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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Alec Closeup
Failing Alec
By Valjean

This is a true standalone story that occurs sometime after "Freak Nation." -- author's note

*************************************
Alec"You're joking, right?" Alec studied Max's bleak expression, the worry lines on her forehead, the pinched look of her exhausted eyes. "You're not joking."

"Alec, I swear it would only be for a couple of days. Clemente promises you'll be safe. He half-way believed me when I told him it was your twin brother who killed Timothy Ryan and not you. He knows anything's possible where Manticore's concerned. But they got an I.D. when you got your ass caught this time, and matched it from when you were arrested a few months ago. It's your fingerprints on file ... your DNA ... and Ryan's wife is an eye witness. They've got a strong case. I can't really blame the detective for demanding we turn you over."

"So, for the good of Freak Nation I'm supposed to take the fall for a crime I didn't commit?" Standing in the doorway of Logan's apartment, dressed in black jeans, t-shirt, and leather jacket, Alec had been on his way out to forage for supplies (and get a breath of fresh "free" air) when Max had hit him with this latest deal she was working with her pet police detective.

"Clemente won't negotiate any more with us until we turn you over," she said, eying him warily.

"Ben was the insane one, Max. Not me. Forget it."

Alec couldn't believe she was asking this of him. He looked over at Logan, wondering if there was any help there. The older man was seated, as usual, in front of his bank of computers and Eyes Only broadcast equipment, his swivel chair at the moment turned in the direction of his visitors. Dressed in a warm blue wool sweater, jeans, and sensible shoes, and with those glasses perched on his nose, Max's boyfriend's looked positively scholarly, a university professor perhaps -- not at all like the criminal computer hacker and mutant sympathizer he really was.

Logan held up his hands and shook his head. "Hey," he said dryly, "she only just told me that you and Ben were identical twins. I'm still trying to swallow that bit of pertinent, not to mention mildly disturbing, news." He stared balefully at Max over the rims of his glasses.

Alec didn't have to be a mind reader to know what Logan was thinking. More secrets. More lies. What else is Max keeping from me?

Well, Alec knew one really big secret he and Max both were most definitely keeping from Logan, one that involved a little heat-related incident in his Terminal City quarters awhile back. Maybe Max and Logan had "never been like that," but now he and Max certainly had -- which, unfortunately, greatly increased the odds he was going to do something incredibly stupid just because she was asking him to. Hell, one night of fantastic sex and she's got me almost as whipped as Logan.

"Logan's heard from Lydecker," Max offered, her voice growing more desperate. "He's coming here. Lydecker can clear you for good, Alec. He'll tell them about Ben, about the twin program. He'll vouch you were at Manticore when Timothy Ryan was murdered. He's got Renfro's data base -- all of our medical records, dates, times, places, missions ..."

Max had to see in his eyes how she was hurting him, asking him to do this, taking advantage of their newly re-defined relationship. But she was still asking.

"In the meantime we could show Clemente those fake records I had made up for you." she offered, her voice growing more desperate as she realized he wasn't buying any of it. "The birth certificate and passport proving you had a twin and that you were out of the country at the time of the murders."

Alec shook his head and propped the door frame up with his shoulder, settling in to argue. "One, I don't have that stuff any more," he counted off on the index finger of his right hand. "Those papers were in my apartment and after that mess at Jam Pony the place got tossed by the police and God knows who else. And two," he held up another finger, "even if by some miracle they were still there and I showed 'em to the police, if Lydecker comes forward with a different story it'll just make me out to be a liar and confuse the situation even more." He punctuated that last bit with raised eyebrows, daring Max to deny it.

"He's right," Logan said. "If we're going to do this, Alec ought to just turn himself in, then stay put and keep quiet until we come with Lydecker to get him out."

"Alec's not going to do this guys," Alec said. "So quit--"

"There's another problem," Max said, ignoring Alec completely. "White."

"Gee Max," Alec muttered. "Took you long enough to get there."

"White." Logan spoke the single word as if it was something nasty, which for them it was.

"White." Alec repeated the name a third time. "Who has to want me dead more'n just about any other living thing in the universe, present company excepted." He threw his hands up in the air. "There you have it, Max. End of story. Come up with another plan 'cause this one ain't gonna fly."

"Clemente absolutely promises me you'll be safe, Alec," Max pleaded, although the the fact she couldn't meet his eyes told Alec she knew damn well how absurd that sounded. White had gotten to him before when he was in police so-called protective custody, and the man would certainly get wind of his arrest and make a run at him again.

"Max," Logan said, arguing on the side of reason now. "You've got to take into consideration that Alec would be trapped in a cell. If White came after him--"

"Hey!" Alec raised his voice. "Listen up people! This isn't the plan!"

"Clemente promises me he'll be safe," Max said adamantly for what seemed like the tenth time. "He promises ..."

"He promised before," Logan pointed out.

"Standing right here, folks! I can hear you. Stop--"

"Well, the police now know better what they're up against," Max snapped. "They'll be a lot more careful, have more firepower."

Alec looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. Damn it, he was tired of being ignored. He rolled his eyes and spat, "Yeah, and those sector cops will be just so willing to lay down their lives protectin' a Trannie."

"Alec, please!"

"Max," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I'm not stupid. I'm not expendable -- at least not from where I'm lookin' at things. And I'm not goin'. So cut it out. Quit askin'."

Max walked up to him, took hold of his hands, and finally did look him straight in the eye. "Alec, I know what I'm asking is a lot. I know I'm asking you to risk your life. But if negotiations break down now we could end up with the military on top of us tomorrow morning."

Alec's brows drew together. "It's that serious?"

"Yes," Max said, still holding his eyes (and his hands). Then, her voice falling so only he could hear, "You know I won't let anything happen to you. You know what you mean to me, in spite of how I'm always kickin' your ass. I need you, Alec. I need you in my life. But right now, I need you to do this for me, to buy us time. Please."

Alec took a deep breath, the only hesitation he allowed himself. "Okay," he said softly, the uncharacteristic pleading in tough chick Max's eyes and voice making his emotions (and apparently his sanity as well) do a back flip. "I'll trust you. I'll do it -- this time." But as he exhaled he couldn't help wondering where along the rocky road of his life he'd become such a fool for this damn girl.

*****


Sector Police Headquarters #29 -- an isolation cell on the fourth, and top, floor of the building. Alec sat cross-legged on the bunk, his back against the cold stone wall, twiddling his thumbs and trying not to chew his fingernails any closer to the quick than they'd already been nervously gnawed.

"Two days," Max had whispered in his ear as she'd hugged him with unexpected fierceness just before handing him over to Clemente and his squadron of men at Terminal City's main entrance the night before.

Two days, he thought grimly. The longest friggin' two days of my life.

After which time, Lydecker would hopefully show up and produce Manticore records about Ben. Negotiations between the mutants and ordinaries could then continue unencumbered, the military would back off for good, Mrs. Ryan would be able to rest easy knowing her husband's killer was already dead, charges would be dropped, and all would be right once again in the insane world of X5-494.

At least they'd let him keep his clothes, Alec thought, glancing down at his t-shirt and jeans. But if he was in here any longer than 48 hours, they'd be tossing one of those ugly neon orange jumpsuits at him. Right now he was still in the pre-arraignment phase of his incarceration. He hadn't seen a judge yet, or a lawyer either for that matter. Shouldn't there be a lawyer?

He thought about asking one of the guards who were so dutifully patrolling the corridor outside his cell. But from the fearful sideways looks they kept shooting in his direction Alec decided he'd better not draw attention to himself. Bad enough they'd left the handcuffs on, and the leg irons. Then again, last time he'd been in police custody he'd staged a rather spectacular aerial escape, so of course they were being more careful with the X5 super soldier this time around.

But damn it, he was getting hungry -- no dinner, no breakfast, not even a snack. "Hey," he called out to the guard. "How 'bout a little room service? I'm starvin'. Don't you feed the prisoners in this joint?"

"Shut the fuck up!" the guard snarled.

Which is when Alec's keen hearing suddenly picked up the sound of distant gunfire.

*****


"What's wrong?" Max shouted, running into the Terminal City command center, her attention focused on the TV screen.

"Police station's under attack," Luke said, pointing to the newscast. "Lots of black ops types with heavy firepower. They're blasting everything that moves."

"Oh, God," Max said, her heart racing as she read the big "29" on the front of the station house. "It's White. Somehow he knows Alec's in there." She turned around to look at Logan who was also staring with shock at the television broadcast. He'd come down to the command center to help with some wiring problems they were having. "We've got to get him out of there!" she cried. "This time White's not going to fool around! He's going to kill Alec the second he lays eyes on him!"

Mole picked up a shotgun. "I'll round up our people," he said, spitting the words out around the perpetual cigar stub in his mouth. "We'll get him, Max. We'll get Alec out."

*****


White's Phalanx warriors massacred everyone in their path, over 50 policemen and women. Alec heard them coming like a march of death, ascending floor-by-floor, the staccato sound of gun shots escalating, getting louder, along with the screams.

Cold sweat ran in rivulets down Alec's back as he listened to White's men approaching, his heart rate increasing, adrenalin flooding his soldier's body, his genetics preparing him for battle. "Let me out!" he hollered at the terrified guards scrambling in the corridor outside his cell. Wrapping shackled hands around the bars, Alec quite literally begged, screaming hoarsely, "For God's sake give me a fighting chance! Please!" He held out the manacles, his hazel-green eyes shining with desperation, hoping against hope the humans would show him some mercy. He was nothing more than an animal caught in a trap and waiting to be slaughtered like this. But his captors ignored their desperate prisoner, instead cowering against the far end of the hallway, preparing to take a stand against the army that had invaded their station. And when White's Purebreds burst through the final door moments later, Alec could do nothing but hurl himself against the back wall of the cell, shield his face with his arms, and watch in helpless horror as his guards were mercilessly cut down in a deafening hail of ricocheting bullets.

The silence that followed the slaughter was the most terrifying "sound" Alec had ever heard. Like a wraith from Hell in a business suit, Ames White emerged from the cloud of white gun smoke to stand outside Alec's cell, the look in his evil eyes one of utter triumph. I've got you now.

An adroit smile on his thin lips, White reached down and deftly lifted the cell key from a dead guard's belt, inserted it in the lock, released the catch, and opened the creaking door. Flanked by six of his muscle men, the Familiar leader's smile then broadened. This time he wasn't taking any chances. This time there wasn't going to be any escape for X5-494.

Alec backed into a corner and crouched in a fighting stance, limited though the moves would be with the chains. If he was going to go down, it would be like the Manticore soldier he was.

"We meet again, 494," White said as he stepped into the cell, his eyes shining with malicious happiness. "For the last time I might add."

Alec's eyes were drawn to what White was holding -- a large knife, a ceremonial dagger of some kind, it's hilt carved at the base with an all too familiar symbol -- two entwined snakes.

"Hold him down," White commanded his men harshly.

Clenching his teeth, Alec charged, leaping high like a cat, intending to take out White if he could. But six pairs of inhumanly strong hands grabbed him in mid air and threw him bodily down onto the bed.

He fought like a mad thing.

"Hold him still!" White screamed, and the pressure on Alec's arms and legs increased ten fold even as he continued to struggle.

White held the knife up.

Alec grew still, his eyes mesmerized by the brilliant blade. He swallowed once, his heartbeat slowing. This was the end. Oddly, he was no longer frightened. There are guys out there right now looking to kill me, and I'm sure someday they'll probably succeed.

Someday had arrived.

"Any last words, 494?" Ames sneered. "Tell me. Is your breeding partner really worth it? Is 452 that good a fuck? Or could it be you really do love the bitch? Tell me, 494. Explain to me why you're going to die for that little whore."

Alec spit in his face.

And the knife plunged down.

*****

They were too late. Dead policemen lay everywhere, and White and his men were gone. The silence of the station house made Max shiver, even moreso than the stench of death that permeated the building like an invisible shroud.

She found him on the fourth floor in an isolation cell, still in chains, lying sprawled on a bunk with a Familiar dagger buried in his stomach and his throat slit from ear-to-ear. Alec had died in agony, tortured by that blade tearing into his guts for who knows how long before White had finally extinguished his life with one final brutal stroke. 494's big heart had pumped for awhile afterwards, bleeding him out, staining the floor around the bunk crimson. The metallic odor of Alec's coagulating blood would haunt Max until her dying day.

It was over. Alec was over. She'd failed him in every way she could have failed.

And now there was absolutely nothing Max could do except fall to her knees, take his cold mutilated body in her arms, and hug Alec one last time as she sobbed, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

*****


Max woke with a start, trembling and covered with sweat even though her unheated TC quarters were frigid.

Alec. Where was Alec? She'd been dreaming horrible things. And then she remembered -- Clemente's demands that he'd issued yesterday. He wanted her to surrender Alec to him for trial, wanted the supposed murderer of Timothy Ryan who'd slipped out of their custody.

She'd seriously been considering the idea. Alec would have hated it -- but in the end Max was certain he'd have done it ... for her. He'd have put his own life in danger that way if she asked him to. And Lydecker was supposed to show up within a few days with information that would have cleared X5-494.

But that wasn't going to happen now. None of it. Alec wasn't going to die. That hadn't been just a dream. It had been a premonition.

*****


"Are you going to turn him over to Clemente?" Logan asked Max half an hour later when she opened the hidden door that led into his apartment.

"Turn who over?" Alec asked, coming through behind Max and dusting his hands off on his black jeans.

Logan's blue eyes were full of questions.

Max turned around and looked at Alec, and found herself a bit shaken to realize he was dressed exactly the way he'd been dressed in her dream. Her eyes came to rest on the taut smooth muscles of his stomach, visible beneath the thin material of his dark t-shirt -- the same shirt that she was certain would have been saturated with blood in a few hours if she hadn't received her supernatural warning.

"What?" Alec complained, golden-green eyes wide and innocent, his hands spread out in supplication. "Max, what are you starin' at? I know you find my body hot but--"

"Clemente wants to arrest you for the murder of Timothy Ryan," she said.

That shut him up -- almost. "Again!" Alec yelped.

"Again."

He eyed her warily, waiting for the next shoe to drop.

"But don't worry," she said gently, touching the sleeve of his leather jacket. "I'm going to tell him no. You'd be in way too much danger at the police station from White, not to mention the chance that Lydecker wouldn't be able to clear you." She glanced over at Logan who was just sitting there listening. "You didn't murder that man, Alec. You're innocent. Clemente's just going to have to take my word on that, and accept the fact he's not getting his hands on one of my best people."

"Best people?" Alec's eyebrows rose.

"Shut up, pretty boy," Max replied automatically, "and just accept the compliment." But there was no reproach in the words, and in fact they carried an uncharacteristic hint of affection.

"Max, if you need me to sit in a jail cell for a couple of days to smooth your negotiations I don't mind," Alec said. "Well, I mind. But I'll do it. I know how important it is for you and Clemente to get along right now, and I did sort of muck things up before." He made a wry face at that last admission.

Max hated it when Alec did things like this, when he acted ... nice, understanding, unselfish ... She looked over at Logan, reminding herself that she was already in love with one of the best men on Earth, that there was no room in her heart for another -- the same way she'd had to remind herself after that night ....

I'm not in love with Alec.

"Max?" Alec was looking at her oddly, probably wondering why she kept staring at him. "Max, do you at least want me to talk to Clemente? Give him my side of the story?"

"No," Max said carefully. "You just stay here in TC for the next forty-eight hours. Lay low."

"Why?"

"Because I said so," Max snapped. "Consider it an order, soldier. One that's for your own good."

Alec was still regarding her with his head cocked to one side. "What aren't you tellin' me?"

I had a dream about you last night. White gutted you with a ceremonial snake knife and slit your throat.

"Nothing," Max said tiredly. "It's just that -- I can't lose you."

"I'm not goin' anywhere." Alec glanced at Logan, growing more puzzled by the minute. "Am I? Max, you're scarin' me."

She wanted to hug him, but of course couldn't, not in front of Logan

And I can't kiss you either ... like I kissed you that night ... never again.

"Alec," Max said, her voice carrying the weight of the world, or at least of a nation. "Just ... stay close." Stay close to me.

"All right," Alec said, throwing his hands up in the air, not understanding at all. "I'll be down in the armory. Call me if you need me."

"I will," Max said softly to his back as he walked away. I will need you.

THE END

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