Not Within Mission Parameters
"I can’t jump, you know," Max’s voice slowed Angel’s headlong run. He stopped, fearing that it was a ploy to keep him away. She had known the instant he got to the roof. He wondered if he’d be able to catch her if she did go over. He continued to creep forward, hoping she wouldn’t notice. If his heart could beat, he wouldn’t have been surprised if it exploded from his chest with all the fear he was feeling. She turned her head back to look at him. She was deadly calm, as if she were just out for an evening stroll. "I stand up here, on the edge, looking down over the city. One hell of a risk. For a normal person, that is," she scoffed. "But no, not me. I’m not invited into the night." Sarcasm filled her tone.
Her words puzzled Angel, but as he studied her, he began to understand. Max was really leaning out, but it was as if an invisible barrier stopped her. Very similar to the one that kept him or any other vampire from entering a home unbidden. "Maybe there’s something at work here. Maybe someone is trying to tell you that you’re worth more than this," he replied, his emotions choking him up just a little. He knew he certainly thought she was worth more.
"Something along the lines of Manticore," she sneered. She moved back a little, easing the tension in his body a little. "It’s physically impossible for me to commit suicide. Not unless it’s ordered, or ‘within mission parameters’." Her voice was cold and hard over that little phrase. Angel could only guess how many times she’d heard it in her young life. He swore inwardly, thinking of the hellacious adults who had no compunction about instilling suicide as a reasonable means to a child. It didn’t matter what the situation was.
"Then why are you up here?" he demanded quietly, knowing she’d hear him.
"Because up here, everything is quiet, it’s normal," she sighed. "Up here, I can look at the people in the city, imagining that maybe somewhere, somehow, they’ve got a good life. Something I’ll never have. Sometimes up here, I can forget…"
"Forget about Case?" His voice was so low, it barely registered. He could remember many nights when he had tried to forget as well. But he never deluded himself into making that happen. Max turned her head away and looked down at the street again.
"Yeah."
"Baby," he closed his eyes, suffering her pain with her. "Max, please, come down." He waited, longing to reach up and snatch her into the safety of his arms. Finally, she stepped back. He swooped to her, engulfing her in his embrace. She didn’t respond, as if that one word she’d uttered had drained all emotion from her. Angel didn’t care. She’d scared him so badly that it was he who was trembling now. His knees were shaking and taking her with him, he sank to the ground, with her on his lap. He leaned his forehead against her shoulder. But she didn’t respond. At least she didn’t move away either. "Max," he implored again. "You need to talk. Let it out, or it’s going to eat you up inside. Believe me, I know."
Max continued to sit impassively, in his arms. He threaded his fingers through her hair and gently settled her into his embrace. He had two reasons for that. The first was that he wanted to try and forestall her running from him again. And secondly, after the fright he had over her apparent dance with death at her own hands, he needed to hold her, assure himself that she was really there. He could have lost her so easily. If she couldn’t jump, she could have run in the street and been mowed over by a car. Life was that way. Maybe hit and run wouldn’t have been as deliberate as jumping, but just as effective when it came to dead. Angel sighed, knowing he’d never be able to force Max to talk to him. So he did what came naturally and comforted her in man’s age-old way.
He slid his hand up her arm, lightly trailing it over her neck. She shivered under his touch. He cupped her cheek and urged her to turn to him. Her large eyes looked into his, their coloring almost the same. With slow, deliberate ease, he let his lips descend to hers. He brushed them softly over the pliant flesh of her wide mouth. She shivered again and he returned, increasing the pressure a little more. He didn’t want to scare her, so he gently trailed kisses along her cheek up to her temple. But he couldn’t deny the lure of her breathy little gasp and he returned to her moist, warm mouth. He let his tongue sweep across her lower lip, hoping to urge her into returning the caress. She squirmed a little before allowing him access. His tongue dipped in, finding hers and laving it, taking her heat for himself.
Max felt herself stir, felt herself give in to his kiss. She was lightheaded from the shock of pure desire that lanced through her and she squirmed a little. He deepened the kiss and Max wanted to cry when he pulled back a little. He stared at her from under a hooded gaze, his own desire mounting as well. He leaned towards her, but before he could kiss her again, her hand shot against his chest.
"Don’t," she whispered. Angel stared at her in shock. He could have sworn that she had responded to him. But he was too much of a gentleman to push her. So he settled for holding her as long as he could. She settled in against his chest and he rested his cheek on the top of her head, hoping that she wouldn’t keep herself from him. They were that way for a long time, until Max spoke again. "I killed him."
Angel tried to keep from stiffening at the shock of her words. He knew immediately that she meant Case. He waited until they were as relaxed as they were going to get. "Tell me," he urged gently.
"We, Logan and I," she began hesitantly. She sighed, realizing it was much easier to say when his guilty, soul-filled gaze wasn’t meeting her own, "we found out that the Phalanx meant to set off a bomb, nanotechnology. After months and months, we finally found out what it was. It was the same virus that Lydecker had put in Case. See Lydecker had developed these nanos, but he reversed the effect. So instead of fixing everything they could, the nanos would break down and destroy living tissue. He infected Case so he had a bargaining chip to lure Tinga back to Manticore. She agreed, Case received the antidote, so he didn’t die." She paused a moment, remembering that night that Lydecker revealed his twisted idea of using the boy as a pawn. "The Phalanx wanted to wipe out any lesser humans and prepare the way for the coming of the superior race, themselves. During their rituals, they planned to take the same cure that Case had received so they would be immune to the effects. Logan and I discovered where the prototype bomb was and when it would be activated. It had enough of the nanos to wipe out the Northwestern seaboard. My job was to take out the Phalanx, one by one. I got most of them, at least the ones who knew how nanotechnology worked. But they’d already taken the cure before I got there. It was gone. I also stole the files used to create the nanotechnology, so they couldn’t try it again. When I told Logan about that, he wasn’t too pleased. That meant our only option was my nephew. So Logan went to get Case, to see if we could make some sort of antidote from his blood."
"Smart move," Angel commented quietly.
"But when I returned, Logan had found out that Case’s blood alone wouldn’t work," she argued softly, shaking her head, trying to make him see. " The antibodies, after destroying the original virus and any other junk in his DNA, went dormant. He needed my blood to activate it. The idea was that the difference in my blood would activate the cure because it would automatically scan the new blood for mistakes to fix. That was its entire purpose, to fix things, make them better. And we found out that the size of the bomb was too big. Too much. I gave Logan the blueprints of the bomb. There were multiple chambers, in which the virus was contained, all interconnected. Case couldn’t just give a sample. We needed all his blood. Something about the balance of the good nanos, versus the evil having to be even. So we headed to where the bomb was, there wasn’t much time. We fought to get in and make our way through the government facility. I was so tired by that point that Case saved my life. He shot a soldier that I didn’t see right away. Just nicked him in the arm. But it was enough to alert me and deal with the guy. And then, Case asked me where we were going. And I lied to him. I lied. And he knew it, but he let me lie anyway."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him I was taking him to his mom," Max sighed. She was trying so hard to keep the emotion from her words. They both knew she wasn’t succeeding. "He went along with me. Once we reached the bomb, I read Logan’s notes on how to begin the process of ‘dismantling’ it. We were to transfuse Case’s blood and my blood into the chambers where the virus was stored, with this multi-tubing stuff Logan had come up with. There was one needle for me and one for Case on one end, and enough tubes for the chambers on the other end. It was clear, the glass and I could see our blood seep in. He was just seven years old. Just a little boy. I had to kill that little boy. It wasn’t my prophecy, it was his. I didn’t have to give much blood. Just enough to activate his. But he had to give it all. I remember that the only thing he said was that he couldn’t wait to be with his mom. And I just couldn’t let him go alone. He was so brave. I didn’t know if Heaven existed, and all I could think of was that I didn’t want that precious little boy to wait in the darkness alone, never knowing if he’d really see his mom or not." She shuddered in his arms, and Angel tightened his grip slightly, silently comforting her. When she continued, her voice was quiet. "Case knew the whole deal, he wasn’t stupid. I think what hurt the most was that the whole time, he was trying to make it better for me, make it easier. But nothing could. I lay down with him in my arms and we bled to death. Together." Angel shuddered just as she did. "Or at least, I thought I died. Guess my being here kind of disproves that theory." She turned her tear filled gaze to the evening sky, as if searching for something, or someone. "I hope he found her."
There was nothing he could say to her. In all his years of life and unlife, he’d never prepared for this. His only comfort some nights was that it was the demon that had killed and tortured so many people. If he wanted to, he could separate himself, have something to blame, even if it did co-exist in the same body as his soul. So many people saw Angelus as a separate person that he almost believed it at times. But Max would never have that luxury.
There's More To This Than Meets The Eye
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