ARCHIVE: No

This is a stand-alone story following the events of Max Allan Collins' DARK ANGEL novel SKIN GAME -- author's note

Photo courtesy of Jensen Ackles World

*****

"What do you want?" Max said nastily, not bothering to look in the direction of his soft knock.

Alec wasn't sure if her surly attitude was reserved just for him, or if she would have greeted any intruder that way at the moment. He supposed it didn't really matter. Besides, he was used to Max's attitude, and had learned long ago to take it in stride.

"Max," he said. "I need to talk to you."

"So talk," she said, still looking down at the papers spread on the desk in front of her -- warehouse blueprints from the looks of them.

"I can't do that job with you tonight."

That got her attention. "What?" she practically yelled, turning around at last, anger furrowing her pretty brow. "Alec, if you're going to tell me you've got some scam going that's interfering with an important job like this I'll--"

"It's nothin' like that," Alec said quickly.

"Then why can't you go?"

"Because of this," he said quietly. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and held them out. They were trembling, not terribly, but still visibly shaking.

"Shit," Max said, closing her eyes for a second, collecting her thoughts. Then she opened them, and fixed him with a wicked stare. "Why didn't you tell me you needed Tryptophan?"

"Because it's none of your business," Alec replied. He hadn't meant to snap.

"It is when it affects the welfare of our people," Max pointed out. "You've got important duties in here, Alec. We can't afford for you to be off your game."

"I know," Alec said. "Which is why I'm tellin' you up front I shouldn't go on the warehouse heist tonight."

Max reached into an inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small pill bottle. "Here," she said, tossing him the container which he deftly caught. "Take these. I've got more. Two pills ought to take care of it. I'll ask Logan about getting you your own supply. I know quite a few of the other X5's in here have been taking Tryptophan for awhile, so I'm not really surprised Manticore's so-called 'treatment' finally wore off on you as well." She gave him a little smile, a comradely gesture Alec appreciated, and added, "Guess we're all in the same boat, huh?" Then she caught his eyes. "Hey," she added softly. "Don't let it scare you. I've been managing my seizures by myself half my life. Sometimes I go through a bad spell, but they haven't killed me yet. You'll be fine."

Alec turned the pill bottle over in his trembling hand and shook his head ruefully. She didn't understand. "Max," he said, his voice still quiet. "I've been takin' Tryptophan for months. I already took six pills this morning." He glanced at a clock on the wall. "Not even three hours ago."

He waited a beat, and saw the realization hit. Dark brown eyes widened. Then, straightening perceptibly in the chair, the scowl line once more appeared on her brow. "Months?" Max said. "You've been having seizures for months and you never mentioned it to me?"

Alec shrugged. "It was no big deal. I'd had them as a kid, before Manticore supposedly fixed the problem. I wasn't really surprised when they came back. All those pills they made us pop back at the base had to have been more than vitamins."

"And you were selling your doses at that," Max pointed out, thinking back to her first meeting with Alec and the money he took from a guard in return for that small cellophane wrapped packet of pills.

"Not the anti-seizure medication," Alec said. "I'm not stupid Max. 'Sides, they gave us those at night, before lights out, and watched while we swallowed 'em."

She nodded, seeing his point. "Is this morning the worst the tremors have been?" she asked, her demeanor now one more of concern than condemnation.

"Yeah."

"Six pills?"

"Yeah."

"Alec, this isn't good."

"No, it isn't," he said with a very heavy sigh.

Now it was Max who chewed on her lower lip. Then, reaching a decision, she rose from the chair and took hold of his hand. "Come with me."

"Where we goin?"

"Logan's."

"Why?"

"We need to have Dr. Carr see you before this gets any worse."

"Maybe it won't get any worse. Maybe it will go away." Alec knew he was trying to convince himself as much as Max, but he still had to say the words out loud. And damn, he just hated doctors. "You said you'd had bad spells before. Maybe this is just a bad spell for me."

"Maybe," Max conceded. "But six pills is an awful lot of Tryptophan, Alec. And it's not working." A thought occurred. "Are you sure your pills are pure? Where did you get them?"

"I lifted a five hundred count bottle from Harbor Lights two months ago," Alec said. And before Max could say the obvious, he added, "Not Kelpy's tainted kind of pills either. The real thing. They're pharmaceutical grade. I had Dix do an analysis last week just to be sure. 'Sides, they've worked fine up until recently."

Max nodded, accepting his words. She knew he was way too smart to take pills of unknown content, especially after the Kelpy incident. She looked down at her hand in his. "Come on. We've got to get you some help."

*****

Now, it was Dr. Carr's turn to shake his head. Alec, seated at Logan's kitchen table with his shirt off, couldn't quite dispel the butterflies that were fluttering in his stomach at the medic's expression. The examination had been brief, the symptoms obvious, the problem a well known one among the X5s. No mystery there. But ...

"What is it, Doc?" he said, forcing a small smile. "I'm dyin', right?"

"You might be," Dr. Carr replied.

Alec had been joking, but Carr wasn't -- and suddenly those butterflies began doing somersaults.

Max, seated in a chair across the table from him, jumped into the conversation. "What do you mean he might be dying?"

Alec noticed the tightness in her voice, but the fact Max had just let slip that she cared about him was a bit beside the point at the moment. He craved Max's friendship and approval like a dog craves a bone (not that he'd ever let her know) but what good would a growing relationship with his partner in crime be if he wasn't going to be around to enjoy it? She'd put flowers on his grave maybe from time to time?

Carr glanced at Logan who was standing in the doorway. Eyes Only had a look of grave concern on his face, the blue eyes behind his spectacles troubled. He'd been through this with Max before, Alec guessed -- the seizures. Cale also had to know that what happened to X5-494 might also eventually happen to his beloved X5-452. If the Tryptophan wasn't working ... If Manticore's X5s had an expiration date to go with their bar codes ...

The tremors were getting worse. Alec felt like he was shaking with cold. It took an effort to keep his teeth from chattering. He knew he was on the threshold of a grand mal seizure, in which case he'd black out. Not the plan.

"Can't you give him something?" Max implored.

"What?" Carr replied. "Phenobarbitol? A lot of good a sedative-cum-truth serum would do on a fully conditioned super soldier. That's the problem, Max. You guys are built to be immune to so many drugs. And your seizure condition is deeply rooted in your brain chemistry, the lack of serotonin. It's not something a barbiturate or anti-seizure medication can really affect."

"More Tryptophan then?" Max tried.

"Won't do any good."

Alec was looking from Max to Carr and then to Max again, feeling rather invisible while they tossed his potential treatments back and forth.

"What's the worst that can happen?" Alec asked, needing to seize control of the conversation. "Give it to me straight, doc." He glanced across the table. "Max needs to know too."

"The worst?" Carr said, eying the young transgenic sadly. "Your seizures will increase in intensity until your nervous system overloads and you fall into a coma. Then you'll die."

"Max has gotten pretty bad in the past," Logan interjected quickly. "Tryptophan always helped. Why isn't it working Alec? Why can't we increase the dose until it does?"

"His system's already saturated with Tryptophan," Carr said. "Any additional would simply be excreted in the sweat and urine, a waste of the drug. For some reason his body's not able to attain a balance, his brain chemistry is under stress perhaps ..." His voice trailed off. He was looking at the half-healed bullet wound on Alec's shoulder, at the knife cuts White had inflicted (stitch marks were still clearly visible), and at the fading red burn marks on his smooth muscular chest (courtesy of Kelpy's shock prod). The cuts around Alec's wrists where he'd so fiercely fought his shackles had scabbed over, but all-in-all it was obvious the transgenic had been playing rough.

"You've been injured." It wasn't a question.

"Nothin' that won't heal," Alec said a bit defensively, glancing down at his left shoulder. A few more weeks and there won't even be scars."

"Any other stress on your body recently?" Carr questioned. "Have you been sick, running a fever, vomiting?"

"I feel fine," Alec said truthfully. "Except for this shit." His fingers were clenched into fists now, his toes curled in his boots, as he tried to control the shaking.

Max stood and went into Logan's bedroom. When she returned she had a blanket that she draped over his bare shoulders. The warmth, and her attention, felt good. "Don't forget about the shock prod," she said low in his ear. "You took a huge double jolt from Kelpy last week and were out for almost twenty-four hours."

"Shock prod?" Carr said, his ears perking up. "You were recently submitted to one of those nasty things?"

"In spades," Alec admitted wearily. "Damn near killed me, or so I'm told."

Dr. Carr's eyes now brightened.

"What?" Max said, her voice hopeful at last. "You thought of something?"

"It's just a theory," Carr said. "But I'm wondering if perhaps the seizures are bad right now simply because Alec's body is overworked. The stem cells in his blood are trying feverishly to repair the physical damage of repeated wounds, while his nervous system has undergone the worst kind of insult -- near electrocution. It stands to reason a natural underlying condition like the seizures might peak at a time like this."

"Wait a minute," Max said. "I hate to be a kill joy, but I had a heart transplant back at Manticore. My body couldn't have undergone much more of an 'insult' than that, and my seizures didn't peak by any means. In fact, I didn't even have any."

"But Manticore was treating you for the seizures, Max," Logan pointed out. "They had something better than Tryptophan, too. Too bad we don't know what it was."

"True," Max said, looking closely at Alec.

"Max," Alec said. "I don't feel so good. I think I need to lie down for awhile."

"My bed," Logan said quickly, a glance in Max's direction seeking her approval. "If this thing is ever going pass, he needs complete rest and quiet, as well as someone constantly watching over him. Coma issues aside, someone can die during a grand mal seizure by choking to death."

"Thanks so much for that happy thought, Logan," Alec said through chattering teeth. "But as for the offer of a place to crash -- I think I just might take you up on that." He tried to stand, his knees gave way, and Max was instantly at his side, holding him up.

"Come on, Medium Fella," she said softly. "I'm taking you to bed."

"Promises, promises," Alec said, smiling faintly through the agony of muscle cramps that were bringing tears to his hazel eyes.

"Shut up," Max said. But there was nothing but affection in the words as she half led, half carried him to Logan's bedroom.

*****

She lay on the bed beside him, her hand gently stroking his hair -- vigilant, determined that death wasn't going to steal another member of her family away.

"Sorry about the heist," Alec said in the dark that wasn't really "dark" to their transgenic cat-eyes. A sound briefly drew their attention to the door. Max smiled. They didn't need enhanced senses to hear Logan snoring away on the couch in the other room.

"We'll get the equipment some other night," she said softly.

"You could have taken Kade, or Beemer," Alec said.

Max snorted. "Please. You think I'd risk my ass on those amateurs."

"They're X5, Max," Alec said. "You know they could do the job."

"I know no such thing. Alec, almost all of the X5's in Terminal City have just barely been surviving on the outside. They never had the training you did back at Manticore, the exposure to the real world. They're just soldiers ... soldiers who need to be given orders in order to function."

"I'm just a soldier too, Max, when you come right down to it." Another spasm wracked his body and she took him into her arms, trying to hold him still.

"Shit," Alec whispered, swallowing with difficulty. "Shit it hurts."

"I know," Max murmured sympathetically. "Believe me I know. Just hold on. Dr. Carr says it will pass, the Tryptophan will kick in if you just rest and stay quiet. Here." She let go of him to reach to the bedside table where Logan had left a glass of milk. "Drink."

Alec, as soon as the shaking eased, propped himself up on his elbows and let Max put the glass to his lips. Lapping the white liquid, forcing himself to drink, he couldn't help thinking how absurd this whole situation was -- him helpless in Logan's bed with Max trying to nurse him back to health, as if she didn't have far more important things to do right now in her life.

"Chocolate would be better," he said, licking the remnants of the milk mustache off his stubbled upper lip. Max's cool fingers wiped away the liquid he missed, her touch lingering on his cheek. "Chocolate it will be," Max promised. "Tomorrow, when someone can get out and the stores open. In the meantime ..." Her worried eyes looked down at him in the dark like a beautiful cat's. "Just don't pass out on me. Dr. Carr said it was important you not pass out."

"Which is why we're here talkin' all night in the dark," Alec said. "Our own little slumber party." He smiled weakly. "Just my luck. To finally get you in bed only to be too damn sick to enjoy it."

"Don't, Alec," Max said, her voice suddenly sounding odd. "You and I aren't like that."

"I know."

"I love Logan."

"I know. But a boy can't help wishin', especially one with an active imagination like mine. And remember, there is that whole breeding partner thing between us. So you can't blame me, really." He was babbling, but he realized it too late.

"Alec, I love you like a brother."

"I'm not your brother."

"I know, but--"

"Max," Alec interrupted. "I think we need to change the subject."

"Good idea," Max agreed.

The relief in her voice hurt, but Alec knew it was his own fault. Why the hell had he said something that dumb ... that suggestive ... to begin with? The last thing in the world he wanted was to get involved sexually with a woman who was in love with another man. Hadn't he been hurt enough already by loving a girl he could never have?

He cleared his throat, still feeling the need to talk if for no other reason than to stay awake. "Kade or Beemer are capable of the heist," he repeated.

"No," Max said. "We'll pull the job when you're better. Kade and Beemer weren't trained for solo missions at Manticore."

"You mean they aren't assassins."

"I mean they don't have your street smarts and your ability to learn. None of the regular X5s do, at least according to Logan. My Unit, and our twins, were special ... better."

"What does that mean?" But Alec never got the answer because the tremor that suddenly grabbed hold of him shook his body like a rag doll -- a tremor that really did steal his consciousness away.

*****

Alec opened his eyes. "Aghh!" he yelled, instinctively bringing his fists up at the sight of the huge dog face so close to his.

"It's just me!" Joshua declared, grasping his friend's wrists in his frighteningly strong hands as he flailed. "It's me, Alec! Don't be afraid!"

"I'm not afraid," Alec panted, wrenching away from Joshua's grip. Looking out the window at the morning sun, he got his bearings. Logan's room. Max holding him all night. Right ... "What happened to me? Where's Max?"

"Max had to go back to Terminal City for awhile," Joshua said, nodding sagely. "She asked me to stay with you, said seizure bitch was bad."

"Seizure bitch is bad, Josh," Alec said, settling back down on the pillow and wondering if his head really was going to fall off. "God, my brain hurts," he moaned, putting a hand across his face and closing his eyes against the suddenly too bright morning light.

"Max says you're going to be fine, Alec," Joshua replied, noticing his friend's distress and crossing the bedroom to lower the blinds. "Max didn't leave until you were asleep, breathing right, not unconscious. She's been gone less than an hour."

Alec took a deep breath and realized that, in spite of his aching muscles and throbbing migraine, the tremors seemed to be gone. Maybe the worst had passed like Dr. Carr said. Maybe his messed up body was getting its metabolic balancing act together at last.

Joshua picked up a bottle from the nightstand and shook four pills into his huge hand. "Tryptophan," he said, handing them and a glass of fresh milk to his friend (chocolate Alec noticed -- someone had been shopping). "Max said to take them as soon as you were awake."

Without argument, Alec swallowed the pills, wiped the milk from his mouth with the back of his hand, and looked hopefully toward the door and the kitchen.

"Alec hungry?" Joshua asked, sounding awfully eager for some reason.

"Alec hungry," Alec replied, his stomach growling. The migraine was making him feel a bit nauseous, but he also knew that low blood sugar wasn't helping matters any.

"Joshua make pancakes!" the dogman declared happily, obviously far more enthused about breakfast than his invalid friend was. Alec winced at the thought of Joshua playing chef in Logan's immaculate kitchen, but Eyes Only didn't seem to be around to put a stop to it, so what the hell.

"Logan with Max," Joshua answered his question before he asked.

"Of course he is," Alec said softly, more to himself than to his dogman friend who was looking at him funny. "And Max is with Logan."

"Max is with Logan," Joshua repeated, standing in the doorway and regarding him with eyes both naive and wise. "Like it should be."

"Like it should be," Alec agreed, ignoring the hint of sadness the words brought to his heart. At least the way things were going, it looked like he was going to be of use to Max again pretty soon. They'd probably be able to pull the robbery tomorrow night, provided his migraine went away. Certainly two days in bed would be rest enough for his battered transgenic body.

"Like it should be, Alec," Joshua said once more, this time the words more emphasized and his eyes slightly narrowed, warning.

Alec clenched his jaw, but just nodded. "Pancakes sound good, Joshua," he said, swerving the conversation to safer ground. "I'm starving, which has to be a good sign. Right?"

The brief moment of tension between the two men had passed, and Joshua's grin was wide. "Pancakes coming up," the dogman said happily, disappearing from the doorway and heading toward the kitchen.

"Pancakes," Alec said softly, shaking his head before burying his face in the pillow, his thoughts on someone ... something other than food.

Damn, why do I have to be so messed up?

THE END