Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)
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 Twelve
Max bit her lip and stared at Logan. It was amazing, the amounts of times that she had rebuffed him, the foremost thought in her mind to protect herself. But whatever she did, he kept coming back. Offering some sort of friendship. She wanted to laugh. All these years that she had yearned for her family, she’d finally learned to make friends with people who weren’t like her. And now that she had decided that that was something she couldn’t afford, there it was being shoved in her face.
But Max had also learned that she couldn’t be nothing but on guard every moment of her life. She nodded slowly. "Yeah, I’d still like to go. That is, if you guys want to."
Logan’s eyes lit up just a little. At least she hadn’t shut down the idea totally like he’d been expecting her to. "Good," he nodded. He turned to leave her room, but stopped suddenly and turned back. "Actually, I had this idea," he offered quickly, as if the faster he said it, the less likely she’d be to reject it. "Why don’t we make a weekend of it? We could go up Friday after school ends, get a couple hotel rooms. Maybe do some sight seeing…" He trailed off, trying to gauge what she thought of the idea. "Red and Cyke could really use a break," he threw in hastily, not above using others for his own gain.
"Yeah, that wouldn’t be a problem," Max shrugged, recalling how earlier she’d had a similar idea of going up to New York. "If Jean and Scott want to, that’s fine by me."
"All right," Logan let out his breath that he’d been holding. "I’ll ask them tonight." He slipped from her room, unable to control the grin spreading over his face. At least she hadn’t rejected the idea out of hand because it came from him. She’d seemed, well, if not excited, at least looking forward to the weekend. It was a step in the right direction. Of course, the ultimate destination was still unknown to him. He was just following this insane urge, almost an instinct to get to know this girl.
*****
Max didn’t give too much thought to what Logan had offered until later as she replayed the conversation in her head. ‘A couple hotel rooms’, could have meant many things. Two rooms, four rooms? He’d never specified. But finally Max decided that a couple probably meant three. One for her, one for him and one for the happy couple. Or perhaps he meant two, one for the men, and one for the women. Of course, that didn’t seem too likely, what with the undercurrent of hostility between Scott and Logan. But she finally decided not to dwell on it. She’d find out when they got there and if the arrangements didn’t suit her, she could always change them. Although she stubbornly refused to ponder what exact arrangement she would prefer.
She made it down to the dinner table while it was relatively empty. She chose an empty area of the table and was pleasantly surprised when Storm took a seat across from her. The rest of the table swiftly filled up, but through divine inspiration or humor, Max wasn’t sure which, there were still two empty seats. One beside her and the other beside Jean. She mentally groaned, realizing just whom it was still missing from the table. Charles had already positioned himself at the head of the table and had nodded at the housekeeper and the students who had kitchen duty that week to begin serving the meal. He was of the persuasion that if one didn’t care to be on time, one could eat their meal elsewhere. Elsewhere usually being with whomever was on duty, in the kitchen. But just before the food was brought in, Scott and Logan hurried into the room.
Max held her breath as Logan slipped into the chair next to hers and Scott took up his usual place. Max fiddled with the utensils before her, avoiding his gaze. Logan seemed to immediately picked up on this and just let her be for the moment. He’d just finished talking to Scott about this coming weekend, surprised to find the other man so amenable to the idea. Of course, Scott had been all about clearing it with the professor first, which Logan grudgingly admitted, was necessary. But being a smart man, Logan knew better than to announce his, their plans in a room full of children that would like nothing better than to spend the weekend blowing off steam. To his relief, Storm asked Max what she thought of their fair town and drew her into a conversation that relieved both of them and seemed to amuse Storm. But she’d always been a cool one.
Once the meal got underway and the teens and adults alike were caught up in their own worlds, Max managed to relax a little. She talked with Storm and with one of the students, Bobby, with Logan throwing in a few idle comments. But when she began to rise from her seat, Logan’s hand on her arm stilled her. "Can I talk to you for a second?" he asked in a low voice. Max paused and nodded, continuing on her way. Logan followed behind her until they’d reached the main hallway.
"What did you need?" Max asked, glad to find her voice steady. Logan relaxed against one of the columns supporting the expansive room, careful not to get too close to her.
"Talked to Cyke earlier," he informed her. She nodded, trying not to let her attention wander. "He said a whole weekend sounded good, but he needs to clear it with Jean and the professor first."
"Okay," she nodded again, relieved that it was a fairly neutral topic. Their debates if one could call them that were so far fairly heated. "Anything else?"
"Yeah, I think Cyke wanted to talk to you about somethin’ too," Logan shrugged, although he was pleased at how easily they seemed to be talking. Maybe offering friendship had been the way to go. She certainly hadn’t seemed interested in anything else.
"Okay," Max sighed. "I guess I’ll go find him."
"He’s probably with Jean, upstairs," Logan figured. It was strange that the usual venom at that thought, of Scott being with Jean that was usually present, was well, still present, but quite undermined. Was he getting over Jean? He hadn’t thought it possible, but since Max had shown up, things had really been turned upside down. Logan watched her walk away, his thoughts heavy as he tried to discern again just what it was about this girl that had every part of him itching right down to his toenails.
*****
Max was about to knock on Jean and Scott’s bedroom door, but the low urgent tone she heard emanating from inside made her pause.
"…you can’t push yourself so hard Jean," definitely Scott’s voice. "We’ll find this mutant, it’s only a matter of time."
"Time we don’t have Scott," Jean replied heatedly. "What if this mutant kills again before we find it? What then?" There was some muffled movement and Max assumed that Scott was trying to calm her in a more personal matter. She waited a few moments before knocking, slightly embarrassed for having eavesdropped. But when genetic enhancement was rife through your body, sometimes you didn’t have a choice. The door swung open and Max pasted an innocent look on her face.
"Oh, hey Max," Scott smiled and Max wondered if it even reached his eyes. With the protective glasses in place, it was slightly harder to read him. But the rest of his body language was relatively tension free. This mutant on the loose must be pretty tame stuff for this group if Scott wasn’t all that upset by it. Jean was another story.
"Hey, Logan said you wanted to talk to me," she supplied quickly. Scott looked pensive for a moment, as if remembering that he’d said so.
"Yeah, come on in," he stepped back to allow entry into their room. Max glanced around curiously, noting that the basic layout was very similar to her own. With the exceptions that Jean and Scott had a much larger bed, which was fair. And the fact that they had many knick-knacks scattered about, as well as teaching material. But, for having lived a fair chunk of their lives in this place, that was understandable.
"So…" Max trailed off, unsure what was to be asked of her. Scott’s attention snapped back to her, from Jean who had quickly shuffled a pile of papers into the desk. Jean perched on the edge of the piece of furniture.
"Oh yes," he suddenly seemed to recall what he’d been thinking of earlier. "I was wondering if you’d like to rev up your bike, like mine?" he suggested, watching her reaction.
"Really?" Max’s eyes were shining. Scott’s lips curved into a boyish smile.
"Yeah really," he nodded. "I have all the stuff we need."
"Could we do it right now?" Max demanded, her teeth capturing her lower lip in anticipation. Scott exchanged a rueful smile with his girlfriend and rubbed the side of his neck.
"Well that was the other thing," he spoke hesitantly. Max straightened up a little. She should have known there was a catch. In her life, there always seemed to be. Scott hurriedly explained, wanting to put her back at ease. "I was wondering if you minded doing it during my senior mechanics class? See my bike was sort of the prototype and I did that all myself. But I thought the kids might enjoy seeing it done first hand and-!"
Max sighed with relief. If that was all he was asking. "Not a problem," she interrupted. "I suppose they all want something like your bike for themselves, huh?" Scott grimaced as he realized what she said.
"Oh, maybe it’s not the best idea," he grunted. "Showing them all these little tricks." His hand rubbed at his neck a little more before Jean stepped forward and pulled it away to be clasped in her own.
"It’ll be all right Scott," she chuckled. "Most of those kids don’t even have their driver’s licenses yet."
"That’s true," Scott grinned and turned back to Max. "And maybe you could give a demonstration of your mechanizing skills. The kids wold love that."
"Oh, I don’t know about that," Max shook her head. "Like I told Logan earlier, I’d probably touch of a mini revolt."
"Oh, I doubt it," Jean smirked. "These kids like it here. I doubt you could say anything that’d send them flying out the doors."
"Eh, you never know," Max shrugged one slim shoulder, remembering a time long ago when she had actually taken part in a fight or flight situation. She shuddered slightly, still seeing Eva’s dead form on the floor. It was easy to assure herself that those kinds of things probably never happened here at Xavier’s mansion. The professor was too much of a humanitarian, or mutantarian to kill one of his kids.
Jean and Scott watched the by-play of emotion flickering over the young woman’s face. Or rather Scott watched, but Jean felt. She’d opened herself up just slightly, wondering what had taken Max so quickly from being there in the moment with them, to wherever she was now. She very carefully filtered out their surroundings, concentrating on the feelings and visions. It was incredibly tough work, something that she was still struggling to master.
There was a deluge of images, children, dressed in institutional-like gowns, guns, a man’s face, a child on the floor, glass crashing, cold snow, running. Jean stiffened, trying to let the images flow through her. Those she could handle, but the resultant wash of feeling they evoked shocked her back to herself. She stared at Max with wide eyes, now able to see the pain and misery she locked behind a blank face, emotionless to the outside world. But if she looked hard enough, Jean could see the panic.
Max stared at the redhead, feeling a strange shiver running down her back. It was not unlike feelings she’d been feeling all her life. And it was telling her one thing. Run. And as she’d given in to it before, she made to do so now. She had no idea what Jean had just done, but the brief remembrance of where she was and who she was dealing with brought her up short.
Scott was completely unprepared when Max whirled around and disappeared through their door. It was only the resounding crash of it being thrown open and hitting the wall did he realize that she was gone. He exchanged a glance with Jean, seeing that his girlfriend was just as shaken by those brief seconds as Max had been. He brought his hand up to gently caress her shoulder and with his touch, Jean was startled out of the trance she’d been in. She looked over to him, her eyes large and troubled.
"Damn," she whispered.
*****
So what do’ya think?" Logan asked calmly. Scott had said they’d need the professor’s approval, and so he’d wasted no time in finding it. And so far the professor hadn’t seemed inclined to disagree.
"Well Logan," he began calmly, "I must say that I-!" But before he could finish, he went rigid, his eyes glazing over slightly. Logan was mildly perturbed, having seen this before. Something was going on elsewhere in the mansion that needed Charles’ direct attention. It was off-putting at first, but Logan could deal. It wasn’t until the professor impatiently wheeled his chair away from his desk and towards the door that Logan began to wonder what it might be. He followed behind, on his guard, as he usually was when mischief abounded. Or even when it didn’t. His senses were attuned so deeply that he could feel the power of Charles’ gift without the visual evidence presented to him. He trailed behind, ready for anything. Attack, new arrival, troubled teen. They had had it all before.
They headed towards the front door. Charles stopped short in the beginning of the foyer and Logan glanced up to take in Max’s form. His eyebrows furrowed together, his own body reacting instinctively to the tension and fear radiating from hers. He felt a low growl working it’s way up his throat that he tried hard to retain. They couldn’t scare her. He couldn’t alarm her. Not now with her so close to the edge. His mind processed this more rapidly than average, his instincts coming forcibly to the surface. He laid a hand on Charles’ shoulder, a warning to go easy, carefully. It was acknowledged with an infinitesimally brief nod.
He knew from his own experience that Charles’ was trying to work in her mind. Trying to evoke a feeling of calm and assurance. He’d done it the first time Logan had awoken in the mansion. But Logan realized that like him, Max was more wounded animal than rational human. Even her clenched words reminded him of his own feelings at that confused time.
"Not safe," she ground out. "Not safe anywhere!" Her head was pressed up against the heavy wooden door. Her feet planted exactly twelve inches apart. Her hands curled against the wood, vibrating slightly as she tried to push the telepath from her mind. There was another moment of silence and Logan knew that Charles was still trying, leaning forward in his chair in an attempt to reach her. "Let me out," Max pleaded, desperation in her voice. Logan could feel the explosion coming. Her fist balled up and slammed through the door faster than a human eye could follow. "Let me go!"
Chapter Thirteen
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