Restive Nature
Rated: NC-17
Disclaimer: I in no way, shape or form own the characters of Dark Angel or X-Men or anything related to them. I simply like to play with them for a short while.
Timeline: This is a slightly AU story. It takes place more in Max’s timeline, with the pulse occurring. It begins after the episode ‘Blah Blah, Woof Woof" It doesn’t affect the X-men much, as Professor Xavier is affluent enough to afford the best in life. It also takes place after the first X-men movie, but as I haven’t seen the second one, I’ll leave that stuff alone.
Pairing M/L
Summary: Once again Max is on the run. But this time she is led to a safe haven.
Chapter Six
As they walked back to her motorcycle, Max asked about the general area. Logan tried to offer information, but really didn’t know too much. "I could tell you all about sights to see and historical monuments in Canada," he jokingly offered.
"Is that where you’re from?" she asked curiously.
"I guess," he shrugged. He wondered if maybe he should let her in on his main problem in life. After all, if he took up her offer of help, it would come out in the end. And he certainly didn’t have to give her details. "About fifteen years ago, I was in an accident. Lost my memory. Never got it back."
"That’s crappy," she frowned. "For you, I mean." He nodded. "So you have no idea where you’re from then?"
"I think Alberta, maybe," he sighed. "I traveled around a lot. Always ended up back there," he shared. "That’s where Storm and Cyke found us. Me and Rogue, that is."
"Did they just happen to be in the area?"
"No, they’d been tracking another mutant. He took off one night and they were suspicious enough to follow him. Lucky for us they did. My truck slammed into a tree. Rogue was trapped and my truck was on fire. They got us out. I figured I owed them something."
"I guess," Max arched an eyebrow, as if wondering why he’d feel that way. They climbed aboard her motorcycle. She revved the engine, cocking her head at a small angle.
"What’s the problem?" Logan shouted.
"There’s something off in the engine," she shouted back. "Can’t you hear it?"
Logan listened for a moment and could detect a slightly high-pitched whine. "Scott teaches a mechanic class. Maybe they could take a look at it for you. Save you the cost of taking it to a professional."
"That’s okay," Max declined. "If there’s somewhere I can take a look at it, I’ll do it myself."
"You’re a mechanic too?" Logan shook his head in slight disbelief. "What else can you do?"
"You don’t want to know," she laughed, pulling out of the parking lot."
They arrived home with time to spare before washing up for dinner. Rogue was looking for Logan. After quickly introducing Max to the younger girl, Logan left with the girl to reassure her that he wasn’t planning on leaving any time soon. Jean swooped down on their guest before she could make a move towards the kitchen.
"I thought I’d show you your room if you had a minute," Jean informed her. She led Max up the stairs to the second floor. After a few quick turns, she stopped at a closed door. "Here we are," she murmured. She opened the door, flicked on the light and then moved into the room. Max followed, depositing her purchases on the bed. Jean motioned towards the en suite bathroom, apprizing her silently of its existence. "Scott and I are just down the hall, as is Storm. Logan is just next door."
"Does he snore?" Max demanded in a light tone. Jean fixed her with a surprised stare.
"Not that I know of," she replied faintly. Then she realized that the woman was teasing. "Actually, I should warn you, he does have slightly vocal nightmares."
"Don’t we all?" Max quipped. "Won’t bother me. I don’t sleep much."
"Why not?" Jean asked, instantly concerned. She was having a difficult time keeping out of Max’s mind. She was itching to poke around in the figurative sense. She could sense the numerous, but fairly well controlled emotions in the woman. And it didn’t help that the medical doctor in her was clambering for answers as well. "If you have a problem sleeping, it might be caused by a medical condition. I’m a doctor…" she trailed off when she saw Max stiffen. "Please, don’t feel obligated to share. I’m not trying to be pushy."
"It doesn’t bother me," Max lied. She stared at Jean for a moment. "If I were to share something with you, would it fall under doctor patient confidentiality?"
"If it pertained to medical information, of course," Jean replied swiftly. "Is there something I should know?"
Max struggled for a moment before answering. She didn’t have to be specific. And if she were going to be here for any length of time, it would be smart to have at least one person in the know. "I… suffer from… seizures."
"Epilepsy?"
"No, it’s a rarer condition," Max informed her. "There is no real treatment at such time."
"What exactly happens?" Jean asked, seating herself on the bed.
"Well," Max sat as well, and rubbed her hands over her thighs. "Usually I feel a few warning tremors, I guess you could call them. Since I have no way of treating it, I basically suffer through the attacks with tryptophan. Eventually I level out and the seizure ends."
"Do you know what happens if you don’t take the tryptophan?" Jean asked. She was fully aware of the effects of the naturally occurring homeopathic drug.
"I’ve heard that the seizures get worse in length and power until the body finally gives out and dies," Max looked out the window as she said this. Jean could feel pain and sorrow radiating from her.
"You’re sure that’s what happens?" she asked Max gently.
"It happened to my brother, Jack," Max whispered. "He died from seizures eleven years ago."
"Is it hereditary?"
"You could say that," Max barked a harsh laugh. She rubbed her hand over her face. "So, now you know."
Jean nodded, although she could sense that this small piece of information was only a tiny piece of the puzzle. "It’s better that I do know," Jean agreed. "This way, I can be prepared for any eventuality. How is your supply of pills?"
"I have a couple bottles with me," Max informed her. "I didn’t know where I would be able to get more."
"Okay," Jean smiled. "If you need more, let me know and I’ll direct you to the nearest health food store. And I’ll keep some on hand here in the infirmary, for emergencies."
"Thank you," Max said simply. That went easier than she’d suspected it would. "Well, I suppose I should put my stuff away."
"All right," Jean stood. "Do you remember how to get to the dining room?" At Max’s nod, she exited the room, shutting the door softly behind her. Max stared out the window, lost in thoughts of her family. Closing her eyes, she let the horrible memories roll over her. Max wasn’t given to self-pity, but thoughts of Jack led to Eva, and those two brought her closer than anything did. If only they’d had the courage before Jack’s death to run. There may have been a way to save him, and in turn save Eva. But it was Jack’s death that made them realize that there had to be more in the world than what they were taught. More than just Duty, Discipline and the mission.
With a heavy sigh, Max shook herself out of her melancholy state. She busied herself with putting away her new clothes. Then she made a cursory search of the room. There was no telephone to be bugged. As friendly as these people were, Max never forgot the training she so abhorred. She made certain she knew her exits and the lay of the grounds. As far as she could tell, the room was what it appeared to be. But Max would reserve judgement until she got to know them better, especially the telepaths.
She set her cat burglar outfit out with a wry smile, then made her way downstairs. She reminded herself to get a lock for her door. There was no telling what she might have to hide in the coming days. She slid into an available chair, just as the housekeeper began to serve up.
Chapter Seven
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