DA one-shot: Retribution

The quickest way to get caught is to do something wrong in the first place. Especially when you’re Alec. There were no skeletons in his closet. First hint of a body and the truth would come crashing to the forefront and everyone (everyone being her) would immediately know and frown disapprovingly or “kick his ass” or fix his mistake or rescue his ungracious butt or something. Alec just wasn’t cut out to be a bad guy; poor man always got frickin’ caught. Secrets with him was turning into a non-issue, ‘cuz the universe kept cluing her in with or without his input; Monty Cora, his hijinks with Josh, the whole Berrisford… thing…

“Truth is relative,” He whined when she caught him in his newest dumb act.

“Truth is an absolute,” She frowned back, “Only belief is relative.”

“So stop believing I lied to you, and it’ll all be good,” He smiled in that crooked, charming way.

Yes, he’d lied, but it was for the greater good, or so he said. He’d known she’d never allow him past the barricade without her, and seeing as how she was the whole point of going out in the first place, couldn’t exactly have her tagging along. So he’d said he was going home to crash, big deal, how was he supposed to know she’d show up, looking for someone to whine at and find him gearing up to leave, instead.

It was a great fight, and he had to go and ruin it. She didn’t know how to react to his sudden, flared annoyance, his moody snarl that he was going out to get her a fucking birthday present so would she stop her bitching for two goddamn minutes? She stopped her bitching for a good three goddamn minutes before managing a soft, girly kind of really? He thought, for a moment, that she was coming down from Commander Mountain… but then she just had to go and ruin it by declaring that birthdays or no, he was not to leave T.C.

He did anyway. She caught him on his way back in. She threw a punch, he dodged and ducked around her and came back up on the other side, his arms over her shoulders, his hands around her throat, pulling back… and fastening his gift around her neck, letting it fall to rest gently against her collarbone, the small golden rune just fitting into the hollow of her throat. Her hand came up to touch it slowly, almost in wonder. And she didn’t kick his ass, because she had to go find a mirror.

But the delicate chain with the small pendant wouldn’t be enough to save him when it all came tumbling down.

It’d been a bad week to begin with. One of his contacts had turned on them, set up a trap that had gotten a few trannies injured, and some dark mutters were being directed his way. Max was angry, too, but how was it his fault? He couldn’t have known that the guy would flip, he wasn’t frickin’ psychic.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, then there was the kid. He was one of the ones rescued from a Conclave compound, one of White’s prisoners. And the teen had a problem with Alec from day one. Max watched on, but was still too annoyed by the gunplay earlier in the week to ask if he knew what junior’s problem was. Not that he’d probably tell her if he did know. Didn’t matter, because, like she said, these things had a way of revealing themselves whether she wanted them to or not.

Little punk ass had gotten surly with her S.I.C. again, and Max had finally turned and snapped, “Look, kid, you got a problem with him, or what?”

Maybe she had just wanted to get it over with.

“Yes, I’ve got a problem with him,” The young blonde would snap back, and his eyes would swing back to Alec, tight with loathing. “I never forget a face,”

Alec’s apparently unforgettable face was bland. “You tryin’ to scare me, kid?” Like he was above fear, above anything that little punk could try and throw at him. Maybe he n’ Max were more similar than she liked to admit, cuz Alec’s face was still steely as he said, “Why don’t you just come out and say it? Get it over with.”

In retrospect, Max would wonder if he was just tired. Tired of waiting for the next hammer to fall, the next blow to his life. Maybe he’d just wanted to be done with it all… After the problems earlier in the week, her cold silence… maybe the kid was just the icing on the cake. Maybe he’d been looking for the excuse to start over, a way to escape, a way to end the rollercoaster ride that was their relationship.

Command was silent now, waiting. Max was waiting too, and her face was just as impassive as his, but inside… inside… No, not another one, another truth coming to life, another wrench in the works. Alec’s contact turning on them had been bad enough… something else going public could destroy them. Trannies were moody, feeling caged in, looking for anything that they could direct their ire at, any excuse to release some of their pent up aggression. She wished the teen would disappear, disappear and take his untimely retribution with him. Saving Alec’s butt again was not on the agenda, and after everything they’d been through, she was finding herself afraid to face the day in which she’d no longer be able to save him. The day in which she would no longer want to save him.

The teen was still staring, steely; maybe trying to put some fear into Alec, gain some power, some joy in the big reveal. “Will you just spit it out, already?” Max snapped, tired of waiting.

“I’m a transgenic,” The teen broke away from the larger man’s gaze. “I never forget a face, especially the face of the fucking bastard that cut off my barcode.”

A swift intake of breath, someone was listening in; maybe everyone.

“It was you or me, kid.” Alec said blandly. Before adding, “Although, props for forgetting to throw in the part where I patched you up and dumped you at a hospital.”

“That’s not the point!” The teen shouted. “Point is you cut into me in the first place, you sick fuck!”

“I had a bomb at the base of my skull,” Alec was still bland, seemingly oblivious to Max’s wide eyes. “You were just unlucky enough to be in my way,”

He didn’t look at her, didn’t want to watch the trust shatter again, like it had so many times before.

He opened the door of his apartment and let her fist catch him in the jaw. He’d known it was coming, he hadn’t thought it would hurt as much as it did. And he wasn’t talking physically. He looked up slowly.

“I guess I was stupid enough to think Josh and I were the first ones you went after,” She frowned as he caught her eyes. “That you couldn’t actually do something that screwed up!”

If he felt remorse, he wasn’t showing it. It made her sick to her stomach.

“Who else? Who else did you go after before you came after me?” She demanded.

He didn’t say anything.

And he did feel remorse, but he wasn’t going to show it to her, not when she was like this. Besides, he was the comforter, not the comforted. He made her feel better, not the other way around; he didn’t need her pity. She hadn’t come here to talk, anyway. She’d come here to fight, and she didn’t need his input to do that.

“I suppose you should know Josh tried to defend you to everyone, explaining about White and the neurobomb,” Max said coldly, with none of her usual fire. “But he just made it worse. Now everyone’s talking about how you willingly worked with White to save your own skin.”

It was true. What could he say? What could he deny?

But part of him raged. When would it be enough? He’d given his life to T.C.. He was one of the ones that had stormed White’s compound, had rescued the kid in the first place. Humans were fickle, living in the present, letting the wind blow them about, caught in a hopeless sea of reaction. Why did one mistake always outweigh one hundred deeds of good?

She stayed in the doorway, didn’t barge her way in, and that’s when he started to realize what she’d come here to do, why she wasn’t shouting, why she was so cold. He started to shut himself down, in preparation.

“They want you to leave, Alec.” She didn't even hestate, which, really, only made it hurt more. “And I think I do to,”

His eyes shut, briefly, the only testament to weariness, the closest thing to a stagger that he would ever let her see. He’d always known the day would come, the one in which she would no longer stand up for him, in which it would all finally be too much and she’d try to release him. When the police had mistaken him for Ben, that was when he’d first realized that one day she would abandon him, that she could and would turn on him in an instant. Every day since had been a slow preparation for this. He’d been expecting it… but he hadn’t been expecting the anger that surged up.

“So this is it?” He demanded. “After everything I’ve done for you-“

Her voice was harsh, as harsh as her bark of laughter. “And what, exactly, have you ever done for me that hasn’t indirectly benefited you in some way?” Maybe at one time, that had been true… but saying it now… It was cruel and unfair, but she was so angry at him. Damn him for putting her in this position.

His anger at her died, replaced with a weariness of spirit, the same question rolling over and over again in his mind. When? When would it be enough?

“I thought you knew me better than that,” He glanced up at her, his voice soft and broken.

She paused as she was leaving, as she turned her back on him. “I did too.” Her eyes shut, wearily. What could she tell him? That spirits were too high, people were too hemmed in? Transgenics were calling him a traitor, and those that weren’t muttering he should step down were the ones like Mole, the ones that were shouting from the rooftops that he should be forcibly removed and punished.

This was for his own good, she told herself. He needed to leave before it got ugly. And it was for her own good, too. Her grasp on Command was tentative, always had been, and cutting her ties to him was just another way she could keep hanging on.

And maybe she was drained, worn-out; she couldn’t always be the one that saved him. She was tired and betrayed and maybe she didn't want to do it anymore.

She was expecting him to slip out of her life, like he had so many times before. Except before, she hadn’t felt sick to her stomach, hadn’t felt that cold chill of finality settle into her heart. But he stopped her in the hallway, he fought for her.

“You know that pendant I got you? The rune? You want to know what it means?”

“I know what it means,” She didn’t look back, couldn’t look back and face his defeat as she shut him down. Couldn’t look back at him without breaking down, letting him back into her life. “I had Logan look it up for me. It doesn’t mean anything, Alec. It doesn’t change anything. It’d be best for everyone if you were gone by morning.”

It was supposed to be a joke, an old rune inscribed on a scrap of gold. Savior. She was his savior… And now it was the biggest fucking joke of all. Savior no more. Later, when he was gone, the worthless hunk of metal got tossed in the top drawer of her dresser. She pretended like she didn’t know that she didn’t have the strength to throw it away. Like it didn’t hurt too much to look at.

One thing was for certain. She hadn’t expected him to take Josh with him.

“Alec not take me,” Josh scoffed as he tossed more clothes into the duffel. “Alec needs me. Joshua has to take care of Alec… for his own good.” He straightened, strong, and turned to fix Max with a studious stare.

“What?” She demanded. “It’s not my job to take care of Alec.”

“Yes,” Joshua agreed. “It’s not your job.”

And she still didn’t understand what he meant. Now she couldn’t ask, because he’d left, following Alec across country to New York, and it’s close to fifty sectors. When she was in the public eye, she pretended like she didn’t care, like that was the way she’d wanted it… At least she did until she went over to Logan’s. And then she raged for a close to an hour; how could he have taken that kid's barcode, how could he have taken Josh with him when he'd left, how could he do this to her? And Logan had just hung his head and every time he glanced up, she looked away from the soft look of reproach in his eyes. Everything was all wrong; the whole world was against Alec, but the one person she’d counted on to agree with her, the person she could talk to, that could convince her she’d done the right thing, was on team Alec? How unfair was that!

“It’s not my job to take care of Alec,” She reiterated to her sometimes boyfriend.

“Right,” Logan shook his head. “It’s not your job.”

God, what was that supposed to mean? So it’d hurt, and maybe she’d hurt him, but she had T.C. to think of, had to keep everyone happy. Sometimes the needs of a few got sacrificed to appease the many, there was no helping that. And it was more than that, too. Why couldn’t they see that she was tired? Tired of the betrayals; of feelings and friendships, smiles and laughter, building up and seducing her into complacency, making her think everything was finally okay, only to have it all come crashing back down time and time again.

Josh called to tell her that they hadn’t made it to New York. That they’d stopped in Michigan and Alec had met a transgenic, an X-6, in trouble, and they didn’t know when they’d be moving on. Joshua asked if she wanted to talk to Alec. She said no, and pretended she couldn’t hear Alec’s harsh voice, “I don’t want to talk to her,” in the background.

Josh called a few weeks later to tell her that they were staying in Detroit indefinitely. That Alec had found them an apartment and was trying to start over with Chris, or whatever the hell the kid’s name was. Max pretended like she didn't care, hung up the phone, and couldn't shake the melancholy the rest of the day.

A week after that, Logan needed her help on some Eyes Only thing and she was halfway to Alec’s apartment before she remembered that it was empty, that he was gone. That was the first time she recognized the gaping hole in her life. The one that she tried, and tried, but could not fill. He’d taken something of her with him when he’d left. Maybe the last of her trust, which had already been woefully lacking to begin with.

Max was still tired, but as long months dragged on, as the anger ebbed and all that was left was the hole, she was tired for vastly different reasons.

The kid. It wasn’t enough that he’d started it all to begin with. No, he’d stuck around. He’d stayed behind, he swaggered around, he reminded her. He took the pity that everyone offered him like he deserved it. He agreed with all the bad mouthing like he hadn't started it. Max tried not to hate him, but... There would always be a few people, transgenics among them, that delighted in the fall of their betters, and Alec was obviously their better, Max thought, because he was one of the best. One of the first to turn around, one of the first to lead T.C., to put others before himself, and his fall from grace got scathing tongues moving like nothin’ else could. Until one day, something inside of her snapped and she turned and snarled, “Any of you would have done the exact same thing in his position, but only about half of you would have let the kid live if it meant your own skin. So shut the hell up or get the hell out.”

The group of transgenics scattered under her fiery glare. The outburst had surprised her almost as much as it had them. The kid had blinked at her for a long moment, until she'd stared him straight in the eye and said with perfect calm, "If you're not going to contribute, get out and don't let me catch your face in here again."

A few faces had turned grim in agreement as she'd busted up the bitch fest, so maybe feelings had finally died down enough. Maybe it was time for Alec to come home.

When all was said and done, it’d taken her almost six months, but she finally understood what Josh and Logan had meant. It wasn’t her job to take care of Alec. He was her friend and, job or not, she should have done it anyway. She’d thought she was doing what was best for everyone. She’d screwed up.

Screwed up was a thought. Royally fucked up also came to mind. One of the few people that she could rely on, and she’d turned on him in an instant. She was so stuck on her old ways, the ways before T.C., before Manticore, when it’d just been her and Logan and O.C. and Sketch and the rest of the Jam Pony crew… she hadn’t let him wiggle his way in, and every chance she got, she was trying to shove him back out, trying to preserve that perfect little home she’d built for herself, the one she knew, the one she was comfortable with. And when he had finally made a place for himself, as her back-up, one of the only ones she could trust implicitly, she’d gone and sacrificed him for a populace that would probably eat her alive just as quickly.

Her rage at herself, at T.C., quickly turned in to rage at him, because Max wasn’t really known for clear, unbiased thinking. How could he have left like that, anyway? Why hadn’t he fought harder to stay? That was so unlike him, usually he disappeared for a while and showed back up, acting like nothing had happened.

That was part of the problem, she realized, part of the reason that his continued absence ate a little bit more at her every day. As angry as she’d been, as hard as she’d tried to push him away, maybe he was never supposed to actually stay gone. Maybe it was just like what she afraid of; that he was tired of her, had been looking for an excuse to get away from her, and had finally found one and taken it. That everyone would eventually leave her; that she was destined to be alone.

“Leaving town for a few days,” She supplied, leaning in Logan’s doorway.

Logan glanced up, his face solemn. “Tell Alec… well, tell him I said hey.”

Joshua was all too forward about giving her their address, but he hmmed and hedged when she asked him what Alec had said about her coming, so she had a feeling that the transhuman hadn’t told her former friend. Maybe Alec was still sore at her, but whatever, she’d pop him upside the head, tell him to come home, and that would be the end of it.

He opened the door, and his face froze in surprise. Then he rolled his eyes. “Oh great, what do you want?” and the months of unhappiness, guilt, of missing him, of him obviously not missing her, surged up and claimed her before she could think it through.

Her fist cracked across his face. And before he could respond, a body came flying down the hallway, from the stairwell, and barreled suddenly into her side, pushing her away.

This, then, must be Chris. Max dodged another blow from the transgenic (The X-6, she noted, and a female, no less.) and then a sweeping side kick and Max didn’t have much time to register much thought, pushing herself away from the wall, because the girl was full of rage, focused, and Max had to work to stay on the defensive.

“Chris, stop, it’s okay,” Alec’s voice was soothing, and the tween abruptly pulled out of her quick forward punch and fell still, glaring, surly, at Max. And Max’s heart skipped a beat. The hair was shorter, pulled back in a low pony tail, but the lips, the eyes, they were all recognizable.

It was her.

Or, well, it was her clone. The clone she’d fought before, in a forest, the X-6 that had shot her. The one that had, indirectly, started all this mess by getting her recaptured in the first place, the reason why Zach had to sacrifice himself, why Manticore had been brought down, why Logan had a virus, why T.C. had been built up, why she’d pushed Alec away… It all came back to this one little girl.

“She’s just a kid, Max,” Alec said warningly.

“Thought you had progeria,” Max backed out of her ready stance, still glaring at the girl.

“Manticore meds are a beautiful thing,” The girl snarked back. Looks like Alec had had an influence on her; Max had never had a smart mouth at that age. Actually, she’d hardly talked at all. Her brashness had come later, as a form of protection, a way to keep people away.

Josh took that moment to climb the last step and his eyes widened in happiness. “Max?”

Her eyes softened as she turned to smile at her large friend. “Hey Big Fella.”

Alec snorted and turned, walking back into the apartment, and Max realized that she had yet to say anything to him. She glanced, torn, between his retreating back and Joshua’s warm eyes, before she sighed in annoyance and followed Alec into the apartment. She could feel Chris’s eyes burning into her back, but she was used to her clones not liking her, big deal.

“I suppose it won’t be enough to tell you I made a big mistake?” She leaned in his bedroom doorway, watched him vigorously folding some laundry.

“You’re right.” He turned to look, solemn, at her. “It won’t.”

She straightened, her voice shocked, a little entreating, “Alec-”

“What are you doing here, Max?” He sighed, dropping the shirt that was in his hand back to the bed. His weariness was palpable in the small, stark room.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Now, will you please come home?” A few months ago, six to be exact, her exasparation would have amused him. It didn't anymore.

“No,” His mild response practically floored her.

“No?” She made a face, “What do you mean, no?”

“Do you want me to spell it for you, too?” There was a flash in his eyes, of the old Alec, but his voice went quickly back to bland. “I’m not going back to Seattle, Max. There’s nothing there for me.”

“What do you mean?” She scowled. “Of course there is. It’s our home.”

“No, Max, it’s your home. This, this is my home.” He gestured around at the small room, the laundry and the rumpled sheets, the stacks of magazines and the lamp with no shade, but at more than that, too. At six months of seperation, and Detroit, and an apartment, and building a life that didn't have a ticking time bomb attached, a life that wasn't always on the verge of implosion. A life in which he was actually needed, where he wasn't the responsibility.

“Whatever,” She rolled her eyes, leaning back into the doorframe with seeming nonchalance. “We both know I’ll talk you into it anyway.”

It was kind of a joke. She wasn’t expecting the rage. “Goddammit, Max! Don’t you get it?! We’re not friends! You can’t waltz in here like you know me, throw a bone my way, and expect me to chase your ass all the way back to Seattle. I don’t want anything to do with you!” He shoved his way past her, past Josh and Chris, gaping in the living room, and out the front door.

“That went well,” Chris surmised. Max turned to glare at her. “What?” The teen demanded. Max sighed, and for the second time that day, found herself chasing after Alec.

But Chris caught her arm as she was rushing past, and Max looked back, looked down, at the familiar, slim hand curled around her forearm. “Chris,” Joshua started, but the dark-eyed teen ignored him, focused on the woman before her.

“He’s the only family I got,” Chris admitted, angry, and Max nearly staggered at the weight of the confession. “And if you hurt him, I’ll shoot you again.”

Max shook herself free. Identical pairs of brown eyes bore into each other for a long moment, before Max finally sighed. “I’m not trying to hurt him, I’m trying to-“

But Alec had stomped back in, and was glaring at her. “And what the hell gives you the right? Coming here after six months, acting like I’d just forgive you? Do you realize how incredibly selfish that is? Why couldn’t you just stay have stayed in your fucking (“Alec,” Josh said in annoyance, glancing pointedly at Chris), sorry, frickin’ little fairy tale with all your fervent worshippers and left me the hell alone?”

Max blinked. Hadn’t he just stormed out of here to get away from her? Somehow, this hadn’t been in her plans. “Uhh-“

“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes, “I don’t have time for this. I have to make dinner.”

Joshua set a plate on the table for her despite Alec’s stony silence. She leaned in the kitchen's open doorway, watched him hovering over the stove, watched him try to ignore her. “Thought I was going to have to chase you up and down Detroit,” She admitted softly. “Didn’t think you’d come storming back in,”

The spoon was loud as it clattered to the countertop. “Yeah, well, I got responsibilities.”

Her eyes darted towards the living room, to the TV and the teenager that was glued to it. “Chris?”

“Yeah, Chris.”

“How… I mean… Why-“

“First week we were here, I caught her trying to lift a motorcycle off of some very not ‘bad’ guys.” Alec shrugged. But he still wouldn't look at her, apparently preferring to stare deeply into the saucepan. “And I thought, I don’t know, that maybe I could help, could try and steer her down the path of righteousness or whatever, that I could make a difference in her life. Take the time with her that no one took with you until you met Logan at 19.”

“Why? So you could get back at me?” Max asked jokingly. “So you could mold a better Max, one that actually likes you?”

“No,” He grunted, and finally he looked at her. “So I could save her from the bitterness and distrust that I see so clearly in you.”

Max fell silent, her throat closing, because what do you say to that? She turned and walked back in to the living room, to Joshua, who frowned, glancing across her stricken face. She waved him away, going out and sitting on the fire escape, staring at a night sky that held no answers. She sat out there until Chris leaned her head out the window, “Hey, Older Me. Dinner’s ready,” and bounced back in towards the small dining area. Max was tempted to stay out there, but she hadn't come all this way to mope all alone.

Dinner was mostly silent, at least on the older person side of it. Chris talked at about a mile a minute, regaling Alec and Joshua with the adventures of her day, about everyone she’d seen, everyone she knew. Alec pushed food moodily around his plate. Josh kept glancing between Alec and Max, unhappy. Max chewed the food that was probably good, but tasted like ash in her mouth.

When dinner was over, she escaped again to the fire escape, leaning against the railing, and she knew it was him, stepping out onto the old iron landing. “You staying the night, or heading back to Seattle?” She made a little noise, like a hmm or something, like she didn’t know when they both knew she wanted to stay.

Finally, she glanced at him. “Guess I should probably head back. No point in staying, right? It’s not like you want me here.”

“Not really,” He agreed, bland.

Her eyes watering was a surprise. “God, I’m sorry, okay? I made a huge mistake, but I didn’t know what else to do. Mole was saying that we should shoot you, and everyone was so angry, and I don’t… don’t know how to fix it.”

“Why is this eating you up so badly?” He quashed the guilt. He didn’t owe her anything, sure as hell shouldn’t be the one to comfort her. “It’s not like we’re friends.”

She groped blindly into her pocket, pulling it out, letting it dangle from fingertips. “Then what the hell is this?” It was a necklace. The necklace he’d snuck out of T.C. to get for her.

He reached for it, taking it gingerly from her, looking it over. “This? Max, this is nothing, a piece of metal, as easy to throw away as I was.” And it was, wasn’t it? She made an abortive sound, reaching for it, as he flung it over the railing, into the night. She whirled on him, and he slid out of the way of her punch, ducked out of the way of her left hook, and his hands grasped her shoulders, spinning her and slamming her back into the brick wall next to the window, before leaning into her.

“What are you doing here, Max?” He demanded, his breath hot and washing across her face. “Why did you come? Don’t you think I knew that one day you would throw me away?”

“I should have stuck by you,” She glanced away, from his eyes, too close, too raw, his lips, too near, too soft. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers curled tighter and he pulled away, pulling her off the wall, snarling in frustration, only to slam her back once more, like he was trying to force the air from her lungs, stop the relentless words. “Will you stop saying that? I don’t…” His first sign of weakening, “I don’t want to be drawn back into your sick little world. I don’t want to go back to T.C., to all that drama, and hard work, knowing that one wrong step and I’ll be back out in the cold. I’m happy here, Max.”

“But… I need you,” Her hand reached for him and he snarled and finally backed away.

“You don’t need me, Max. Chris needs me. You… you just want to play with me when it suits your needs.”

“Don’t tell me what I need or how I feel, you big jerk,” She fought back, to his surprise, taking a step forward. “I missed you!”

“No you didn’t,” He scowled back.

Her face went icy cold. “Just because you’re mad at me, doesn’t mean you get to dictate my emotion. If I say I missed you, say I’m sorry, will you just fricking accept it? Kick me out if you want, call me a bitch, tell me you don’t care, but at least believe that I mean it.”

She whirled and was stomping away, maybe she’d just head back to Seattle after all, when his hand caught her arm and her pulled her back, and she blinked as her face was suddenly pressed against soft cotton, and hands were smoothing down long hair.

“I’ve hated you every day for six months,” He said conversationally. His voice softened. “But I missed you, too.” She glanced up in surprise, lips parting. “Don’t think I forgive you,” He said warningly, staring solemnly down at her. “I don’t trust you, Max, and I don’t think I ever will.”

“So what does that make us?” She asked softly, pulling away from him. “If we’re not friends, what are we?”

That slow smirk, that she remembered so well, as his hand glanced across the side of her face, pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “We were never friends, Max.” Fingers slid through her hair, down her neck, and she wondered, given how screwed up they were, why he kept touching her, like he couldn’t help himself, like he was making up for lost time or something.

“That’s a load of crap,” She scowled back. “We were too,”

“No we weren’t,” His hand skimmed over her shoulder, slid down her back, molding her against him once more, and she was content to close her eyes, to breathe in the familiar scent of Alec that she’d hadn’t known she’d known and missed.

“Yes, we were,” She murmured, her hand fisting in the soft material of his t-shirt.

His sigh of exasperation made her smile. His broken voice made her frown. “Why do I let you do this to me? Why can’t I break away from you?”

“You’re not exactly blameless, you know,” She looked up at him. “It’d be easier on us both if you stopped doing stupid stuff that gets you in trouble.”

“I’m trying,” He huffed, one hand coming up, forcing her head back down. “But how do you think it feels knowing that no matter how much good I do, it’ll never be enough?”

“About as bad as it feels knowing that even if I want to, I can’t always save you,” She replied solemnly.

There was his annoyance again. “Not that you tried very hard in the first place,” He scowled, pushing her away.

“Alec,”

“I’m tired, I’m going to bed,” His back was to her, but it was a little victory. “You can sleep on the couch, if you want.”

He hardly said two words to her in the morning, chatting amicably with Chris, and she pretended that the jealousy didn’t eat her alive, that she was content just to see Josh again.

“It’s such a mess,” Max admitted to her large friend. “I don’t know who to trust, and allegiances are changing daily. I thought, when we started out, that, I don’t know, the common bond of our Manticore upbringing would unite us, and if that wouldn’t, at least a common enemy would. Instead, I have to be careful, because every move I make pisses at least one person off and I’m constantly defending myself to people that don’t think I’m fit to lead. I don’t understand all this… I don’t know, internal politicking. Why are we being destroyed from the inside when we have so many enemies on the outside that would be happy to do that for us?”

“Human nature,” Joshua shook his head. “Pretty whack.”

“Sometimes,” She admitted, a little unhappy, “I think it would have been better if we’d all gone to ground, if we’d been picked off slowly, so I wouldn’t have to watch this… this… slow disintegration of everything I hoped for.”

“That’s the coward’s way out,” Alec was leaning in Josh’s doorway. “Sometimes you got to fight for the things you want, Max.”

“You’re one to talk,” She frowned. “You left.”

“Well, what I was supposed to do?” He demanded. “Fighting it was like fighting a brick wall.”

“Exactly,” She agreed. “I’m not a coward, Alec. I’m human. And I’m tired. And I don’t know what to do,” And she must have been under more stress than she’d let on, because she dissolved into a mass of tears, and it got all awkward, Joshua patting frantically at her back, Alec hovering, unsure in the doorway, as she kept apologizing. Apologizing for what, they weren’t sure. For crying, for kicking them out of her life, who knows.

“Sorry,” She’d mutter, later, wiping at her eyes. “I’ve been under a lot of pressure. Makes me a little emotional.”

“No kidding,” Alec snarked, and wished he hadn’t when it drew her attention and she turned watery brown orbs on him.

“Please, Alec, come home.”

He felt something within himself, some hard part of himself he thought he kept under control, flag. But it wasn’t him that answered.

“He is home,” It was Chris, and she did not look happy. “Besides,” She scowled, with her fourteen year old logic, “if you’re the one that’s unhappy, shouldn’t you be the one moving?”

“It’s not as easy as all that, kiddo,” Alec said, grudgingly. “Maxie has responsibilities… and sometimes you have to give some things up for the greater good.” Max glanced at him in surprise, but he refused to look at her.

She left close to nightfall. She’d known she couldn’t stay forever, after all, and the longer she was away, the worse it would be for her when she got back. But Josh told her to come back, anytime, Chris had shrugged, whatever, and Alec had been strangely silent. She’d hoped for something more, dunno, definitive, some great revelation, some concrete fix to all their problems, but all she was got a was a strange, tentative kind of uncertainty, as they both were unsure of where to go from here, caught in a strange limbo between the best of friends and the worst of enemies.

Reality. It was always so much worse than fiction.

She quieted the grumbles when she got back as best she could, did her best to live one day at a time, one problem at a time, waited for the eventual meltdown that she was sure was coming, that Logan tried to prepare her for... And it did come, didn’t it? The ‘request’ that she step aside, let someone more capable lead. Oh sure, she could still fulfill her Cosmic Destiny when the time came, but until then, someone a little more experienced should be in charge.

She fought it, what choice did she have? She couldn’t let them be ruled be a warmonger, couldn’t let all their hard work dissipate into the short static burst of machine gun fire. She hadn’t been expecting to be called a traitor, accused of not looking out for transgenics best interests, but guess everything will always come full circle in the end. They’d done it to Alec, why wouldn’t they do it to her?

Who wanted to stay around for a ‘trial’ anyway? Logan shot down the guard of her cell, and they escaped under cover of darkness, driving in shifts. When she showed up on Alec’s doorstep once more, his grim face told her more than his silence did. ”It’s started, hasn’t it?” She demanded, her voice dripping in dread, her heart freezing in her chest.

He pulled her into their apartment, gestured Logan in as well, and his voice was hushed, befitting the solemnity of the event. “America’s at war with Transgenic Nation, or whatever the hell it is they’re calling themselves.”

Max slumped in defeat.

“That’s not even the best part,” Alec frowned. “The Cult has gone public, calling themselves the Sons of Minos, or something like that. They’re saying it’s their destiny to fight the transgenic threat. And what’s even worse, they’ve got some kind of old frickin’ prophesy to prove it.”

“So this is it,” Max said softly, glancing at her wrist, at runes that had not prepared her. “The end of the world, and it was started by the wrong side.”

Alec sighed and pulled her in, holding her tightly. Logan frowned, not in jealousy, and their eyes connected over top of Max’s head. The apocalypse kind of took precedence over who got to touch the girl.

It was Chris that finally broke through their fog of unhappiness. “Could you guys not do that? You know, hang all over each other? It’s like watching myself make out with my older brother; it’s kind of creepy and disturbing.”

Alec’s soft laugh was warm in her dark hair. “Yeah, well, welcome to our life.”