let's check the third point though."

He could hear her grumble on the other line. "Aye aye, Mr. Stick-In-The-Mud."

It was three in the morning, yet there were hundreds, maybe even thousands on people loitering around on the streets. Many were carrying flashlights. There were even some who were mugging for flashlights. All of them were there to get out of the gloomy city, himself included. But it looked like no one was getting through, same as everywhere else. When Zack reached the sector point, Jondy was already there since he was on foot and she wasn't. She didn't see him, but he saw her talking to a sector police, which he noted with displeasure. He waited until they were done before approaching her. "What do you think you were doing? Compromising our position?"

She looked at him, deadpanned. "I'm sorry, oh master, I won't speak to another human being for as long as I live." She shook her head and mumbled, "Position my ass."

"What was that?"

"We're not at Manticore anymore, and this is not some drill, Zack. Chill out. It's not like I flashed the guy my barcode or anything. I was just talking."

"To a sector police," he snapped.

Jondy sighed. "They're not all bad. Lou has a daughter in college overseas, and a wife and dog. All of which costs money. Therefore . . . job. People have jobs, Zack."

He adverted his eyes from hers and changed the subject. "What did you find out?"

"Riots all over this city. This blackout spans about five-thousand square miles. People are panicking and breaking into anything and everything. That's why they bumped up security. Austin PD is running low on men, and the prisons are filling up fast. But thankfully, a lot of the hospitals around here have back-up generators. All in all, they're not letting anyone out of here tonight."

"Me included."

She looked sideways at him. "Yeah. But daybreak is only a few hours a way. Can't be as bad for you as it is for me."

He looked at her curiously, "What do you mean?"

"I'm the one that has to spend it with you." She smirked. She pulled at his sleeve. "C'mon, let's get back to my place. I hate having all these people eye my bike like wolves in front of a piece of meat. You ride in back though."

The corner of Zack's mouth quirked up a bit. In her special way, that meant that Jondy had forgiven him for their earlier spat. "Fine." They rode back to her loft in silence. Zack didn't talk because, honestly, he was afraid of pissing her off again. Jondy didn't say anything because she didn't want to spoil their truce. She knew that one of them was bound to say something that got the other one pissed off.

They wordless climbed the fire escape, avoiding the swarm of people that collected at the entrance of her building. Jondy and Zack took extra pains to haul her bike up in the dark. Finally secured in her loft, they both collapsed on the brown couch, exhausted.

"Wasted a whole night with you." She poked at Zack's ribs.

"Wasn't no picnic for me neither."

She pretended to look offended, but got no reaction out of Zack. "You know, bro, you're a real downer."

"Sorry."

She sighed. "You're not supposed to apologize. You're supposed to say--" she lowered her voice so it resembled Zack's deeper one, "Well, you're flaky!"

"But you're not flaky."

She smiled. "Thanks. You still don't get it."

"Get what? And what's wrong with you of all of a sudden? Been drinking Zane's merchandise?"

"Why do you always have to bring that up? We aren't sleeping together." She sighed. "You know, Zack, don't you ever get tired of being you? Being all introverted and withdrawn? How are you ever going to experience anything wonderful if you're always like this?"

"Like what?"

She threw him a sharp look and slapped him upside the head. "Like how you always bitch and moan whenever we do something that doesn't please you. Whenever we try to achieve some sort of normalcy, you screw it all up."

He automatically touched the back of his head to make sure she didn't draw any blood. "I don't know how to be anyone else."

She sat back, frustrated. "I'm in love, Zack."

He looked at her skeptically. "Who?"

"Who else?" she huffed, poised to hit him again, "Zane, you idiot."

He decided not to mention the fact that she had said she hadn't been sleeping with Zane a moment ago. "Jondy, I'm sick of the head games. Just tell me what you want me to know, and I'll believe it."

She dropped her arm and fell back next to him. "You know the truth."

"Then why pulled the whole 'we're not sleeping together' routine with me? Krit obviously knows, and a few others too, huh?"

"Yeah," she admitted, and then smiled. "At first, we didn't know how you'd react. If you'd indulge in your homicidal impulses and kill us. But you're smart, you knew. And you didn't seem to care. So it got kinda fun."

"It was annoying," he corrected.

"It got a rise out of you, though."

"You don't respect me."

She was taken aback, a bewildered expression written clearly on her face. "What makes you say that?" "It's the truth, isn't it?"

She shook her head. "Of course not. I respect you . . . we all do. Honest. You're just hard to get along with sometimes. I'm sorry."

"For what?"

She half sighed. "I don't know. Just accept it, okay?"

He was still digesting the information. "Are you sure, Jondy? About you and Zane? There's a lot at risk here."

She chuckled. "We aren't planning to call up Lou and confessed anytime soon."

Zack looked uncomfortable. "I didn't mean that," he paused, picking the delicate order of his words. "Things will change between you two. And it depends on whether you're both ready for that change. If you're not, it will screw a lot of things up. What if you want different things? What if one of you isn't ready to give the other what they need. If you're not ready for that, it will screw everything up miserably."

Jondy looked dumbfounded. "When did you get so touchy-feely?"

He didn't answer.

She leaned back. "You don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to. But don't worry about me and Zane. We know what we're doing. Everything you just said there and more, we've thought about. A million times already. I'm willing to risk it," she admitted softly. "I'd rather end up with heartbreak than nothing at all."

"Why?"

"Life's short. Of all people, I know that very well. What's the point of living if there's always a degree of caution hanging above our heads? I'd wake up on some random morning and wonder to myself how I ever managed to live before I felt this way. And I guess the truth is, that I never did. So if I die tomorrow, at least I can say that I'll die happy. And that's worth more than fifty years of living in a safe cage."

"That sounds . . . really nice."

"It is. Don't worry so much about me, Zack. I'll be fine." She gathered up enough courage to slide her arm around his shoulders. "I love ya, big brother."

"Likewise."

She laughed. "You can't say it, can you?"

"I can say it," he trailed off. "But it loses impact whenever I do."

"Huh?"

"Never mind, don't worry about it."

*****

San Bernardino - December 30, 2024

*****

He was glad to be back in the land of palm trees and sand, not cactus and sand. After a grueling day of travel, he finally got back. He found himself walking along familiar streets, going into the familiar building, weaving in familiar hallways. He nearly jumped when a small toy car smacked against his foot, which goes to show how distracted he really was. He picked up the small plastic red truck, and more out of habit than anything else, he quickly did a once-over to make sure there was nothing sinister amidst.

"Hey mister, can I have that back?" A small boy poked his head out an apartment across the hall.

Zack stared at the toy that he was still holding and handed it over to its owner.

"Sorry it scared ya, mister."

"It didn't scare me." It had caught him by surprise. There was a difference.

Nodding goodbye, he continued down the hallway, heading towards Max's familiar apartment. His impending visit with her didn't do much to soothe his nerves. His nervousness was due to a realization. A realization that--if he decided to act upon it--would . . . well, things would just never be the same again. He didn't want things to change. He liked the way things used to be, but they weren't at that point anymore. They were floating in a vacant sea, not starting a new adventure, but not reaching a destination either.

Inside, his eyes quickly scanned over the area, taking in each minute detail. The slight scent of lemony bar soap wafted to his nose. Piles of damp clothes hung next to the sink, some on the counter. Lying next to it was a bar of Coast. She had just done the laundry. The coffee table was still fourteen inches from the couch; the bathroom door was ajar. Just the way Max liked it. He was exhausted from the trip home, and it wasn't entirely physical. He found himself in front of the bedroom door. Maybe she was sleeping.

Sure enough, as he gently touched the door, it revealed her thin frame, lying motionless on the blue cotton blanket. Not sleeping, but staring at the ceiling. She heard the sound of his footstep, but remained motionless. "You're back," she stated. A part of her wondered why she didn't jump into his arms right away. Another part wondered why he didn't either.

"Yeah, I'm back," he needlessly stated.

"Have a nice trip? Took you longer than you said."

"Yeah, I got held up."

She turned to look at him. The look in her eyes told him that something was weighing heavily on her mind. "I figured it was something like that." And she turned away. The look wasn't gone though.

"Sorry about keeping you waiting."

"It's okay." She looked at him; her face had an undecipherable emotion written on it. He used to be so good at reading her. Zack remained where he was, and she didn't hold out her hand to him like she always did. "Did you have fun?" She tried her best to smile, as if she was making a joke, and maybe she was.

"As much fun as can be expected." He returned her grin momentarily before finding himself helpless with nothing to do or say to her. She turned back over on her back and stared at the ceiling, effectively dismissing any further conversation. He wondered if she was sick, but immediately threw that thought out the window, because he knew that she never got sick. Coldness radiated practically radiated from her demeanor. He found himself bracing for whatever was to come.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah."

"Can you sit down?"

Zack instinctively knew that it wasn't going to be good news. He nodded and seated himself nearby, in a chair. He didn't think he'd be very comfortable sitting with her on the bed. His shoulders squared instinctively, unconsciously. "So what is this about?"

For the briefest of moments, the ice cracked and she hesitated. He caught it, but remained still. "Zack . . . whatever happens, I want you to know that I'm sorry and that I didn't intend to ever hurt you."

"That's some buildup," he muttered warily.

"Zack. . . ."

He looked up to see her eyes pleading with him. The ice had totally melted. "I'm sorry, I won't interrupt you anymore."

She stopped, mulling over something. Worry planted its seed in his stomach and he found himself getting more and more tense with every passing second. "I went to that club down on fifty-seventh. And well, I met someone there and we ended up at his place--"

"You slept with him?" Zack asked evenly.

She shook her head adamantly, "No, we kissed. That's all." Her voice was quiet and filled with regret. She hastily looked up to gauge his reaction. "I'm so sorry, Zack. It just happened." "You know what? So am I."

She didn't answer.

Time stood still for him as he stared at her, emotionless. Disbelief was his initial reaction. He was even ready to outwardly deny it. But he held himself back, and like a good soldier, he bit his tongue and meticulously ran through the whole scenario. Despite the dozens of times he replayed the conversation, the only this that stuck was her painful expression and the words that kept repeating in his mind over and over in a loop. Some extra words managed to sneak themselves in as well. Words like "betrayal" and "hurt" circled and whirled in his mind in endless reels.

"Zack, say something," she pleaded. He didn't utter a word as he got up and left the room. She jumped up from her place on the bed just as fast and followed him. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him back with unbelievable strength. "Zack."

"What do you want from me? I did everything right, I followed all the rules, and you still have to punish me?" he spat.

"Zack, I don't understand why you are making a big deal--"

"Are you going to tell you that it was a mistake, and that you didn't mean for me to get hurt? Or better yet, were you in heat? You couldn't help yourself, right? Because there is no way that you can just do this to me. Well too late to say any of that, Max." He inched away from her, slowly. Her hand was still clutching his dark sleeve.

"I can't tell you how sorry I am. I just--"

"Then don't tell me. I don't want to hear it."

"Don't do this."

"Don't do what?" He threw each word out forcibly. "Don't get mad? Don't pretend that this isn't the worst this you could've done?"

"It was only one time. . . ."

He fought back the need to cough as his lungs struggle for air. He hadn't even realized that he had stopped breathing. "Don't you get it, Max?" He raised his voice slightly, starting to lose the control that he had reigned in so closely before. "It's not just what you did. It's the fact that you did it. And it's what it represented. I gave up so much of myself for you, and you betrayed my trust." He jerked his arm away, only to have her grab it again.

Her eyes never wavered. "What's worse? To betrayed your trust? Or to lie to you? Because that's what I've been doing. Whenever you asked me if I was 'all right?' You know what I should've said? I should of said 'No! I'm not!' But I lied."

"What's the truth, then?"

"It *was* a mistake. I know that! And the last time I ever wanted was for you to get hurt. But you want to know the truth, Zack? I *knew* it was stupid. I *knew* it would ruin everything, but I did it anyways. Because I didn't care!" "So this is my fault? I drove you to this?"

"No! I'm just so confused."

"You know what you are, Max? You are still stuck in Seattle. You are still stuck in Seattle with him." She looked wounded. "Don't you dare bring him into this."

"Why not? Why don't we just admit it and quit deluding ourselves? Was I that much of a horrible replacement? Was I that inadequate that you had to go off and sleep with someone else? You're still in love with him. You *want* him."

"A part of me will always love Logan. But he's dead, Zack," she said quietly, tensely. "Dead."

"Didn't change anything."

"Do you really think you were just some replacement? Do you honestly think that I would use you like that?"

"I don't know what to think," he admitted.

Her composure was crumbling and she knew it. It was still a sore subject for her. "I screwed up! I know that! And you'll probably never forgive me, but don't you think for one minute that this has anything to do with Logan."

He looked incredulous. "It has everything to do with Logan!"

"How can you say that? I need *you*, Zack. I've spent this last year with you."

"That just it!" He looked away, darkly staring at the walls. "You *need* me. But you know what? You don't *want* me. And that's why this thing was doomed from the beginning."

"You're wrong," she stated evenly.

"I'm not. Think about it, Max. This past year, all I've every heard was that you needed me. Never once had you said you wanted me. And the truth is, you don't. Maybe I've always known that there would come a point when you wouldn't need me anymore, and that would be the day I would never see you again." His expression was sad, almost as if he had accepted that as their fate.

She was speechless. With a grunt, he pivoted and continued towards the door.

An alarm went off in her head, out of nowhere, she found her voice and it came out sharp and terse. "Where are you going? We are not done here. You can't just run away from this like you always run away from your problems!" She grabbed his arm.

"Leave me alone!" He tore his arm away from her.

"Stop! Don't you want to know, to get some peace of mind? God, talk to me . . . please."

"Talk? You think that talking will make everything goddamn better again?" He shook his head in disbelief, and reached for the door.

"It'd be better than what we have now." He paused at the door. "And what do we have?"

"I don't know."

"Goodbye, Max." He shut the door softly behind him.

She crumbled to the ground, unsure if it was the last time she would ever see him.

*****

The soft orange hills rolled in soft waves over the barren land. It was almost dusk. New Year's Day. Except for this time, he wouldn't be there to console her. The uneven ground at his feet was cracked and dry. There were various patches of yellow grass that stuck out to obstruct his path, but none of it did anything to slow his stride. He was getting the hell out of there, finally. He finally had enough guts to leave her. His Max.

And he wasn't coming back because every time he came back, she would find a new reason to make him stay. And he'd stay too. The previously non-existent wind started to whip at his back, urging him to increase his pace. And he complied.

But there was a small voice in the back of his mind, and it was quickly taking over his thoughts. It was her voice, her soft warm voice. Taunting him. It was telling him how much of a coward he was. How often he just ran away when things were too hard for him. He told it to shut the hell up. But it persisted nonetheless, and he started to believe the things it was telling him.

*****

Seattle - January 1, 2022

*****

The ninja purred as he gently increased the pressure on the accelerator. The wind and rain whipped at his face, tearing at his face relentlessly until he was too numb and red to be in any discomfort. He knew that patience was a virtue, one that he possessed. He had always tightly reined in every impulse, but at that moment, he let the reins go. Momentarily tensing up, he angrily shoved his foot onto the accelerator, listening to the low growl of the cycle. He was careful enough to not lose control and swerve on the slick pavement. His body adjusted to the change effortlessly, but he didn't take the time to be pleased with himself. He was too worried about her.

Arriving at his destination, he killed the engine and bolted towards the gray building with nothing on his mind except for the stray thought that she would kill him if she knew that he had left her bike in a ditch. His hollow footsteps pounded against the rain glistened pavement. He entered the building virtually undetected. Relatively easy, since every soldier on guard was either dead or dying from internal bleeding. He knew that it was the work of her hands. The few that were there fled in his presence, not wanting to relive the massacre that had only taken place mere moments ago. They knew who he was and what he was capable of.

The various corridors were a blur of brown to him as he sprinted. A panic started to tear at his gut. There was that unpleasant feeling . . . that he was too late. He took note of the crimson splatters on the wall. The owners of the blood were nowhere to be seen. Rounding what he knew to be the last hallway, he finally saw her in a holding cell--or a small lab in the chemical plant that was used as a holding cell. A few dismembered men lay lifeless on the ground--subordinates. Amongst them was a man that he knew too well. The crisp smell of death assaulted his nose, affecting him on so many infinite levels. He knew that he'd never be able to forget the stench. He didn't need to turn to corpse over to know who it was. Lydecker. His head was twisted around in a bizarre angle. He must have died instantly. Zack felt none of the sick joy that he had anticipated feeling, had the opportunity come up. Instead, he just was indifferent to it all, maybe a little disgusted. Perhaps it was shock, but he knew the symptoms of shock. But then, maybe--despite everything he'd been taught--death wasn't something to relish in. Not even if Satan himself was the one lying in a pool of his own crimson blood. She sat there; silent unchecked tears brimming in her eyes. But she didn't let them fall. She looked relatively unscathed, compared to the rest of the room, although he noticed that she was being especially careful with her left arm. It was probably broken. She was stroking his face. His lifeless face.

"Max."

She didn't respond. She just blankly stared ahead.

"Max." He repeated, although he made no move towards her.

She focused her gaze onto the man in front of her. "He knew. He knew this was going to happen, but I didn't want to believe it. I let it happen. I killed him."

Purposely ignoring her words, Zack grabbed her good arm firmly and tried to pull her to her feet. "We have to go, Max. There's nothing left for you here." The tears fell as she violently shook her head and snatched her arm away. Zack let her go, but remained where he was. He wished that he was able to give comfort, but no words were coming to mind. In a situation like this, it was impossible to find solace in anything. "The cavalry will be combing this place in a few hours at most. We have to get out," he insisted. "He's dead, Zack!" Zack stared at Logan's dull lifeless eyes. The clear blues were stained with yellow. "I know." He knew he was harsh, but he didn't know any other way to be. He tried to move her again, but she was intent on remaining where she was. "I killed him."

"Stop saying that! You did everything you could--"

"Except it wasn't good enough," she interrupted.

"You didn't kill him," Zack looked over at Lydecker's body, and then to the semi-automatic lying next to him, "He did."

Her eyes glazed over, as if she was transporting herself to another time and place. "We were investigating a guy that dealt PCP. Logan also thought that Stanton Chemicals was selling ether, an ingredient in phencyclidine. So we get here, and it turns out to be a goddamned ambush." She spat it out bitterly. "It wasn't supposed to be like this! It was just a run-of-the-mill retrieval op." She laughed sardonically in spite of herself, knowing that they had always been taught that nothing was out of the realm of possibility. "He died protecting me, you know. And I couldn't even return the favor."

"It's not your fault."

Her eyes held a tint of nostalgia. "That's what he said."

"He was right." Zack noticed how her eyes darkened when he referred to Logan in past tense.

She finally snapped out of whatever trance she was in. "I didn't call you hear to chat. I need you to help me get him out. I can't carry him through the woods with a broken arm. He doesn't deserve to stay in this shit-hole." Her gaze drifted from him to Lydecker across the room. Still dead.

Zack nodded. "Okay. But let me brace that arm for you."

She shook her head. "I can do it myself. Just worry about Logan." She quickly glanced around the room and snapped off a table leg with her good arm.

With Logan carefully heaved over one shoulder, Zack picked up a discarded glock. He took out the cartridge and checked to see how many bullets it had left. Enough. They both quickly left the building and snuck into the nearby woods. Max covered their tracks.

A few hours later, they made it back to Logan's place. Bling was noticeably upset, and together, he and Max consoled each other for days afterwards. Her eyes soon became haunted, often staring off, only to be jolted back to the painful reality she built for herself. Zack had once asked her how if felt to kill Lydecker. She told him that it felt horrible. Revenge wasn't sweet at all.

In time, Max returned to a semblance of her old self. He tried to get her out of Seattle, but she was adamant on staying. Something about carrying on Logan's memory. And for a while, she continued on with Logan's crusade. But somewhere along the line, she had changed. Slowly, but surely, she withdrew from everyone and everything. Except for him. She diligently checked in every week, just as he had asked. On the outside, everything had seemed normal . . . except for the one day a year that she'd crack. January first. New Year's Day. The day Logan died.

And still, on that horrible day, she came to him for solace.

*****

San Bernardino - Jan 1, 2025

*****

He gulped some of the sweet and salty air, and turned around. Fighting the wind; the patches of yellow grass; and the dry, cracked, uneven ground.

*****

The soft click of the front door aroused Max from her light sleep. She immediately jumped up, knowing that there was only one other person that was ever in her place. She quickly opened the door of her bedroom and looked out to see a sullen Zack. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon . . . or ever, for that matter." She tentatively walked closer to him.

He didn't look at her, just rubbed his eyes. "I've just been walking around, trying to sort everything out."

"Any luck?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

With a lofty amount of discomfort, she managed to whisper, "I'm so sorry."

He finally raised his head to look at her. "Why did you do it?" he asked softly.

Her eyes cast towards to ground, "I guess I was stupid and I acted stupid."

"That's not an answer."

"I know." She shook her head. "I betrayed you. I did the dumbest thing possible. How can I possibly give you an adequate excuse? There just isn't one."

He remained silent.

"What are we going to do?"

He shook his head, clearing out all his jumbled thoughts. "I don't know." The air between them was thick with tension.

Out of nowhere, he murmured, "You know what's even worse, Max?" She shook her head. "What's worse is that we even let it get to the point where something like this can happen." He paused. "We both screwed up pretty bad."

"I know," she agreed, "Things haven't been good for a while. Actually, I don't even know if they've ever been really good." She sat up, hands in her lap. "I guess we couldn't have expected for them to be, given the circumstances, but . . . well, I didn't expected this." She tried to get a feel for was he was thinking, but she couldn't see his face.

"And what's 'this'?" he asked quietly.

"You know what it is."

He looked at her. "Yeah, but I want to hear you say it."

She looked away, staring at some obscure object, thinking of a reply. "I wasn't happy."

His gaze on her remained steady. "I used to think you were. I used to think I was too."

The eyes that stared back at him were suspiciously bright, "When did you figure out that you were wrong?" she choked out.

He leaned back a little, looking reflective. "I thought we're were fine before I left. But, I don't know, I guess I realize that it wasn't supposed to be this way when I talked to Jondy."

Her ears perked up. Zack never mentioned any of the others by name before. He always kept that part of his life separate. "And what did she say?"

His smile was bittersweet. "She's in love. Really in love, and the way she described it . . . it made me want that. And then I realize that to want it . . . would mean that I didn't have it. And I thought I did."

"I think you were right when you said that I was still stuck in Seattle," she noted the way his gaze on her flinched, "but not that way you think. I never really came to terms with what happened. I never sorted it out. When I left, I knew that Logan was gone forever and that I needed to move on. But I don't think I ever did it. I wasn't in love with him anymore. I just missed loving him." She looked at him with a million emotions flashing through her eyes, hoping to get him to look at her. "It was never you against him, Zack. I hope you know that."

"Yeah." The word had as much conviction as a rock.

"Believe it, Zack." She said. "I loved Logan . . . so much. I'll admit that. He taught me the pureness and selflessness of love. And I gave him everything. I didn't think there was anything left of me when he died. But then you came and you saved me from myself. Don't you understand, Zack? With you, I discovered that not everything is black and white and clear-cut. With you, it's amazing because I don't feel like the only person in this universe."

"What do you feel, Max? Because Logan still looks like he's coming out ahead," he managed a weak smile.

"I feel . . . incredibly lucky. Because out of everyone in this universe, you chose me to reveal yourself to. I *know* you, Zack. And I'm very aware of your imperfections, and mine too. But it didn't matter to me. It never did. Logan put me on a pedestal, but you brought me down to reality. And I'm grateful for that." That earned her a small grin. She nodded.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn't scare easily, but sitting there in the middle of the afternoon, across from the person that held the most power over . . . it scared the shit out of him. His chest heaved with painfully, his fingers tightly closed over his palm, holding in every last bit of control. "Can I ask you something? And can you promise me that you'll answer truthfully, without sparing my feelings?" His tortured eyes tore themselves away from his clenched hands and looked up to see her brown frightened gaze.

She hesitated, fearing what he was about to ask. She had sat quietly, witnessing how he agonizingly tried to keep his composure. And she hoped against all hope that he would, because--selfishly--she didn't think she would be able to bear seeing his pain. "Yes," she hoarsely croaked out, awaiting the inevitable.

"It's about Logan . . . uh--" he faltered, which terrified her all the more because Zack was never less than absolutely precise. "Do you still love him?" He didn't know why he had to torture himself like that. It was painfully clear who would come out on top. Who would always come out on top. He just needed to hear her say it. Maybe then he would have enough strength to push her away.

Her eyes darted away from his, and fell instinctively on her wallet. He knew that she kept a picture in there. Logan's picture. She nervously exhaled a shaky breath, "Yes, I still love him."

That was all he needed to hear. But it hurt nonetheless.

"Zack, look at me."

He did as he was commanded, gazing upon her saddened visage. A second passed. And then another. Finally, she spoke softly, "I'll admit, a part of me will always love him. But if you ask me if I would still be with him if he was still alive, I would have to say no." She chuckled softly at Zack's mildly shocked expression because that was all he allowed her to see. "A lot of me has changed these past few years. It doesn't ache when I think of him anymore. I don't feel saddened with the happy memories I have of him. I can look back and smile, at a happy moment in time. I'm not the same Max anymore." She paused. "You are the love of my life, Zack. You always will be. Logan will always have a place inside of me, but so do you."

He nodded carefully, not trusting himself to do anything else.

She smiled wistfully. "And you're going to leave me now, aren't you?" Somehow, she already knew the answer. "Max--" he whispered, his voice thickly laden with sorrow.

"Don't worry," she interrupted. "I'm not going to scream and stop you this time." He must have looked surprised because she elaborated. "I understand." And she really did too. Since the beginning, they were brought together by pain, and that was no beginning.

"And I'm ready to really go this time."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. It had always been her who held him back. "Really?"

He shrugged slightly. "Believe it, or not, I needed you just as much as you needed me. We were both just needy."

"I think you're right," she paused, "Even when Logan was alive, I was so dependent on him. He made me feel so special and normal . . . and I didn't even realize how much I had gotten used to it until it was gone." The both looked at each other, "When he was killed, I took it so hard. I couldn't help but think that it was my fault somehow." "Max, you know it wasn't," he protested.

"I know that now. But then, I was so far gone. I didn't care if I was being irrational. And then you brought me back, Zack. You made it better." She took in a shaky breath.

"I might've had good intentions, but then how did it go wrong?" His anguished gaze penetrated into a deep previously unreachable part of her. And to her disappointment, she learned that she really didn't have the adequate answer that he deserved.

"Maybe the timing was off. I needed someone so badly, and you were there. Maybe we were with each other because of convenience." It pained her to trivialize what they had like that, but it was more or less true.

He shook his head vehemently, his expression was bleak and his gray eyes were dull. "I don't think that's it. But I do think that we wanted entirely different things. I failed you, Max. I couldn't give you what you needed and it ruined everything."

"You're wrong." She gingerly picked up his hand. "You gave me everything back. Everything I thought I lost."

He looked at her desperately. "Then tell me. What happened? How did we end up like this?"

"I can't give you a definite answer." She held his gaze, trying to convey her sincerity, "I don't even know myself. What I do know is that there was a time when I needed you. When you were my whole world. Maybe that was the problem. My life revolved around you, and I forgot who I was." Her eyes held none of the life and vivaciousness that he once saw in them.

He opened his mouth to speak, ready to utter ever apology that he could grasp. After all, wasn't it his fault? Maybe he smothered her. Or maybe he wasn't supportive enough.

"Don't go there, Zack. It's not your fault, don't even think for one second that it ever was."

He nodded. She knew him too well. "You're ready to remember again. What it was like to be by yourself." He didn't dare use the word 'alone' because he knew that she would never truly be alone, not if he could help it.

She looked thoughtful. "I hope so."

"And you can't do it with me around."

"No." She fidgeted with their adjourned hands. "I need to learn how to be by myself for awhile, to get back what I lost." She grinned at him and poked him on his shoulder. "And you need to learn how to take care of Zack, and not everyone else." She looked down. "I just hope that you can forgive me someday."

"I already have." He saw her surprised expression. "You're not the only who messed up here. I did too. I was selfish, Max. I kept you all to myself, and honestly, I didn't have one good reason to. I guess I gave you no choice but to need me. I'm sorry for that."

She didn't entirely agree with him, but chose to not argue. "It doesn't matter. What's past is past. We learn from it and move on."

"Easier said that done."

"Tell me about it," she muttered.

"What am I going to do without you?" He softly squeezed her hand. It was hard to imagine waking up the next morning, and not seeing her angelic face staring back at him. But for her sake, he would.

She laughed. "You'll manage. The question is, what am I going to do without you?" There was a pause. "I love you, Zack. I honestly do."

He smiled briefly. "But no matter how much we love each other, it's not enough, is it?"

"Not right now."

"Someday then, maybe?"

"I'll mark it on my calendar."

"I'll look forward to that day. If it comes."

Here eyes were bright with unshed tears as he stood up. She followed suit. "So this is it? This is the end? Are we ever going to see each other again?" she inquired softly.

"I don't know. I guess we'll just have to see." They stood there, awkwardly.

"This is one shitty happy ending." She smiled ruefully.

Zack dug through his pockets and fished out a crumpled piece of paper, handing it to her. "Jondy's number," he explained. "She'll give you the others' location."

"Everyone?"

"Just about."

"Thanks," she whispered. Slowly, she encircled her arms around her and just as slowly, she raised her head. Zack stared down at the familiar brown eyes and raised her chin. The kiss was soft, chaste even. It was different from all their other kisses, but in some way, it was almost a compilation of them all. It wasn't a kiss that promised new and better things to come. It was goodbye. They slowly broke away and she let the tears fall. Resting her forehead against his, she stared at ground. "God, I'll miss you."

"I love you." He finally pulled away, tearing his eyes from her. With a slight smile, he moved towards the door. "Bye, Max." He stared at her, trying to imprint everything about her into his memory. But he already knew that he would never forget a single thing about her. With a final smile, he turned around, closed the door behind him, and walked out of her life. Whether it was forever or not, was up to fate. "Take care of yourself."

And for the first time in a long time, Max found herself truly alone, unsure of what to do on New Year's Day this time around. For the first time, she didn't completely panic. A glistening tear slid down her cheek, and then another. Soon it wasn't just one or two tears, but a continuous stream. A shudder went through her as she realized that it was the end. And this time, she wouldn't have the luxury of starting over. She knew that she wasn't the first one to suffer from heartbreak. She had already gone through it once and many have gone through it before her. It didn't lessen the pain any less, though. And then all of a sudden, she realized that she could conquer her feelings and her grief. No matter how deeply they ran. Because she knew that no matter how much it stung at that moment, it would hurt a million times more had she not love him so much. She would rather suffer infinite heartaches than to not feel anything at all. She loved him, and it transcended everything. She would rather live with the pain of her love for him than to not live with it at all.

She never knew that this was what heartbreak meant. It was supposed to be a love doomed, or a love unrequited. Yet it was neither of those. What they had just wasn't enough. It meant something, but it consumed too much of them.

Perhaps someday, it wouldn't hurt as much. And maybe it wouldn't make her cry. And when that day came, the day when she would be able to live without him, he'd come back to her. But if fate didn't allow it, then at least she would be able to live.

She stared at the door, and then at the empty room, "Bye, Zack."

***** End

Notes: Oh, it tore me up to bits and pieces writing that ending.

I'll try to keep it brief. Since this question might be asked, I'll answer it now and save us all a bunch of trouble. "Why is Logan dead? I thought you didn't know who died in Defeated." Well, the truth is . . . I changed my mind. That's really all there is to it. I thought about and some very nice people even mailed me to 'gently' point out every miniscule reason why it absolutely HAD to be Logan.

Thanks to The Inimitable Pooh_Bah for beta'ing a sizable chunk of this sucker, and to limona for discussing and influencing the plot (and for letting me borrow her Jondy). Thank you, guys. Hope the wait wasn't too long. (ha!)

Lastly, I apologize for the repeated use of the "L" word. ;)