Bruises and Memories

Alec seriously considered going back to one of his old hideouts in the city. He had no desire to be around anyone at the moment. However, no matter how battle-trained Manticore may have once trained him, a night on the rugged and dank ground while he was already battered didn't sound appealing either. Shaking his head, he grabbed his hoodie and turned to go back to Joshua's. At least the night was cool; it felt good. Never mind that he could barely walk.

Alec grimaced when he could hear the music from outside the little hovel. Sure, he had more fight experience than Max, but he had also given her way too much leeway and had paid for it. He had only taken one step inside and closed the door when Joshua looked at him and turned the music down. "What happened?"

Alec laughed in spite of himself. "Fight. There were a lot."

"Okay?" Joshua asked.

"Mm," he answered. He really didn't feel like talking.

But, that was the wonderful thing about Joshua. Weird as he may be, the guy was observant and knew when to back off. Joshua just asked, "Music off?"

"Thanks," he answered. He started to head off, before he realized another possibility. Max probably didn't care about him, but where Joshua was concerned was another matter. "And if Max shows up, I'm not here."

"Little fella not happy with Alec?"

Alec sort of smiled, but just held up a hand, dropping the subject.

Alec went to the cabinet first, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He took a generous sip before he went to washroom, wetting a towel that he dabbed over his L eye. It was bruised, but it would heal by evening tomorrow, at the latest. He tossed off the hoodie, examining his ribs. There was just a hint of a shadow there, but that didn't stop them from hurting like hell. Same with his right leg and walking here on it certainly hadn't helped. Now that he wasn't moving, it was difficult to put weight on it. He knew nothing was seriously injured, just jacked up and bruised. But, still. Anyway, it was Max's final low blow of a shot that was currently his biggest problem…and the one that he could do the least about having nothing cold around. Leave it to her.

He was seriously wondering what had compelled him to try and be nice at the beginning of the round. Sure, she knew how to fight. She might have blocked a few hits; but, he was way more experienced. And he had just as many reasons and more to be ticked at her than she him, even if she hadn't been there for them. If he had just been serious from the start, he could have ended it quick and clean. But, no, somewhere, somehow, a gentleman had surfaced. He would have to settle for the petty knowledge that the few hits he had landed when he'd decided to stop playing with her would have Max stinging through the night as well.

In lack of having anything cold around, Alec settled for soaking the washcloth and bringing it with him to the sofa where he laid the rag over his lower ribs. He had closed his eyes for only a moment, when a felt something big and slimy fall over his face. He wearily reached to remove whatever it was and grimaced when he realized it was raw steak. Joshua was by the couch, informing him, "Help with pain."

Alec let his head fall back down, without the repugnant steak, well-meaning as he knew it was. "I'm good, thanks."

Joshua just nodded, coming back over with what looked like mac n'cheese with some sort of meat. He just said, "Thought you might be hungry," before leaving Alec alone again.

That's for trying to kill Joshua, Max's voice unwillingly came back to him. Almost involuntarily, he looked over at Joshua who was back at work on whatever finger-painting he was working on now. Alec knew that Joshua got frustrated at times for being essentially locked up; but, he also knew it was better than a possible alternative. Still, Alec shook his head. He had shot back some retort of an excuse to Max's accusation, but he knew it was weak. It was. Joshua was good guy. Weird, but good. Yes, ok, he'd been backed into a corner; but, there had been other options…and it wasn't the first time.

I should have tried harder. I should have fought them. It was his voice he remembered now from a few weeks ago…when he had said a long overdue farewell to….Rachel. He took a long swig of the whiskey he had set down by the table. He had tried to bury that twice now. Each time, apparently, as unsuccessful as the other. He would never forget that, he knew. He would never forgive himself for that. There had been other options. He took another drink.

Max had shot so many accusations at him during their fight, most of them petty, like her stupid baseball. He was pretty sure that hadn't been all bad, though. I mean, how many times did they get to do that? Well…okay, multiple times and him more, but he stopped there, refusing to let anymore unwanted memories surface. But, some accusations had been more legitimate. It was true the virus wasn't directly his fault, but he had kind of led her to the guy. Not that she wouldn't have made her way back to him eventually. At least Alec had been there and decided to be kind enough to inform them of the problem…after the fact. After the fact and too little too late. That seemed to be a trend with him he was noting.

Well, great, now it wasn't the fight that was bothering him. He wasn't sure which he'd rather have his mind on: bruises or memories. Probably bruises he thought. He remembered the girl from PsyOps at the fight, whom he had met first at Manticore. But, that hadn't been the first time he had met her. No, she had been there after the Berrisford Assignment. Probably one of the few times she hadn't been successful. He briefly wondered what happened to Manticore's own Reindoctrination team when they failed. He didn't care. Bruises, he decided, were definitely preferable over memories as Rachel playing the piano came back to his mind and then the night she had coerced him into the pool. That was the night he began to realize…at that Alec intentionally slammed the inside of his own leg where Max had kicked him, instantly bringing his focus back to his bruises. His leg would not thank him for that tomorrow, but he didn't care. He knew he should find a way to completely settle that whole other matter, he just couldn't. And now was not the time. He finished his whiskey. It would be a long night. But, he promised himself, it would be just one night. One night to take some time for himself. Come morning, he wouldn't show any notion of having had any problems. Thanks, Max.