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*****

They withdrew the paralytic gradually, decreasing the dosage until Alec was triggering the respirator on his own and it was removed. He could open his eyes now, too ... see his surroundings ... the white walls ... the medical monitoring equipment ... the doctors and orderlies as they came and went without so much as a pretty nurse in sight. But he still couldn’t speak, or move, and the longer the X5 lay on his back in the bed staring up at the ceiling the more certain he became that his days -- maybe even his hours -- were numbered.

There was pain now too -- a deep ache in his chest and a cramping in his immobile limbs that set his teeth on edge and made the blissful escape of sleep all but impossible.

“Do you feel that?” a nameless medic wearing a surgical mask asked as he did something to Alec’s bare foot. “Blink twice if you do.”

At first Alec thought it was phantom pain, or nerve damage manifesting itself, but he honestly did feel the sharp prick of the metal tine when it pierced his heel. Slowly ... hesitantly ... he blinked twice.

“Good,” the doctor said, a smile moving the material of the mask. To an intern he said, “Discontinue the dosage. It’s time we got this Unit back on its feet.”

Three hours later Alec uttered his first words in weeks: “Fuck you,” he rasped to an orderly who, while checking his healing bullet wounds, made a snide comment about “kitty cat” DNA. Which is also when he began thinking more about Max.

*****

She was conscious for the better part of a week -- about to start physical therapy and wondering where the hell he was -- when they told her about X5-494.

“He’s not dead, Max,” Colonel Lydecker said. “But he’s in bad shape. We’re doing all we can for him, but we might have to let him go.”

“Who shot him?” she asked quietly as she sat in her hospital bed propped up by pillows. Her head still hurt some, but she’d survived the surgery with all of her motor functions and senses intact. Now, after three weeks in an induced coma, it was simply a matter of regaining her strength and muscle coordination.

Lydecker looked away at the question. “We don’t know,” he finally said. “The incident is still under investigation and it’s not like the boy’s has been able to tell us anything.”

“I want to see him.”

“That’s not wise right now.”

“I need to be with him ... he needs me.”

“He won’t even know you’re there, Max. Regain your own strength first. Maybe by then he’ll have improved.”

“What are his injuries”

“Three bullet wounds, one of which damaged his heart, and a broken neck. He lost a lot of blood, and we have no idea what kind of neural damage he’s suffered. All we’ve been able to do is repair what we can, keep him breathing, and wait for his body to hopefully heal.”

“He needs me.”

“He needs time.”

She looked up at Lydecker then, her brown eyes intense. “Take me to him.”

They had -- taken Max to Alec. However, looking at him just lying there, his body draped in sheets and hooked to all those machines, had reminded her so much of what Manticore had done to Zack that she began to shake. “Kill him,” she said softly, actually moving toward the respirator. “Turn it off and let him die.”

“Not yet,” Lydecker said. “There’s still hope. His EEG is improving, Max.”

“Let him die!”

Four guards had to forcibly remove her from 494’s room. After that they hadn’t let her see him any more.

And then one day several weeks later Lydecker had calmly entered her quarters and informed Max that Alec was awake, recovering, and asking (make that demanding) to see her.

*****

“We make a pretty pair, don’t we,” Alec snarked, raising his voice so he could be heard above the hum as he and Max pedaled exercise bikes side-by-side in Manticore’s rehab wing. Hooked by wires and head gear to machines that monitored their heart rates, blood pressures, and brain waves, the two X5s were giving the workout their best, both anxious to receive a clean bill of health so they could resume their lives.

Max eyed Alec’s naked torso, noting the lean muscles rippling beneath the flesh, the scars from his bullet wounds and surgery already fading and soon to be gone courtesy of his excellent genetics. “Pretty won’t get us out of here,” she answered him. “I’ll feel better when we’re on the outside.”

“You really think they’re not gonna let us go?”

Max shrugged as she slowed her pedaling, reaching up to adjust one of the diodes attached to her forehead that was itching. “Have ever known ‘Deck to do something just out of the kindness of his heart?”

Alec made a face, but didn’t argue.

“You still can’t remember who shot you?” she asked.

Alec pressed his lips into a thin line at that. “No,” he said simply.

“And you don’t know why you were at that San Francisco warehouse?”

“No.” He looked over at her, one eyebrow raised. “Give it up,” he said. “I have. The docs tell me it’ll probably never come back, something about nearly bleeding to death before they got me back here ... lack of oxygen to the brain wipin’ out my memory of that day.”

“Alec, you need to know who wants you dead.”

A crooked smile as he stopped pedaling and began pulling the diodes off of his temples. “That could be a very long list, Max,” he said as he reached for a towel and wiped his brow, his short hair dark and damp with sweat. He shrugged. “My best guess though is it was our old friends.”

“Breeding Cult?”

He tilted his head sideways, the smile rueful this time. “How ‘bout you?” he asked. “Headaches better?”

“Some,” Max said. “They say it could be months, though, before they’re gone. And I really need to watch my serotonin levels.”

“They told me that, too,” Alec said, hopping off the bike and reaching for a bigger towel that he used to wipe his armpits. “I guess bein’ in a coma for several weeks is kinda hard on the old brain chemistry.”

She reached out and touched his arm, the pedals of her own machine still. “We’ll never be free of them, will we?” Then she glanced around the room. “We’ll always be part of Manticore ... manipulated by them.”

She could tell by the look in Alec’s eyes that he wanted to say “no,” but -- as always -- he wasn’t afraid to tell her the truth, even when it was brutal. “You’re right,” he said. “We’ll always be soldiers, we’ll always be transgenic -- not human -- and we’ll always be Manticore. I came to terms with that a long time ago, Max. And I thought you had too.”

“I did,” she said, looking away toward the door of the rehab room that led out into a hallway of the Gillette military facility. “I used to want to be human so badly ... to pretend I wasn’t different ... to pretend Manticore had never happened ... but--” She regarded him thoughtfully, and then a small smile softened pouty lips. “I envy you, Alec. I always have. You’re proud of what you are and who you are.”

He shrugged. “Most of the time,” he admitted, although she also sensed the caveat to that statement that she knew included a dead girl named “Rachel.”

“I’m glad we hooked up,” she said, also sensing that Alec needed to hear that from her. “When I’m not sure who I am, you help me remember.”

She saw by the look in those hazel-green eyes that she’d just pleased him immensely, and Max was glad. Alec deserved some happiness in his life, and God knew he’d been through enough lately -- even more than she had.”

“Lydecker said he wanted to see us after our rehab session,” Alec commented as he reached for his grey t-shirt, in typical fashion taking her compliment at face value and not needing elaboration.

“Let’s go then,” Max said, hopping down off her own bike and picking up another towel. But I hope he doesn’t mind the smell of X5 sweat.”

“We could shower first,” Alec said, looking toward the locker room with its very public gang showers, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

They hadn’t made love since his injury and her surgery, and for the first time in a very long while Max was tempted, her trauma from the rape beginning to recede in light of the more recent fear of losing her mate, and her body’s own natural urges starting to surface (her heat cycle approaching). After all, the place was pretty empty this time of day and chances were no soldier who observed them would mind. But she wasn’t really in the mood for an audience.

“Let’s get this interview over with first,” she said, softening her words with a light kiss to Alec’s stubbled cheek. “I need to know if we’re free to go, or if we’re prisoners again. Then maybe I’ll be more into it.”

Alec looked a little bit disappointed, but he also seemed relieved she was even considering the possibility. “Later then,” he said lightly.

“Later.”

*****

Lydecker was waiting for them in his office -- and he wasn’t alone.

“What are you doing here?” Max said. “It’s a long way from San Francisco.”

“I’ve been checking in on you on a regular basis,” Logan Cale replied, sitting easily in the straight-back chair pulled close to Lydecker’s desk. He glanced at the Colonel. “And I also have business here.”

“Business?” Alec said, like Max declining a seat, preferring to stand although he wasn’t sure why. They’d taken time to don regulation t-shirts and khakis after their workout but he still felt sticky with sweat, Cale’s cool, well-groomed demeanor a sharp contrast to his own rather disheveled appearance. Alec raised his chin a fraction. Logan was staring intently at him, the look in those cool blue-green eyes oddly challenging.

“Mr. Cale has been engaged in an ongoing partnership with Manticore,” Lydecker said. “His ‘Eyes Only’ broadcasts have been very useful with regards to our attempts to locate and eradicate the Breeding Cult.”

Alec’s eyebrows rose. “Oh really,” he said.

“Really,” Logan said with a broad smile as he stretched long legs out.

Which is when Alec realized the man was moving without the exo-skeleton. “Been dippin’ into the transgenic blood again?” he asked dryly.

“No,” Logan replied. “As the Colonel said, I’m in a partnership now with Manticore. I provide them services and they’ve given me something in return.”

“They fixed your spinal injury,” Max said, smiling ... happy for him (a powerful genuine emotion that made Alec’s jaw clench). “I’m glad for you Logan.”

Logan stood, and Alec noticed that the man was a couple of inches taller than he remembered.

“They did more than that,” Logan said, with a look toward the Colonel. “They made me better in every way.”

A chill shot down Alec’s spine.

Max realized the implication too. “You didn’t,” she said, the words hushed. “Logan, tell me you didn’t let them--”

“Put an implant in my head,” Logan said easily, his smile still broad and his eyes twinkling. “Best thing that’s ever happened to me, Max.” He held up his hand and flexed it. “I’m now not only Logan Cale, but also Y-21.” He eyed Alec. “Stronger, faster, better in every way than your obsolete X5 lover here.”

“Logan--!” Max said, the muscles of her throat working as she sought words.

“Damn,” Alec hissed. “Damn you to Hell, Cale.”

“Why?” Logan asked, and for the first time Alec realized the man wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Because I can heal almost instantly? Because I can run faster and jump higher than you? Because I’ve got all of the benefits and am still human while you’re not?” He narrowed his eyes. “Because I can beat your ass from here to Sunday and you can’t do a thing about it, Alec?” He eyed Max in a leering way. “Because I’m now the best man?”

“You’re not best anything,” Alec spat, the muscles of his jaw working as his fingers balled into fists at his side. “You’re a monster.” He shot a harsh look at Lydecker. “How could you do this? How could Manticore?”

“Do what?” the Colonel asked, the words not innocent but practical. “Create a better soldier than you, 494? And gift a friend of Manticore’s with a little favor that allowed him to walk again. Just be glad I was able to convince the Committee that you still had some worth to us 494 or else you’d have died in that San Francisco hospital. I didn’t have to come riding to the rescue, you know.” He looked at Max. “And I didn’t have to save you either, 452. But I was able to convince Command that your special blood might still be needed as a prototype some day if the Breeding Cult’s plague ever gets out of control.”

Alec couldn’t take his eyes off of the new, improved Logan Cale. “What now?” he asked, his voice deep with barely controlled rage. “You keep Max and me prisoners for the rest of our lives because we’re ‘special’?”

“We probably should,” Lydecker said, the pronouncement far too easily said for Alec’s liking. “But unfortunately, with our Y soldier program in full swing, the two of you would present a problem.”

“A problem?” Max said, her eyes still on Logan and looking as if she didn’t quite believe this was happening.

“You represent a past failure,” Lydecker said. “And the new Units are programmed to eliminate soldiers on the outside who aren’t considered worthy. Not to mention the Committee’s concern about keeping your feline/human genetics from contaminating the world’s gene pool.” He looked Max square in the eye. “You and 494 represent what’s known as a ‘good try’ in the scientific world, but your kind ... the transgenics ... are a dead end. We’ve got most of your people confined here in Gillette where they’ll live out the rest of their natural life spans in a comfortable, but controlled environment. By rights, you and 494 should join them. It’s really the only way to protect you from extermination by your--” He glanced at Logan, “--successors.”

Alec took hold of Max’s hand. “We get it. We’re leaving.”

“Max,” Logan said. “I can persuade them make an exception for you. I have some power here. Stay with me and I’ll protect you, even if they won’t let you have my children.” He looked at Alec. “You don’t have to go with him. He’ll never be as good for you as I am, and he’ll never love you as much.”

Alec usually kept his temper under pretty firm control, but something about the way Logan said that, not to mention the way he was looking so possessively at Max, put “control” way at the end of his vocabulary list.

His spring was catlike, and his grip on Logan’s throat deadly. If Cale had still been human his neck would have snapped like a twig. However, “Eyes Only” no longer truly warranted the title of mere human. Instead of taking his opponent to the ground Alec found himself flying backwards through the air to hit the wall of Lydecker’s office hard enough to shatter plaster, the cement behind it brutally hard on his barely healed body. Through stars, he saw Max leap toward Logan as well, only to be clutched in a vicious bear hug that left her squirming and helpless in the arms of a man she’d once loved.

“Come with me,” Logan said hoarsely in her ear. “Max, I still love you. Please, let me keep you safe.”

For the first time since they’d entered the room Alec saw true humanity in Logan’s eyes, and with a pang he realized the man wasn’t lying. He honestly did love Max -- and he could almost sympathize. Picking himself up off the floor, breathing hard (with emotion, not exertion), he looked at Max. “Choose,” he said hoarsely. “Me or him.”

“Let me go,” Max said to Logan.

Y-21 did, releasing her so her feet touched the floor. Brushing herself off and flipping her hair back over her shoulders, Max straightened, looked defiantly at Lydecker for a moment, then turned and very deliberately walked to Alec’s side. “Choice made,” she said softly to the other two men. “And if either one of you hurts him, or tries to take him away from me, I’ll hunt you down and kill you” -- a threat that carried more weight than anything that had yet been said in that room. Then she stood slightly on tiptoe and, wrapping both arms around his neck, pressed her lips to X5-494’s.

*****

One hour later a military transport helicopter took X5-494 and X5-452 to the Denver area where they were left off in a secluded mountain clearing -- free, but with nothing but the clothes on their backs, a bottle of tryptophan, a cell phone in Alec’s pocket that Lydecker ordered him to keep, and a dire warning from the Colonel to stay out of trouble.

But Alec didn’t care, and Max didn’t care either. All that mattered to either of them was that they were alive and still together.