denyce: (DA: Max)
[personal profile] denyce
Title: Il faut qu'une porte soit ouverte ou fermée
Author: Denyce
Fandom: Dark Angel
Pairing: Alec/Logan, implied previous Max/Logan
Rating: PG-13 language
Summary: Max has to face what she did because of her jealousy, after putting Alec in a difficult situation.
Word count: 2,284
Disclaimer: Not Mine! I don’t own nor make any monetary value! Borrowing characters strictly for fanfiction to share with other obsessive fans intended for harmless enjoyment.
Spoilers: Post Freak Nation
Notes: Title is a French proverb, the translation: there can be no middle course (lit.: a door must either be open or closed)

Part 1

Won’t leave you… didn’t…” Disjoined and nearly breathless, the words hung in the air, mumbled in an endless loop that faded in and out. At some point it finally dawned on Alec that it wasn’t the words fading in and out; he was fading in and out of consciousness.

He was moving, and with each jolt his body screamed in intense pain. If he could, he’d stay unconscious.

On instinct, Alec tried to switched gears and assess the given situation. Swallowing through his pain, he struggled to use the techniques Manticore had drummed into him.

Forcibly he tried to open his eyes. Only one cooperated, a small sliver just enough to see, the other remained swollen shut. It was just enough to take in his surroundings as he realized he was outside, and that it was Max who was holding him up.

His arm was thrown over her shoulder where Max held on in a firm grip, and her other arm was wrapped securely around his waist, anchoring him. Still he felt his body falling forward in a dead weight, his length almost too much for the petite X5. Only her brute strength carried him on, his dragging feet offering no help as pain ricocheted throughout his body.

He was grateful it wasn’t Manticore pain. No, the pain he felt was from the hands of ordinaries. He’d discovered the off-duty sector police after he entered the club. By then it’d been too late to do anything about it unless he abandoned the mission. He’d walked in willingly, collared, and suddenly he was nothing more than a walking present minus the bow. It was easy to see the grunts were frequent regulars at the club, there specifically to play elaborate power games, exuding their power over everyone else. He hadn’t even made it more than two feet before he was surrounded, each man drooling in anticipation.

Alec turned around, eyeing each man up and down. Relying on the façade of his character—of someone who was obviously in search of a top, Alec judged them silently, his mouth quirked into a sneer. He shrugged his shoulders, affectively dismissing them before he forcibly pushed through the circle. Then he calmly made his way to the bar to wait for his contact.

Although it had happened only a few hours ago, already the details were skewed, bits seemingly out of place. Even the memories of when he actually made contact with the informant were hazy. How long had it been before the grunts had taken things into their own hands and cornered him unwillingly?

There was one moment that stood out—when he’d sat there at the bar, with the mirror behind it. It was a perfect spot for him to discretely scan the room before chancing a glance back toward the men who stood behind him. Six of them stood there, hunched together expectantly, openly leering after him. One caught him watching. Knowingly the stranger smiled; only there was no mirth or laughter in his eyes, just calculated cruelness. Unable to look away, Alec recognized the look. It was one that was shared with a few of Manticore’s more expressive handlers.

Alec swallowed hard from the sudden threat of those memories. Memories he continuously fought against—his façade cracking as he silently longed for the safety of Logan’s arms. Shamed by the need Alec forcibly turned away, reminding himself why he was here in the first place. Only to be distracted by the reflection of pulsating light on his collar. He tried to ignore it—instead he gave into the compulsion of his flawed human DNA, and stared at his reflection.

He shouldn’t have been surprised; he knew what he looked like. He’d even seen himself with a collar before. But now, in this place, showcased in a ripped tee and confined within a collar that Max had handed to him, even his fucking long hair added to the picture. It created something he didn’t want to see reflected back at him.

The cracks widened, hidden memories pushed at his consciousness. Of things he did. Of things he was trained to do. Of things he didn’t want to remember. Especially now.

Mesmerized by the reflection, his eyes drifted toward the flashing light, confirming that the collar was firmly locked, leaving him weak and vulnerable.

After that there were only bits and pieces; his memory broken and fragmented—of rough hands and fingers all over his body, bruising. Of being over-powered and punched several times before he was subdued. Where hands dragged, braced and pulled his body in several directions at once. Of being shoved to his knees.

A sharp pain vibrated through his body, dragging him back to the present. Suddenly he was grateful for Max’s stumble; the pain helped to keep here in the moment. Already he focused on locking those memories away, right along side Manticore’s harsher disciplinary lessons; lessons and moments he was determined to keep buried.

Another stumble and his body shifted under Max’s grip. In order to save him from falling face first into the ground she twisted, shoving him against the alley wall to readjust her hold. Unable to stop himself, Alec groaned from the impact before falling back into darkness.


At the sound of Alec’s guttural moan, Max frantically looked up, “Alec?…” Holding her breath, her fingers trembled, as she reached to gently lift his battered face. Swallowing hard she inspected every inch of Alec’s blood torn, bruised face until she felt assure that through her stumbling she hadn’t accidentally injured him any further.

Finally satisfied, she gingerly brushed hair off his forehead, blinking away tears, thankful that Alec was still unconscious.

Staring at him now she couldn’t deny the heavy guilt she felt. She had waited over an hour after Alec’s scheduled rendezvous with their informant—blatantly ignoring it when Alec didn’t make a beeline out of the damn place. She knew something was wrong, and still she did nothing. But this… This wasn’t what was supposed to happen—not what she wanted.

Her own voice accusingly asked, 'What the hell did you want, expect? You sent him in there as bait to be used and tossed…’ Suddenly she couldn’t stop the tears because it was all true. She wanted Alec to be hurt, to be humiliated. She had even ignored Logan’s initial instructions for the meet, and rearranged it to suit her needs. She never meant to actually endanger Alec, only humiliate him and Logan. She hated that they were together—the others before never mattered because Logan was still there for her. With Alec things had changed. Logan changed. His attention had shifted, he no longer had time for her, and when he did it involved Alec. Knowing they were together messed with her head. Even when she was alone with one of them, and it didn’t matter which, even through the scent of clean skin from a shower, they always smelled like each other, which only deepened the hurt and the anger she felt. She hated Manticore; hated everything about them, especially after what they did to her and Logan. White was gone. She no longer had anyone to take the blunt of her pain for everything Manticore did. Only Alec, with his devil-may-care, nothing can hurt me attitude. He was easy to rage against, but not for the right reasons—there were no right reasons. And with Alec everything was magnified. It wasn’t long before she stopped questioning why and just reacted.

The harsh breaths of pain coming from Alec tore through her heart. Somehow this was worse than taking Ben’s life. Even if it nearly killed her to grant his last request, Ben had begged not to go back to Manticore.

Alec didn’t deserve this. The thought cut through her. It wasn’t like she was really ever with Logan. She’d blown what few chances they’d had, and the virus was still in affect. It still dictated their lives, forcibly keeping them apart.

She and Logan remained close. More than close, because even now she had no doubt that Logan loved her. Even if he had made room for Alec, she didn’t doubt his love for her. But it wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t the same.

It didn’t matter that she had been with other men first, or that two were not the result of going into heat, like the first time. Nor did it matter that one had lasted months that, they even lived together while Logan watched and supported her, was her friend throughout everything.

She hated that she felt needy—guilty that she wanted Logan for herself. The few flings he’d had she didn’t mind, she understood. Understood the physical need of more than just your own hand, but she never contemplated he’d be with a man, or one that was an X5—or that that man would be Alec.

Even as she saw things go from playful flirtation, to all out slam-bam sex. She never considered it’d be more than that. But from the sidelines she saw the way Logan looked at Alec when Alec wasn’t looking. How his eyes softened, how he smiled and laughed more, how he touched Alec.

In the beginning, they both seemed hyper aware of her presence. They acted guilty when they were caught too close within each other’s personal space, or when they were caught touching. She never said much, how could she? So she smiled silently acknowledging their concern, but started to keep her distance from both of them.

It was shortly after that that they hooked up, still just one-night stands. Then one day Logan had cornered her—almost asking for her blessing. Not that he used those words, because he didn’t. Actually, he didn’t ask her anything. He’d simply informed her that he was starting to have stronger feelings for Alec, that he wanted more from Alec and was going to pursue him. He wasn’t going to waste time like he had in the past.

Waste time like he did with her. He didn’t say it, but she knew that was exactly what he meant. They—she had wasted a year of keeping him at a distance. Even when they had the opportunity, she had wasted that time and in return ended up with only a kiss. One fucking kiss. The blunt truth of the matter was, it wasn’t Logan’s fault, it was hers.

Even now she didn’t have a single answer as to why she’d waited, why she’d kept Logan at a distance. There were too many reasons to boil it down to one. But whatever her reasons, Alec didn’t share them.

In fact, Alec was the complete opposite of Max. Where she’d hesitated, he’d stepped forward and grabbed what he wanted. It was less than a week after that conversation that Alec started to spend the entire night, and shortly afterwards where Alec never left, and less than a month later Joshua was helping Alec move his things into Logan’s place.

It hurt. Everything hurt. It left her feeling empty and alone. Like she’d felt right after escaping from Manticore all those years ago.

A soft whimper escaped from Alec, bring her focus back. Facing the realization of those actions and choices didn’t change the truth of what she had done. She manipulated the situation for her own petty reasons, and Alec knew.

The walnut size lump in her throat grew as she recalled Alec’s questioning stare. She remembered Logan mentioning about eyes being the mirror to one’s soul. For the first time she understood what he meant as she stood there watching Alec’s eyes turn from disbelief, to silent accusation, to acceptance.

At the time her heart had been pounding like she had just sprinted a 5k, her conscience prodding her to say something; that it was all a joke, or a test—anything to stop what she was doing, what she was demanding of Alec. Thing was she didn’t stop it. Not when he questioned her, not when his eyes flashed that he knew what she was doing, not when she handed him the rag she’d called a tee shirt. Not when she’d given him the damn collar or even when he saw the time indicator for how long he’d be helpless. She’d just stood there, inflexible, with a steady glare defying him each step. Extracting revenge dictated by her own jealousy.

At each step Alec accepted. With each acceptance Alec gave, her conscious tugged harder, sending warning signals that she was edging toward an abyss, about to lose something that was vitally important. She ignored it, purposely. Didn’t listen and willingly crossed that invisible line.

Only now was she starting to get it, staring to understand the possible cost.

Her head and chest throbbed, as the painful realization dawned on her that once she got Alec to Logan’s it was only going to get worse. That Logan would know the full extent of her deception.

Max shook her head and swallowed hard as she adjusted her hold on Alec, trying to pull herself together so she could get Alec home to safety. With a new resolve she ducked her face in the crook of her arm to wipe her face and clear her vision. Her arms tightened around Alec’s waist doing what she couldn’t do for Ben.

She had somehow allowed herself to loose sight of what was important. Of what she had always held sacred above everything else, to protect her unit, her family—she’d willing pay for that mistake, but she’d be damned if she wouldn’t do everything and anything to rectify it as well. She only hoped it wasn’t too late.



denyce: Jared waving hey~ (Default)

January 2017

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