The
rain slicked streets of Seattle blurred around her as Max revved up
her
black Ninja. She wove easily around the burned out hulks of abandoned
cars,
her face knit into a frown. It had been a few days since she had heard
from
Logan. Max had been so busy that she hadn't given Logan's silence a
second
thought. But earlier, at the bar, she had seen the reports of a
strange
flu-like virus spreading through the city. The gears in her amazing
mind
clicked a few times and then she was up and out the door, ignoring
Original
Cindy's call from across the room.
Now, as Max raced across the city, she fought a tinge of guilt. What
if
something had happened to Logan? He had more than a few enemies when
she
met him, and their numbers seemed to be growing by leaps and bounds.
And
the
virus on the news, it was nasty. The reporter had said people were
dropping
like flies. Max berated herself, blaming her own preoccupation that
had
led her to completely forget about Logan. As she urged even more speed
out
of
her Ninja, she whispered under her breath, "Please be OK, Logan, please
be
OK."
Five minutes later Max pulled up in front of Logan's building. She
parked
quickly and ran for the door, stiff armed it open and was in the
elevator
before the doorman had even made it out of his seat. The elevator
seemed
to take forever, crawling up through the innards of the building. Max
tapped
her foot impatiently, shifting her weight from one hip to the other.
Finally,
the doors slid open to the penthouse. Max leaped across the
hallway
and knocked heavily on the door.
"Logan? Logan! It's me, Max. Open the door."
She waited a moment. Knocked again, harder. Nothing.
Pressing her ear against the door, Max focused intently, letting
instinct
take over. She heard Logan breathing inside, but he sounded strange.
Raspy
and irregular.
Max took a step back from the door, "Last chance Logan, open the
door.....or
I'll do it for you!". She cocked her head, listening.
"OK, here I come."
One well placed kick later, Max was inside. She headed down the dark
hallway,
her eyes adjusting automatically to the lack of light. As she
entered
the living room she scanned left, then right. There, almost
hidden
behind the couch, was a huddled form. Logan.
Max dropped to her knees next to Logan, turning him onto his back.
His
breath rattled in his throat, and his face was deeply flushed. Max
laid
her hand across his forehead, gasping at the heat that came off of him in
waves.
He was burning up, unconscious.
"Logan," Max whispered, "Logan, can you hear me? It's
Max....."
He groaned and twisted in Max's arms, pushing feebly against her.
"OK, big boy, upsy-daisy," Max murmured as she scooped him up,
"let's
get
you into bed."
She carried him through the apartment, cradling him like a baby.
Logan's
eyes fluttered and he gazed up at Max.
"......Mom?" he whispered, "Oh. Mom, I'm so tired....I feel
sick."
Max smiled down at him, "It's ok, Logan. You've got a fever.
You'll
be
all better soon, I'll take care of you. Just rest now, OK?".
"....OK, Mom..."
Max kicked open the door to Logan's bedroom and laid him on the bed.
She
looked down at him, sprawled helplessly across the covers, muttering
under
his breath as he drifted in and out of unconsciousness. He was soaked
in
sweat, his clothes sticking to him. Max wrinkled her nose, she could
smell
the sickness oozing out of his pores.
"OK, big boy," she said as she lifted him again, "change of
plans. Let's
get
you cleaned up before bed. Then we'll see what you've got hidden
in
that medicine cabinet of yours."
Logan flung his arms around her neck as they entered the bathroom,
Max
juggling him with one arm as she switched on the light. She laid him
out
on the rug, started the bath water running and stripped him down. Max
paused
for a moment, considering how appalled Logan would be once he found out
what
exactly Max had done for him, "Won't you be embarrassed," she
cooed,
and
then with a giggle she scooped him up and deposited him into the bathtub.
Max washed Logan quickly, cradling his head in the crook of her
elbow.
Logan groaned and muttered under his breath, mostly gibberish, but Max
caught
a few words. Something about water...and his parents.
Max
pricked her ears, straining to hear what Logan was saying, but his
words
trailed away. Sighing, she pulled Logan from the tub and toweled him
dry.
Back in the bedroom, Max slid him into bed and pulled the covers up to
his
neck. She looked down at Logan, his wet hair sticking out in every
direction,
he looked so different without his glasses, defenseless.
Max
stroked his cheek lightly, feeling the stubble rough on her fingertips.
"Whoa, girl," Max thought, "get a hold on yourself!
First things
first."
She stepped back, took a deep breath to clear her head and trotted
off
to raid the medicine cabinet. In the bathroom Max opened the linen
closet
off
to the right of the sink, she let out a low whistle as she took stock of
Logan's
own private field hospital.
"Boy is seriously stockpiled for the next twenty years! He's got
everything
in here...guess you have to be prepared if you're gonna be a
save-the-planet-freedom-fighter-kinda-guy."
Max began to scan the
labels,
looking for anything that might help.
In the bedroom, Logan was shivering violently, tossing his head from
side
to side. Suddenly he rose up onto his elbows, his eyes darting around
the
room. He was seeing everything and yet nothing.
"....Mom? Mom, where are you?" he called mournfully,
"Mom? I need
you..."
Max trotted out of the bathroom, carrying a box full of meds and a
glass
of water. She placed the water on the nightstand and dropped the box
to
the
floor. Logan's gaze locked onto Max and relief flooded his face, he
reached
out and grasped her hand.
"Mom....thank God....what's...wrong with me? I
feel...strange."
Max looked deep into Logan's eyes, his pupils were dilated and she
knew
he wasn't seeing her at all, rather a scene from his past. She placed
a
cool
hand on his forehead and wondered how to respond. Logan gripped her
hand
tighter and pulled her down on the bed next to him.
"Mom, I had a terrible dream. We were out on the boat...you, Dad,
me
and
Gwen. We hit something and the boat started to sink. I tried to
save
you,
but everything happened so fast! Dad was trapped on board, I never saw
him
once the boat went down. It was just the three of us in the water and
the
waves were getting bigger. I gave you my life jacket and tried to keep
us
all together, but the waves...they were too powerful. You were ripped
out
of my hands and I couldn't follow you. I had to help Gwen keep her
head
above
water....help her fight the waves. She was so little, Mom, and the
surf
was so big, she was only eight years old. By morning, she was sitting
so
low
in the water...something was wrong with her life vest...it wasn't holding
her
up as well. Out of nowhere this rogue wave came up...it must've been
25
feet tall...it broke right on top of us and she was gone....."
Logan
stopped,
tears filling his eyes. Then he screamed, "But it wasn't a dream,
was
it?
It really happened, you're really gone! I couldn't save any of you!
I
tried
so hard to save you all, but I failed! Why did I survive? I
didn't
have
a life jacket, I couldn't swim as well as you...it should've been me!
I
was
left all alone!" Logan began to sob, shaking.
Max sat there stunned, she had always wondered what had happened to
Logan's
family. He would never open up to her, tell her the truth. He
always
avoided
the question. She leaned forward and gathered him into her
arms,
rocking him like a baby.
Slowly, she stroked his hair and whispered, "It's OK, Logan, you did
everything
you could. It's all right, just let it go...it's not your
fault."
Logan shook his head, "If not mine, then whose? If I couldn't
save
you,
then I should've died with you. It wasn't an hour after that bastard
wave
took Gwen that the Coast Guard arrived. We had drifted from our last
known
position, otherwise they would've been there sooner. They could've
saved
Gwen! She didn't deserve to die like that! She was so
small..."
Max held Logan tighter, she felt a lump in her throat, amazed that he
had
kept such a deep hurt bottled up inside, that he hadn't shared it with
her.
"Shhh, Logan." Max said, "It's going to be all right.
I'm here with
you,
I won't leave you all alone."
She lay him back onto the pillows and leaned over, rummaging through
the
box on the floor. She came up with a cold compress and a handful of
antibiotics.
Popping a few of the pills into Logan's mouth, she
brought
the glass of water to his lips and commanded him to drink. He choked
down
the
pills and lay back, panting. Max lay the compress across Logan's
forehead
and sat there, gazing down at him. She felt such conflicting emotions
about
Logan. Part of her needed him so badly, but another part was so
afraid.
She had been trained at Manticore to never need anyone else, that it was
weak
to need anyone. But she couldn't lie to herself much longer, Logan
filled
a
void in her that she never realized existed.
"You better not even think of dying on me, Logan Cale, or I'll bring
you
back from the dead just to kick your ass!" Max whispered fiercely, but
then
she grew more serious, "Hey God? Or Ja, Buddha, whoever is
driving the
bus
up there...please don't take this guy from me. Ok? I've had to
leave
people
behind before, and I've been left behind. But don't take this one, OK?
Please..."
Logan's breathing had evened, deepened, he was asleep. Max never
needed
to sleep, but she felt drained from worry. Lifting the covers, she
slid
into
bed next to Logan, snuggling close against him. She could still feel
the
heat coming off him, but it didn't seem as intense as it had earlier.
Max
draped her arm over Logan and closed her eyes, willing him to heal, to
recover.
A few hours had passed. Max opened her eyes to find Logan staring
down
at her with a sad look on his face, his eyes still unfocused. She
opened
her
mouth, not knowing what she was going to say, but Logan pressed his
index
finger to her lips.
"You know," he began, heaving a deep sigh, "I just don't
think this
is
going to work out. I mean, I still love you as a person, but for the
last
year, things have just gotten worse."
Max had no idea what he was talking about. A year? She had only
known
him for a few months.
"Your drinking has gotten worse and I'm afraid for us both. We
can't
go
on like this..." Logan continued.
"Oh man," Max thought, "he thinks I'm his ex!"
"I know losing the baby was especially hard on you...but I have
feelings
too. I tried to be there for you, but you just pushed me away. I
think
we should just go our separate ways."
Max slipped from the bed, reeling from the shock of his confession.
Logan
had once been a father.
"You know," she said, "I think you're right. I'll just
go now."
As Max left the room, she glanced back in time to see Logan hit the
pillows
again, out cold. She trotted into the kitchen, opened a can of soup
and
poured it into a pan. As she waited for it to heat, Max leaned against
the
counter and reflected on what a messed up day this had been. She had
found
out more about Logan in the past few hours than in the preceding four
months.
"Everyone has secrets, girl," she whispered to herself,
"don't think
you're
the only one..."
When the soup was ready, she filled a large bowl and returned to the
bedroom.
Logan was drifting in and out of consciousness, muttering to
himself.
Max sat on the edge of the bed and stuffed some pillows
behind
Logan's head. She fed him slowly, spoonful by spoonful, until the bowl
was
empty. After she cleaned him up it was time for more antibiotics.
Logan
kept talking in spurts, but it was mostly gibberish, nothing made
sense.
Max pressed the cold compress against his forehead and curled up next to
him,
waiting for something to happen...afraid for something to happen.
When Max next opened her eyes, the sun was just peeking through the
clouds.
She looked over to Logan, lying next to her, and was surprised to see
him
staring back at her. He looked so intense, she didn't know what to
think.
"You scare me," he said, "down to the depths of my soul.
I've never
known
anyone like you, and I'm afraid. But it's not what you think...I'm not
afraid
because you could kill me with one hand and not even break a
sweat.
I'm not afraid because you're not entirely human. I'm afraid because
here
you are, a highly trained, genetically altered killing machine, and
you're
here, with me, surrounded by penicillin and chicken soup. I'm afraid
because
I think you love me as much as I love you. And if I ever lost you, if
you
ever had to run from here...then I think I would die without you. I
want
to spend the rest of my life with you, and I'm afraid you'll say no..."
Max cracked half a smile, her heart swelling in her chest, daring to
hope
for a moment. But then she realized it must be the fever talking.
She
reached
for Logan's shoulder, pushing him back down to the bed.
"Get some rest, big boy, before you flame out. You're burning up
and
don't
know what you're saying..."
But Logan grabbed her hand and pressed it to his forehead.
"Feel that? I'm OK....you made sure of that. I'm completely
fine
and
I know exactly what I'm saying. I meant every word of it, Max. I
love
you
like I've never loved anyone before...and never will again. I'll love
you
forever...just stay with me, Max. There's so little joy in this world
anymore,
you have to take it where you find it...and I've found it in
you."
He leaned down and kissed her deeply, slowly. Max responded, her
arms
coming up around his neck, as she kissed him back. Logan realized that
she
was crying as she murmured against his lips...
"Yes, Logan...I'll stay with you. I love you, too. I have
since I
first
met you, I just didn't know what this feeling was. I love you,
Logan....I
love you...."
They held each other, whispering together, kissing, making plans as
the
sun slowly brightened the room. It was going to be another beautiful
day....
