DISCLAIMER: All DARK ANGEL characters belong to James Cameron and Charles Eglee (Cameron Eglee Productions) and DARK ANGEL itself belongs to FOX.

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Photo courtesy of StillFrame

She hadn't simply run to Logan. It just wasn't in Max's nature to give up so easily. Now, however, it was night and she really had run all out of options.

"Max, Mole said he took a bullet in the head."

Logan's gentle hand on her shoulder did nothing to help soften the words. "I know," she said thickly, her back to him in their bed as she lay curled in a fetal position, knees to chest. Cradling her face on her folded hands, she stared at the dark wood paneled wall.

"Between a head wound ... and the icy waters of the bay ..."

"I said I know, Logan!" She hadn't meant that to sound so strident, and immediately softened her tone, looking back over her shoulder at the man who loved her so very much. "It's just that Alec ... well you know how he is. He's got this knack for survival. It's sort of an X5 thing. I keep expecting him to saunter in right as rain and with a big smirk on his face saying he's been having sex with blonde triplets or some such typical Alec-excuse."

"If he could, he'd have shown up at Terminal City by now," Logan said. "It's been almost twenty-four hours." The older man thought a moment, then added, "And I have a feeling that triplets might be a little much for even a man-about-town like Alec to handle. Twins maybe ... but not triplets."

"I just need to know for certain what happened to him," Max said, ignoring Logan's lame attempt at levity as tears once more pricked her eyes. "Mole, Dix, Luke, and half a dozen of our X5s and X6s scoured the shore until dark. Everyone in TC is really upset and they all want to help. I went and looked in all his usual haunts ... the bars ... that pool hall where he likes to hustle when he needs extra cash ... even the Needle. I keep worrying that he's out there somewhere hurt ... or captured ... There's still a huge world market for Manticore technology. What if he was just injured and grabbed by someone and sold or--" She caught the look in Logan's eye and stopped babbling. Grasping at straws wasn't going to help anything.

"Matt Sung said he'd call if any bodies washed up on shore or were fished out of the bay," Logan said gently. "At this point, Max, that's the best we can do. But the hard truth is, we might never find him."

"I know," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly and picturing Alec's face, as if doing so would somehow conjure a clue as to her friend's fate.

"Terminal City will survive without him, Max," Logan continued, as if that would somehow make her feel better. "I know he's important to your people ... and to you. I'm the first to admit he's done a pretty decent job of keeping the Art Mall afloat, turning a profit even, and he's also an effective representative for you guys in City Council. What with his smooth ways, no-nonsense bearing, and gift of gab he's one hell of a front man ... good P.R. for Terminal City in more ways than one, not to mention someone who won't back down when it comes to a fight."

"Gift of gab," Max said with the tiniest of smiles. "That's the polite way of putting it. Yeah, Alec's pretty good at what he does, so long as I keep him on a tight leash," she added, remembering the frequent heated conversations she and Alec had over the way to handle Seattle's decidedly anti-Freak politicians, Alec being one to negotiate nicely up to a point then resort to more forceful measures while she preferred a peaceful resolution above all else. There was also Alec's penchant for turning deals on the side that she had to constantly be wary of ... and his unpredictability ... and his sneakiness ... and the irritating way he had of getting under her skin and seeing through all her excuses ... his arguing ... his laughing and talking and joking and smiling, and the feel of his hard body as he caught her when she fell from a ledge that one time during a heist and he held her against himself for just a bit too long--

"Max!"

Max blinked, realizing she'd been drifting off to sleep. "What?" she said wearily, lifting herself up on one elbow as the loose white t-shirt she was wearing slid off her shoulder.

Logan was holding his cell phone. "Matt just called. Didn't you hear the ring? A body washed up on shore down in the industrial district -- a male with a barcode on the back of his neck, or at least part of one."

*****

She wasn't going to cry any more. She was beyond that, just like she'd gotten beyond that when she'd broken Ben's neck ... when Tinga had died in her arms ... when Zack had been butchered ... when Biggs had been crucified ... when Cece had been shot ...

Another brother down ... gone ... dead. So what else was new in her life? Funny, but Max had always thought that once she was free to be with Logan ... to love him ... everything would be so much better. Instead, there were always more problems ... tragedies ... deaths ... It never stopped.

Damn it, Alec, why did you have to do this to me? Make me rely on you ... like you ... lo--"

"The body's partially decomposed," Matt Sung said, interrupting Max's sad revere. "The face is unrecognizable." He threw an apologetic glance in her direction. "Fish ... nibbling ..."

Max held up her hand. She got it. "His bar code," she said softly, her eyes now on the sheet draped corpse lying on the autopsy table in the city morgue where she and Logan and come to identify one of her own. The size was about right. Alec was ... had been ... six feet tall, 178 pounds, lean and athletic ... perfect ...

Sung pulled back the sheet.

Fish ... nibbling ... Oh, God, that beautiful face ...

Max turned away, bile rising in her throat at the horrific sight ... the bloody mess that had once been her gorgeous brother.

"Oh," Sung suddenly said, reading down a sheet of paper on the clipboard in his hand.

"Oh, what?" Logan said as he put his arms around Max and tried to ease her trembling.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize they'd completed the examination. I really thought it was your guy -- Alec -- but--"

"But what?" Max said, looking up at Matt but keeping her eyes averted from the mess on the table.

"No bar code. At first they thought there was one, but further examination showed it was just an ordinary tattoo, apparently of an angel of all things. With the decomposition it was hard to tell, but it was on the back of his neck."

"Are you certain?" Logan said, boldly eying the corpse almost as if willing it to be Alec.

However, Max was looking at something else now -- the body's hands. Alec had big hands ... a soldier's hands ... large boned and utilitarian yet not coarse ... genetically designed to compliment the rest of his bio weaponry. The hands of the young man on the table were delicate ... the fingers slender and graceful. Alec had held her too many times for Max to not know what his hands looked like ... felt like ...

"It's not him," she said softly. "Let's go."