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This is a stand-alone story following the events of Max Allan Collins' DARK ANGEL novels SKIN GAME and AFTER THE DARK, and incorporating information revealed in D.A. Stern's THE EYES ONLY DOSSIER. -- author's note

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.org

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Logan Cale always looked out of place at Crash Bar, his bearing too preppy for the biker establishment in spite of the scruffy beard stubble, baggy clothes, and haggard expression on his face. Just back from Florida? Alec thought. Why doesn't the guy have a tan?

"How is she?" were Logan's first words, spoken even before he'd settled into the chair opposite from the X5. "I got on a plane as soon as you called, but your people won't let me in to see her.

"Bad," Alec said, averting his own eyes because he couldn't stand seeing the grief in Logan's. "But she'll heal ... eventually. Or at least most of her will. As for you ..." He shrugged with a casualness he knew would irritate the hell out of the man, and then was immediately sorry. Cale was truly hurting. "She said she doesn't want to see you." Alec's eyes softened. "If it's any consolation, I think it's 'cause of how she looks, not 'cause she hates you or anything. Give her time."

Logan nodded, and studied his hands."Thanks for calling me," he said. "I appreciate your concern and I want you to know that--"

Alec raised his own hand, silencing the pretty little speech. "I didn't contact you out of concern for your mental health," he said bluntly. "I called because I need your help getting to the guy who did this to Max.

Logan regarded him owlishly, his eyes big behind the lenses of his glasses. "Going to play knight in shining armor are we Alec?"

"No," the X5 said almost gently. "I'm going to kill the bastard who raped and mutilated my sister."

"Let the police handle it, Alec," Logan warned. "You know Max wants the transgenics to be viewed as a legitimate segment of Seattle society. Becoming a vigilante won't help your cause."

Alec snorted in disbelief. "And this from the biggest vigilante of all -- Eyes Only." He lookek away. "You haven't seen her," he added quietly. "You used to love her, Logan. Hell, I'm guessin' you still do. A man doesn't get over a girl like her. Certainly you, of all people, can understand where I'm coming from."

"I do still love her," Logan said, biting the words off bitterly.

Alec unzipped his leather jacket (it was hot in the bar tonight), took a sip of Scotch, and regarded the other man over the rim of the glass, taking his time with his words. "And you don't think she deserves to be avenged?" he finally said.

"Max deserves to have her people follow her wishes."

"Who did it, Logan?" Alec asked bluntly, not willing to fall into game playing. "I read the papers and see the news. This 'slasher' as they call him has done this to half a dozen other women and two guys. He's not after transgenics. He hates beautiful people. Max probably got targeted 'cause he's seen her on the news and read about her in that rag of Sketchy's."

"You think I know who he is?" Logan said.

"He raped her, Cale," Alec snapped. "And he ruined her face, or at least he tried to. Max's outside scars will probably heal someday, but the ones inside never will. I think you have a real good idea who this slasher is. Eyes Only always has his sources. You're probably workin' with the police on it right now, but just don't have quite enough evidence to see the arrest through." Alec leaned forward, elbows on the table, and lowered his voice. "Let me take care of it, Logan. It'll save a whole lot of heartache for his victims, including Max, not to mention keepin' the guy from butchering someone else tonight."

"You've slept with her, haven't you?" Logan said.

The question was so out of left field it made Alec blink. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?" the X5 snarled. "Who Max sleeps with is her own business, especially now that the two of you aren't a cute couple any more."

"I do still love her, Alec."

"And ask me if I care. Now who the hell is the slasher, Logan?"

"I always knew she'd one day end up with you."

"Oh for God's sake--" Alec looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, and also wondered just how many drinks Cale had had before coming to Crash. Realizing the futility of trying to deal with an insanely jealous drunk boyfriend (or rather former boyfriend), the X5 stood up. "I'll go get it out of Clemente," he said levelly. "Forget I even asked."

"Alec, wait!" Logan said as the younger man started to leave.

The X5 turned and regarded Eyes Only with the cold calculating eyes of an assassin.

"This is for Max -- not you. It's Councilman Brody's assistant, Jack Garner. We just don't have quite enough evidence yet to pin him. We're hoping that Max will be able to give an I.D."

Alec smiled grimly. "Not likely, since the guy always wears a mask. but thanks. I'll take care of it." He started to walk away again, however at the last moment paused, a smirk in his eyes. "Oh, and about what you asked me? About me and Max? I think it's best for all concerned if you just keep wonderin'."

Wire around the throat from behind, pull tightly so the cord sinks through flesh and trachea, a moment of struggle and soundless gasps, then the body stiffens slightly before slumping.

It had been awhile since he'd taken someone out with his bare hands, but Alec remembered how all too well. After all, hadn't Manticore forced its kids to practice the various lethal techniques on felons and homeless people ... the dregs of society brought to the Gillette base to be used as human sacrifices for the betterment of the not-quite-human X5s? He still had nightmares about some of those kills ... the looks of utter horror on the faces of his victims. Some days they'd hunted in packs, like the animals they part were, but the real tests had been solo -- when the X5s had been ordered to prove their worth by murdering without the comfort of a group mentality.

A few of the kids ... his brothers and sisters ... had failed, been unable to complete the act. Eventually, they'd been removed from his Unit and no one had ever seen them again.

You did what you had to do, and then you tried to forget.

Alec adjusted the black leather gloves on his hands, pulling them more snug by the wrist, fingered the piano wire in his pocket, took a deep breath, blanked his mind, and knocked on Jack Garner's door.

Beauty.

All right. Try as he might to be noble, Alec had to admit to himself that it was Max's beauty -- her hotness -- that had attracted him to her in the first place ... those sultry dark looks, that gorgeous body, and the vague notion in the male part of his mind that he might one day get her in bed. This (at least on his part) was the groundwork of their original relationship -- that and their shared Manticore origins and experiences. However, gradually -- in fits and starts that included a lot of backsliding -- that relationship had become based on firmer footing.

Now Max Guevera was, quite simply, the person X5-494 trusted most in the world. And her looks -- or lack thereof -- had absolutely nothing to do with the way his heart felt about her.

"The scars will go away, you know," he said quietly from the doorway.

"I know that, asshole," she snapped, trying to ignore him but unable to keep her hand from touching her ruined face.

She wore her long dark her brushed forward now ... over her left cheek -- the side of her face that had taken the worst of her attacker's fury -- her dark brown eyes peering out from beneath the midnight waves like a frightened animal peeking from the safety of its burrow.

"Logan would still love you," he tried. "Hell, he'd probably love you even more than before now that you're--" Alec stopped, realizing that what he'd been about to say was cruel.

"Now that I'm damaged goods?" Max said. She glanced up at him with an ironic little smile. "Guess it would put him and me on more equal footing, wouldn't it? Now that I'm not so goddamned perfect any more."

"You never were perfect, Max. None of us are. What'd you once call us? Botched jobs? You were right. Hell, we'll be lucky if our genetics even let us live to see thirty. But I'm just sayin' ... if you want to go back to him, I understand."

"I don't want to go back to Logan, Alec," Max said, her smile gentling for him. "I don't want his pity. You have nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," he quickly said, realizing how what he was saying must sound. "It doesn't matter to me who you sleep with, Max. It's just that Logan seemed to make you happy."

"Once, he did," she said slowly. "But now ... I need to find my happiness elsewhere, if that's even possible."

"Max," Alec said, stepping forward so he could touch her shoulder with his hand. "You know, don't you, that this doesn't matter to any of us ... to your family ..."

"To you?" she asked, the smile wry now.

"Hell, especially not to me," Alec said, shaking his head.

"You're a gorgeous guy," Max said quietly. "And you're attracted to gorgeous women."

"We've never been like that, Max," he reminded her. "Thank God. You're my comrade, not my girlfriend or lover. And how you look doesn't mean anything at all to me. I care about you because of what you've done for me ... what we've been through together ..." The words sounded ludicrous, even to himself, like something out of a bad romance novel. Usually he could pull off a speech like this with a chick, but this was Max. She could always see right through him.

"Bull shit. You sayin' you don't like lookin' at my tits?"

Now it was Alec's turn to smile, a twinkle in his hazel-green eyes that had been missing lately. "Of course I like lookin' at your tits," he drawled. "And you know I wouldn't kick you out of bed. But the point is, there's a lot more to 'us' than that."

"So, you're sayin' you'd still want to have sex with me?" she said. "Even though I have a face that would crack a mirror and no other man in the world would want to touch me?"

Alec bit his lower lip, realizing he had to be careful here. It had been a long time for her ... for him ... She'd been raped, and he couldn't even imagine how she must feel about him ... about any man ... But really, the answer was simple for him. "Yes," he said softly, for once not elaborating.

Max put a hand on the hotel bed, then looked up at him, her brown eyes pleading. "Then prove it," she whispered.

"You know, don't you, that we should go back."

"We're sending money. Lots of it," Max said. "Dix is happy as a clam." She tightened the knot on her rope and glanced down the ventilation shaft, then over at her partner.

"You were their leader, Max," Alec said. "It's been almost three months. Now, I know I'm gettin' my cut from this 'supporting the cause' mercenary lifestyle we've been leading, and I'll admit I do like the fringe benefits." He flashed her a lascivious smile. "But someday we've gotta go home. Even you can't run forever."

"Why the hell are you naggin' me about this now?" she snapped. "If you want to go back to the States, then go. No one's keeping you here, Alec. For that matter, no one asked you to come here with me in the first place."

"And leave you all alone in a country where you don't speak the language?" he snorted. "Yeah. Right."

"I can manage on my own just fine," she said primly.

"I'm just sayin'," Alec nattered on, "in his last email Joshua sounded like he really missed you. They think we're never coming home."

Max looked away from him, toward the vent shaft wall. Dressed in tight fitting black, the two transgenic cat burglars were dangling nearly 200 feet above the basement floor of the Royal Hotel in Bangkok, Thailand, plying their trade. Inside the building was a prize that would help finance the Terminal City cause for a long time to come -- a small fortune in uncut diamonds in a jewelry dealer's briefcase that the owner had foolishly chosen not to put in the hotel safe.

All they had to do was get into the room, then out again, Alec thought, without setting off the security system -- and he had a plan for that, one that should be nearly foolproof if he could pull it off.

He glanced down. Only 40 feet to go. Good, because the thin nylon rope was beginning to slice into the palm of his hand ...

The crux of that plan was the fancy dress ball going on in the hotel lobby right now. Since they didn't exactly have an engraved invitation to the embassy event, the roof -- a way no human would attempt -- was the easiest way in and out. However, the next step should be interesting ...

Alec's feet hit the floor, and a second later Max alighted gracefully beside him. He shrugged off his backpack, and, in unison, they began unzipping the fronts of their black jumpsuits.

"Your cummerbund's crooked," Max said, reaching out to adjust the red sash encircling Alec's waist. Then she turned around. "Is my bra showing in back?"

Alec hitched up the elastic of her elegant red silk flounce evening gown. The garment still only came to her midriff, and plunged almost to her waist in front, revealing Max's tight cleavage to its fullest advantage.

Stepping back, she surveyed him from head to toe, and Alec smirked. "See anything you like?" he asked, his voice taking on that deep silk sexy quality it did when he had certain things on his mind.

"Not really," Max replied haughtily, but with a twinkle in her eye. "However, I've got to admit, you do clean up pretty nicely."

"Right back at ya," Alec declared, his eyes widening appreciatively as he took in the full force of Max's red beauty. "You know, you're really workin' that dress, Maxie."

"Shut up," she chided him. "This is a mission, not a play session. But if you're a real good boy tonight, I might let you unzip me later."

With a short sigh, Alec reached down and stuffed his black jump suit into the backpack, then did the same with Max's as she put on her high heels. From a nearby air vent, they could hear the music wafting down from the mezzanine above -- a waltz, Alec thought. "Here," he said, handing Max a full face black, lace-trimmed mask, then donning a similar but more masculine version himself that covered only his eyes.

"Good thing this is a masked ball," Max commented with no hint of emotion in her voice as she held hers in her hand. She looked up at Alec. "I'd stick out like a sore thumb if anyone saw the real me."

"You're healing fine, Max," Alec said quietly. "Take my word for it. You really ought to look in a mirror someday."

"She tried to smile, but failed. "Whatever happened to that 'all cats are grey in the dark' philosophy of yours?" she asked.

"I'm not the one who insists on keepin' the lights out when we do it," he said, his voice gentle and a little bit sad.

She touched the red ridged scar on her left cheek -- the one that continued up the side of her nose almost reaching the corner of her eye. That one had taken three skin grafts to close and there was still a numb spot at the corner of her mouth.

Alec took hold of her fingers in his, and gave her a stern look. "You're beautiful," he said gruffly.

"So are you," she replied quietly. Then, "Alec-- The way you're going to get the key--"

"Don't worry," he said easily, but meaning it. "She's just an Ordinary, Max. She doesn't mean anything to me."

"But you've been spending so much time with her the past week, and she's extremely beautiful. Plus, I know you like blondes and--"

His fingers against her lips silenced her.

Taking hold of his wrist, she forced his hand away. "Just don't go too far and screw things up," she warned him, her voice losing its worried cadence and becoming more businesslike. "No matter how much you want to put your dick in her, Alec, it's not worth us getting caught."

"Max," he said with a sigh of exasperation. "I don't want to-- Well, maybe I do a little but I wouldn't-- Oh, fuck. We'd better get moving. It's gettin' late and Christine will think I'm not coming."

"Just don't," Max said, reaching up to brush hair out of his eyes and tidy his appearance.

Alec simply shook his head.

She started to put her mask on, but he stopped her. Looking deeply into her eyes, 494 leaned forward, lightly touched her lips with his in a rare chaste kiss, and then told her what he knew she needed to hear. "Max, you're the most beautiful woman in the world to me," he whispered huskily as his thumb traced one of the fading scars on her face. "Don't worry about Christine. I don't want her. I want you."

If only the feeling were mutual, a little voice in his head added ironically as he left Max and her quivering uncertain smile behind, and headed for his assignation.

"Max," he said in the dark as she lay warm in his arms. "Now can we go home?"

He felt her reach to touch her face -- like she always did.

"No one's gonna care about that now," he gently chided her. "Hell, look at Dix, Mole, Josh, and lots of the others. 'Sides, you're healin' real well. Another few months and you're gonna be good as new."

"Not as good as new," she said against his bare shoulder, her face now hidden in her hair. "Never as good as new."

"Max," Alec tried. "If I got my face cut or burned ... if the Freak haters got hold of me and cut off my arm or leg ... if I ended up lookin' like a nomalie ... would you feel any differently about me? Did you feel any differently about Zack with his face and body all messed up? Wouldn't I still be that lovable X5 rogue underneath it all that you love so much? Wouldn't I still be me?"

"Of course you'd still be you," she said, her voice muffled by the smooth hotel sheet that she'd pulled higher. Her tone dropped lower. "Of course I'd still love you as my brother and my friend."

Alec winced at that ... at her obvious meaning. Brother ... friend ... but never lover ... He let it go. Like always he let it go ... This wasn't about him.

"Then you know the guys will just be plain glad to see you," he said firmly. "They won't care what you look like. Max, that last money order we sent to Dix after we fenced the diamonds was for almost four million dollars. They've got enough green to keep 'em in twinkies and beer for at least a year in TC. We can go home. We need to go home. 'Sides," he added with a sly little smile. "I'm tired of Thai food. It doesn't agree with me too well."

"That's what you said about French food, and Italian food, and Middle Eastern food," Max reminded him, his good humor infectious.

"Yeah, you've dragged my sorry transgenic ass pretty much all over the globe these past few weeks, sweetheart," he drawled easily as she shifted her weight in his arms and threw a bare leg possessively over his beneath the covers.

"We haven't tried Russian yet," she said.

"Russian was never a good language for me," Alec lied. "Seriously, Max, I wanna go home."

"What?" she said, looking around the dark hotel room. "And give up all this? Clean sheets, room service, and little mints on your pillow every night?"

"I don't think I'll be giving up anything really important to me," Alec said huskily as his embrace around her tightened. "Will I?"

"Do you mean will I still want to sleep with you if we got back to Terminal City?"

"Will you?"

"There will be plenty of beautiful X5 females just dying to get their hands on an alpha X5 male," Max said. "You'll be able to have your pick of the ladies. Maybe you won't want me any more."

"Max," Alec said, sitting up and wrapping his arms around his knees. "This is gettin' ridiculous. Do you want me to say 'I love you' or not? You've got to know how I feel by now, but you won't give me a clue. I know you miss Logan, that you think about him all the time--"

"Not all the time," she interrupted. "Just ... sometimes. It's hard to forget a first love, Alec. You, of all people, ought to know that. In fact, maybe it's impossible."

"I don't want you to forget, Max," he said, jumping off the cliff at last and stating his case. After all, hadn't he once told a girl -- Asha -- that life was too short to waste time where love was concerned? "I just want you to be able to move on -- preferably with me. There, I've said it. I want you Max, and not because you're my fuckin' sister or friend." He held up a hand before she could speak. "And don't say it's 'cause of pity because it's not. I started loving you almost from the moment I first laid eyes on you,. I didn't know it then ... wouldn't admit it to myself ... but that night when I almost died from White's little popgun on my brain stem? The only reason I didn't kill you to save my sorry ass is because I loved you, even back then. I can see that plain as day now. Of course you were so head-over-heals about Logan I knew it was useless. I would never steal another guy's girl. So ... friends ... family ... was fine with me. But now--"

He stopped talking, realizing what a fool he was making of himself, and waited for Max to say something ... anything ... Waited for her to put him out of his emotional misery.

But there was nothing from her -- no words, no touch. She wouldn't even look at him, but rather just sat there in the dark with her shoulders stiff and staring at the far wall.

"I'm goin' home," Alec finally said, his voice flat as he put bare feet on the floor and left their bed, knowing that in her silence he had his answer and it wasn't good. "I'm done."

Back home at last -- in Terminal City -- his body ached for her at night, but he was too stubborn ... too proud ... The ball was in her court. If Max wanted him, she'd have to say so. He was through with being the nice guy who let the girl walk all over his feelings.

Max had said she'd never heal -- but damn it, she'd healed enough. After all, hadn't he helped her? Now ... now maybe it was his turn.

He didn't know if she'd gone back to Logan (who was back in town), but somehow he doubted it. He told himself he didn't care one way or another. Still-- Some days that was the only hope he had -- that Max hadn't gone to another man yet.

And so he waited ... and waited. Days turned into a week ... two weeks ... She was avoiding him now, their friendship and easy camaraderie apparently gone along with the (non)love affair.

Mole was the one who jolted the X5 to his senses. One morning after breakfast, when Alec snapped at an X6 for no reason, his friend put a scaly hand on his shoulder, steered him to a back corner of the command center, and with a voice tinged with snark and tobacco, said, "How long you gonna let that bitch lead you around by the balls, bro? She's got you wrapped. You're pussy-whipped worse'n that Ordinary ever was. And I know we've had this conversation before, but don't try'n deny it this time."

"Max has had a hard time," Alec mumbled, jerking away from that friendly grip.

"Haven't we all? Alec, you've gotta move on. She doesn't want you. She's made that clear -- to everyone in fact You're a tom in the prime of your life. Get with the program 'cause you're no use to us like this -- and for that I may never forgive Max, no matter if she was raped and cut up. She's ruining you, Alec. For yourself ... for everyone ..."

Sullen hazel-green eyes glared at the lizard man, and the hand dropped.

"Suit yourself," Mole growled, turning his back on what he considered a lost cause and stalking away.

Anonymous sex. The best kind.

She was blonde, buxom, and horny as hell. Best of all, she didn't care shit that he had a bar code tattooed on the back of his neck. Veronica at The Blowfish Tavern was just glad her boy had returned, along with his gorgeous hungry dick and generous tips.

The back room was good enough, her lips pressing his in a devouring kiss even as her hands unzipped him. True, she wasn't Max, but as that hot, tight, slippery cunt enveloped his hard-on Alec wasn't thinking about X5-452. Closing his eyes, he thrust deep and fast, clasping the blonde lap dancer's bare buttocks as she sat perched on the edge of a table with ankles locked around his waist and naked breasts bouncing.

Thirty seconds ... a minute ... He was getting his money's worth, and so was she. It had been a long time since Alec had had sex -- not since Thailand -- and the hot cum rising in his shaft felt so very, very good. Closing his eyes tightly, he dug fingers into female flesh and threw his head back, grunting with pleasure, never seeing the calculating look in those watching blue eyes or the hypodermic needle in the little whore's hand.

She waited until he was at his very weakest and most vulnerable, when his breath came fast and muscles quivered as his semen boiled. One second there was intense pleasure -- the next a stabbing pain at the base of his neck.

Jolted out of his orgasm, Alec's eyes flew open to see Veronica watching him closely ... fearfully, the hypodermic and its dripping needle still in her grip. His hand went to the base of his neck where he could feel whatever it was she'd injected him with spreading in a numbing wave.

"You bitch!" he grated, reaching for her.

But the narcotic she'd injected him with was strong ... strong enough to take down a full grown male X5. And take Alec down it did.

They took him. They ... just took him.

And Max knew with dread certainty in her heart that she would never see X5-494 ... Alec ... again.

The ambush had been expertly planned. Whoever had orchestrated this knew Alec's carnal taste intimately. Using the girl at The Blowfish Tavern had been nothing short of genius. In fact, the TC gang would never have known that Alec had been kidnapped if it hadn't been for Sketchy -- vomiting in the alley -- who'd seen men in black suits manhandling a familiar looking unconscious young man into the back of a nondescript van.

"Airport!" Max shouted frantically to Mole and Joshua, at a dead run headed for the motorpool and her Ninja as soon as a breathless Sketchy had gotten hold of her on her cell phone. "If they've got him they'll be trying to get him out of the city ... maybe even the country."

"Who the hell are they?" Mole shouted after her, for once his cigars forgotten.

"The military ... Reds ... leftover cultists ... Freak haters," Dix said beside him. "Take your pick. Our alderman's got a lot of enemies."

"Shit, I should have seen 'em comin' ... someone wantin' to take down our best," Mole berated himself even as Joshua handed the lizard man his shotgun. "Shit," the lizard man repeated. "They got our boy."

Max's Ninja careened around the last corner and she brought it to a squealing halt at the edge of the tarmac -- just in time to see the large unmarked military transport's wheels leaving the end of the runway. She didn't know how she knew -- maybe a touch of telepathy in those genetics of hers? -- but Alec was on that plane ... unconscious ... helpless ... He'd be frightened when he woke up, and alone.

They'd had a spat that morning -- over some stupid scheme he'd come up with to increase the value of Joshua's paintings.

"Idiot!" she snapped. "If we raise the price too much, people are just going to find a new media darling to worship. Part of the appeal of Joshua's art is that it's accessible to regular folk -- not out of their price range."

"Price gouging is an art, Max," Alec said levelly, his keen hazel-green eyes boring into hers. "Believe me. I know the ceiling here, and we can easily milk another few hundred each out of Josh's creations. Rita agrees."

"You'll price him right out of the market!" Max exclaimed, fists on hips. "No, Alec. Just ... no. If the Art Mall gets a bad reputation we'll lost all of our business, and right now it's our only source of income. That money we made overseas won't last forever."

"Our only source other than our extra-curricular activities you keep hopin' Clemente won't notice," the other X5 added snidely. "Or should we be plannin'' our little jaunt to Russia after all? I hear the Tsar's crown jewels aren't all that heavily guarded. And speakin' of extra-curricular activities, that hit you want to pull on those drug dealers tomorrow night is a two-man job. It's on Steelhead turf and you know what busybodies British Eddy and his gang are."

"You offerin' to help?"

"You askin'? Or should I book a flight to Moscow?"

His self-centered smirk was irritating, but that was just Alec. Max looked him up and down. "You got any other plans?" she said, one eyebrow quirking, the meaning of her words deliberately layered.

Alec apparently wasn't in the mood to be teased. "Yeah as a matter of fact, I think I do," he said coldly, ignoring the opening she'd just given him, then turning his back on her and heading for the door.

So much for a reconciliation ...

That was the last time she'd seen him. Honestly, Max didn't blame Alec for not wanting to kiss and make up. She'd been an uber bitch to him ever since they'd returned to TC, the intimacy of those months together a thing of the past. At an utter loss as to what to do now, she rubbed at the now even fainter scar on her cheek as the roar of the plane's engines diminished, its lights winking out behind clouds.

"Alec," she said out loud. "Damn it ... Alec."

They hurt him. They wanted to know about Max ... Terminal City ... the transgenics' strengths and weaknesses.

X5-494 had been trained well. When they stripped him and fastened him to an operating table he told them nothing, spit in their masked faces, and used every ounce of his DNA-enhanced strength to attempt to break free.

But in the end, the young transgenic's ability to feel pain was his downfall. Helpless in his shackles and paralyzed by drugs, it began ... scalpels ... needles ... the brutal laugh of his captors as they enjoyed his torment and referred to him as "it" and a "thing," as if he wasn't even alive let alone a being with a soul. He screamed ... and screamed ... and screamed ...

Eventually, blood ran in rivulets ... too much blood ... plunging blood pressure ... shock ... and at last the blessedness of oblivion setting him free.

It was over. X5-494 was over. Alec was over.

"Max, you're not gonna believe this! It's Alec! He's alive!"

"What are you talking about?" Max shouted, rounding on Dix who'd just gotten off the telephone. Her amber eyes bloodshot, long dark hair tangled, and lines of weariness marring her once-pretty features and making her scars stand out redder than the rest of her skin, Max looked like she'd aged 10 years in the past week. There had been no sign of Alec ... no word among their contacts ... Logan's contacts ... not even Lydecker had been able to help. The X5 had simply vanished, presumably to become the experimental plaything of some foreign genetics laboratory or their own government.

It truly was the transgenics' worst nightmare come true -- one of their own snatched from their home, handsome Alec ... his flesh nothing but a commodity to be used and discarded. And the fact that it had been the cocky self-assured 494, one of their most vibrant, smart, powerful brethren ... one they relied on almost as much as Max for leadership ... had made the blow even harder to sustain. The guy who was "always all right" wasn't all right this time, and his downfall had affected them all.

"Clemente just called," Dix elaborated. "A 'John Doe' patient at County General Hospital came up on his radar -- Caucasian, six feet tall, light brown/blond hair, hazel eyes, and a bar code tattooed on the back of his neck. Sound like anyone we know?"

Max's heart turned over in her chest. Detective Clemente had been one of the people she'd contacted when Alec had gone missing 5 days ago, more out of courtesy than any real hope he could help find her second-in-command. But it looked like maybe her long shot had paid off. "I'm on my way," she said, snatching her leather jacket from off the table. "Call Sam Carr and have him meet me there!"

Dr. Samuel Carr was one of the very few people Max would trust with her life, not to mention her health (and scars). If Alec was a patient at County General, the last thing he needed was to be poked and prodded by a bunch of curious interns. Far better that Sam take over his care. After all, it's not like the doctor hadn't already looked after a few X5s before.

After asking at the desk, Max was directed to the intensive care ward. Intensive care? How bad was Alec? Was he unconscious? Was that why he hadn't identified himself or tried to contact her?

Sam met her just outside the main area where critically ill patients lay on beds where they could be constantly monitored, chart in hand.

"Is it Alec?" Max asked breathlessly, wanting to push past him. She could see a still, sheet-shrouded figure lying hooked to machines. "What did they do to him? How'd he get here? Who brought him in?" She snatched the chart out of Sam's hand, her eyes rapidly scanning the data.

"He was apparently brought in sometime just before dawn," Sam said, using a far less strident tone than Max and shushing her with his eyes. They were, after all, in a hospital ward. He looked toward the patient on the bed. "It's really odd, because there's no admitting physician's signature. The morning shift nurses just found him here, already hooked up to a respirator and oxygen ... catheterized ... I.V.s in both arms ...

"A respirator?" Max said, looking up sharply once more. "It is Alec, isn't it?" she said, uncertain because the young man's face was partially masked by the breathing apparatus and a set of diodes taped to his forehead measuring brainwaves.

"It's Alec," Sam assured her, although his voice was now grim. "Max ... you've got to know, he's not good. They've already done a CAT scan, and they're running his blood now, but he's in a coma and they don't know why. It could be from pure shock -- he's been pretty badly mistreated, and he's lost a lot of blood -- but he's also running a high fever."

"You told them about our basal body temperatures, didn't you?" Max said, her eyes glued to Alec and wanting nothing more now than to rush to his side ... to touch him and be sure he was real.

"They know," Sam said, "although I'm not sure they believe me. Still, a hundred and seven is too high even for an X5."

Max looked at him worriedly, and then she started toward the bed. Sam's hand on her arm brought her to a stop.

"Max," he said gently. "There's more. His EEG's flat. There's no measurable brain function. In truth, the respirator's all that's keeping him alive.

He finally let her go to him. Kneeling beside the bed, Max brushed silky strands of hair away from Alec's closed eyes. "Hey, hot stuff," she whispered in his ear. "Come one. Time to wake up. Sleepin' in is one thing, but enough is enough. I need you." And then she leaned over and touched her lips lightly to his beard stubbled cheek -- a kiss to awaken her "Sleeping Beauty."

Oddly enough, she half expected it to work. Hell, wasn't her life really just one long fairy tale with all the nightmarish qualities that implied? But Alec remained lying quietly, his chest rising and falling in rhythm to the respirator, too weak to breathe on his own. Her gaze trailed over his body, taking in the cuts ... bruises that probably meant broken bones ... TASER burns ... his arms were riddled with track marks ... Whoever had had him, they'd played with him like a toy, then discarded him. The only thing missing was a bullet wound ...

"Why was he brought here?" Max wondered out loud as she held Alec's hand, speaking to Sam who was standing behind her. "If they meant him to die, why bring him to a hospital?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe they changed their minds for some reason," he guessed.

"Or maybe they wanted me to watch him die," Max said darkly. "Maybe they -- whoever they are -- did this to Alec to punish me."

"Tortured him to within inches of death then dumped him back on your doorstep?" Sam said. "You're thinking it was the Breeding Cult then -- out for revenge?"

"Maybe," she said softly, once more stroking Alec's silken hair. She looked back at the doctor as he took a new chart from a nurse. "The blood tests?"

Sam nodded, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Max," he said quietly. "Whoever did this didn't intend for Alec to live. He's been injected with something that's running rampant in his body -- a type of 'branch' DNA that's decimating his immune system and attacking his X5-coded genetics. That's why he's got such a high fever. His body's fighting back. A literal war is going on within his cellular structure, and it's killing him."

"What are you saying, Sam?" Max asked, not completely understanding.

"I think that whoever did this was looking for a way to kill X5s," the doctor said, "maybe all transgenics. They tortured Alec -- probably for information -- then experimented on him. It could be they brought him to the hospital so we could do our best to save him. If we fail ... they'll know they've got a drug or catalyst of some kind that will be fatal to your kind. He's a Guinea pig, Max."

"Can we?" Max asked. "Can we save him?"

Sam shrugged. "I honestly don't know how," he said sadly, once more looking through the chart. "Frankly, I think the only one who can save Alec now is Alec himself. His body is incredibly engineered, even with the flaws in the brain chemistry. Maybe ... maybe he'll be strong enough. All we can do is wait and see."

"He sure wouldn't want to live like this," Max said, eying the respirator.

"No," Sam said gently. "He wouldn't. No one would. You're his closest relative, Max -- in a way. I guess the call is yours."

"Not yet," she said quickly, before thinking it through. "He needs a chance to fight ... to heal." She gently touched one of the inches-long knife cuts that painted her transgenic brother's torso. Medical personnel had stitched it up. That would leave a scar, for awhile at least. But just like the cuts so viciously inflicted on her face it would eventually heal and fade. "He's already getting better," she said adamantly. "His blood clotting ... the wounds closing ...

"It's not his outside wounds I'm worried about," Sam said. "It's the pathogen in his blood stream. If his antibodies can't fight off that alien DNA, his immune system is going to burn out of control and the resulting fever will bring on seizures followed quickly by death. I don't know if his coma's because of the toxin, or his elevated temperature, or a combination of both, but he won't be able to take anything more, Max. If he goes into convulsions, we'll lose him."

"I'm thinking I've already lost him," Max said softly, still holding Alec's hand and wishing so much that he'd open his eyes, but forcing herself to face the bitter truth instead of naive wishful thinking. "Take him off the respirator."

"But Max that will--"

"I said take him off! That way the choice will be his."

"And so brother, we meet at last." The handsome X5 dressed in jeans and a leather jacket stepped out from the darkness, into the light, where another forged in his exact likeness lay still and silent on a gleaming silver table, his naked body covered by nothing except a thin green sheet.

Ben cocked his head to one side, studying the other, his hazel-green eyes curious, yet also sad. "I thought maybe you'd have a chance," he said quietly, stepping a bit closer to the table as a spotlight held by an unseen hand seemed to deliberately illuminate that other near-perfect human form. "But I guess even Manticore's finest specimens are no match for reality, huh, 494?"

493 glanced up at the light, narrowing cat-green eyes in its harshness, then he reached out and gently touched the side of his maternal twin's face, seeking to catch a trace of the fast-fading warmth of life. "She killed me, you know," he said, his voice now just a shade away from a whisper. "Because I asked her to. She did it to save me ... and because she loved me ... and because I was a monster ... a wolf she couldn't allow to remain free among the human sheep." His finger traced his brother's perfect lips. "You're a wolf, too, 494. But her way of saving you wasn't to kill you, but rather to love you ... to bring you into her fold and put your feral nature to good use.

Ben almost seemed to expect an answer from the corpse on the table -- but he didn't get one. His brother merely continued to ... sleep.

"You were lucky, bro," 493 said as tears formed in his too bright eyes. "Maxie got to you in time, and I don't begrudge you that ... or her. I don't hold it against you that she came to your bed, even though I was the one who loved her first and longest. In a way ... because it was you ... my body shared her too, because you and me, bro -- we're of the same flesh. You loved her for both of us, Alec. But now--" Ben once more glanced up at the light and its unseen source, his brow lowering with anger. "You've got a choice to make. I know it's hard, because I once had to make it too. You can stay here ... with me ... and be forever at peace, or you can go back to her and her damn idealistic fight that will bring all of our kind nothing but pain and death in the end." The handsome X5 sighed heavily. "Because we will lose, you know. It's already 'in the cards' as they say." A sly smile. "In other words, the Blue Lady told me so. But the choice really is yours, brother. Peace and comfort for eternity, or pain and Max for whatever's left of your lifetime. What's that?" he said, narrowing his eyes as if the deathly still form on the table had asked a question. "What would I do if I had the choice now?

And then Ben smiled a genuine smile that was absolutely beautiful. "I think you know, brother," he said softly as the light began to dim. "I think you know. 'Cause after all, you and me -- we're the same, right down to the girl we both love."

"Doctor!" he heard a nurse called out.

He was lying in a beautiful woods with birds singing and a stream gurgling, an idyllic landscape that was something out of a dream, or perhaps far more. But when he glanced down he saw that he was wearing a blue hospital gown and there was a bracelet on his wrist, along with an I.V. tube and needles stuck in his arm ...

"Doctor!" the voice called, more loudly this time.

An arm chair took shape beneath a golden-leaved tree, then a night stand. Slowly, he saw a curtain form, covering over the blue sky and the birds, then the brook's sound was drowned out by the mechanical rhythmic beep of a heart monitor.

"He's waking up! The transgenic's waking up!"

Alec tried to hang onto the peace for just a few seconds longer, but his eyes were focusing on Earthly reality now, losing sight of the Heaven where he'd been. Instead of a wooded forest he saw only a nurse's station desk with an orderly lounging like a bum against the counter, and the birds songs ... They'd faded away to become the rumble of distant human voices.

Damn.

But Ben was right. He'd made his choice, just as his brother had. Alec knew deep down in the core of his soul that he belonged here with Max and his people right now ... that his job in this lifetime wasn't over. He was needed. He had a purpose. And most of all, he was loved.

"Hey," a familiar voice said as cool fingers scooped his hand into hers. "Welcome back." Max's scarred face and liquid dark eyes, brimming with tears, were looking down at him.

"Thought you were finally rid of me, didn't ya," Alec rasped, his mouth as dry as a desert and his tongue feeling too thick. He swallowed with difficulty, but still managed to return her kiss. "I don't remember anything," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Just that I was shot up with something, and they took me to a white place, and--"

"Shhh," Max said, placing a finger against his cracked lips. "Don't think about it, Alec. Think about me ... us ... Sam Carr says you're healing now, and that's all that matters. You're going to be fine. Whatever they tried to do to you -- they failed."

"I didn't tell 'em anything," Alec declared. "At least I don't think I did."

"It doesn't matter," Max said, the tears in her eyes making Alec's heart ache. No one had ever cried for him like that before ... "You're going to be fine."

A man's figure stepped out of the shadows, and Max whirled. It was the wee hours of the morning. Alec had fallen into a natural sleep and she was taking the time to head back to TC for awhile so she could let the others know first hand that their smart aleck boy was really back.

"Don't you wonder why he's not dead?" a voice said.

"He's not dead because Alec's a survivor," Max replied coldly, the cat pupils of her eyes widening to take in Donald Lydecker's weathered visage.

"No," the Colonel corrected her patiently. "494's not dead because I had him brought back to you."

"You're the one who had him admitted to the hospital?" Max said, not quite concealing the astonishment in her voice. She took a menacing step forward. "Then that also means you're the one who had him taken!"

"Not exactly," the grizzled Colonel said softly. "Max, I owe you for saving me from the Breeding Cult. X5-494 was taken by factions within our own government who hold to the Cultists' belief that the transgenics should be eliminated from the human gene pool. They wanted information from Alec -- information, by the way, our boy refused to give." Max noted the pride in Lydecker's voice at that fact -- that one of his "kids" hadn't succumbed to torture.

"So?" she prodded, balling hands into fists at her side and sorely tempted to simply wring the bastard's neck. After all, Lydecker had never brought her and her siblings anything but trouble, had he?

"So, they injected Alec with a test serum ... a compound that they thought would selectively kill an X5. He was supposed to die, Max. They were lax about his security then, and I was able to get him away ... bring him here. I doubted he seriously had a chance, but apparently 494's immune system was stronger than their pathogen. Someone, somewhere high up in the military hierarchy is going to be extremely displeased, once they find out. However, in the meantime, you've got your man back." Lydecker eyed her closely. "Alec is your man, isn't he?"

"Yes," Max said quietly, relaxing. "Alec's my man. But if you expect me to thank you, don't bother."

"No thanks necessary, Max," Lydecker replied softly. "The look on your face--" His voice caught in his throat, and she realized this was probably the first time the colonel had seen her scars, but to his credit, the man held his tongue ... didn't ask questions ... "--when 494 came out of that coma was gratitude enough for me," he finished.

And with that enigmatic and disturbing declaration, the Colonel turned and walked into the shadows, leaving Max Guevera alone in the night to ponder the meaning of his words.

--and also to ponder the beauty that was Alec.

Artwork courtesy of Valjean & JensenAckles.org

"Hey," he said from where he was lying contentedly sprawled on her bed (their bed?). "Does this qualify as make-up sex?"

"I don't know," Max replied snidely as she stood unabashed in her nakedness in front of him. Glancing to one side, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror she'd salvaged from among the antiques over at the Art Mall. Not long ago, she wouldn't even allow a mirror in her presence, but now somehow those scars on her face didn't seem to matter much any more. Besides -- like Alec had always told her -- one day they'd be gone.

And as for the scars inside ... the ones a rape victim always carries ... well, Alec was a big help there too. He was the only man she'd allowed to touch her after that awful night, and the past few weeks had been incredibly lonely for her without him.

Then ... she thought she'd lost him forever.

Now, she wanted nothing except to make up for lost time. "Tell me that I'm beautiful," she demanded.

"You're beautiful," Alec said, his brows drawing down in a puzzled little frown. Then he had to add a typical caveat. "So am I. So what? We both know that doesn't mean shit when it comes to the important things in life."

"Listen to yourself," Max said quietly, sitting down on the bed beside him even though she longed to jump his bones. "You sure have changed your tune. It used to be that X5-494 practically wallowed in his handsomeness."

"I did not!" Alec protested.

"Come on, Alec," Max said, her tone gleeful. "You know damn well that you love it when chicks check out your butt."

"I know I love it when you check out my butt," he said huskily, his voice taking on that deeper richer quality it always did when he was becoming aroused. But then he, too, sobered. "You sure you really want me like this, Max?" he asked. "Here, in Terminal City? I mean, overseas was one thing. No one but us knew. But now ... the gang isn't stupid. They're gonna realize we're together. I'm not gonna go around hidin' it."

"Neither am I," she said, sliding beneath the covers and into his arms.

"You wanna know what it's like bein' dead?" he whispered as he began kissing the side of her throat.

She stiffened. "You remember?"

"Some of it. I know that I'm not afraid to go back to where I was -- someday. I also know that I've got a purpose here in life, and it doesn't have anything to do with how handsome my face is. Just like your purpose in life doesn't have anything to do with how beautiful you were, are, or will be in the future." His fingers found her full lips ... traced one of her scars ... then lingered on the tip of her nose. "Just like they say, Maxie. Beauty is only skin deep. In the grand scheme of things, it means nothing."

She touched one of the healing wounds on his chest. "I know," she said.

And then he kissed her, and made love to her ... all night long.

THE END