A/N: Thanks to my betas, and to the readers of this story, who have stuck
with it during the recent long intervals between chapters. Being involved
in writing a Virtual Season Three has been taking a lot of time. Check out
the results at: http://darkangelvirtuality.com/ and other late, lamented
shows at: http://www.pvtonline.com/
I live for reviews, so you know what to do.
Chapter Eleven
Asha continued to hold Logan. At last, she broke away and looked at him with concern.
"Logan, shall I leave? Do you want to be alone?"
"No, don't leave. Stay the night. I want you to."
Asha smiled. "Time to turn in?"
"Yeah, may as well. I don't want another day like this one."
Logan slid off the couch and into the chair. Asha got up from the couch, turned out the lights, and locked the front door. Logan headed to the bedroom, and she followed him. While Logan performed his nightly ritual in the bathroom, Asha stripped and got into bed. When he came back into the bedroom, she pulled back the covers to facilitate his transfer to the bed.
Once he was lying down, Logan stared up at the ceiling. "I can't believe how tired I am."
"I guess getting shot at will do that to you." Asha snuggled up close and put her arms around him. "Relax, Logan. Everything will be all right. You need to get some sleep."
"Yeah, I do," Logan agreed sleepily. He took off his glasses and turned out the light.
*****
There was no lovemaking that night. Logan was asleep almost immediately, with Asha holding him. She didn't sleep well, twisted into an uncomfortable position, but she didn't want to wake or disturb Logan, so she risked cramped muscles. So she lay there, cradling Logan in her arms, hoping that he could find peace in his life and that she could be a part of it.
*****
When Asha awoke the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. Groggily, she got up and wandered into the living room. She heard the tapping of keys, and followed the sound into the computer room. Logan was back in obsessive mode, rapidly typing, not even looking up to acknowledge her presence.
"Morning," she said.
Logan grunted in reply.
"I see you're back at it. Is there any coffee?"
Logan nodded, but still did not speak.
"Is there a problem?"
"-Ah, no, no problem. Just want to get this done. Should put the final nail in Manticore's coffin."
"God, I hope so," Asha muttered. "Maybe then we could have an entire conversation for a change."
"Huh? What?" Logan asked.
"Nothing." Asha got a cup of coffee and flopped on the couch with the morning paper. She drank the coffee in silence, listening to the tap of the keys as Logan continued with his plan.
When she finished the paper and the coffee, she got a hot shower, changed her clothes, and went back to the computer room.
"Logan, I'm heading out. Do you need anything? I'll be back this evening."
"I'm fine, thanks. I'll see you later then," Logan said absentmindedly.
Asha kissed him on the cheek and left.
*****
When Asha returned to Logan's apartment later that day, the scene she happened on was almost surreal. Logan, nearly unconscious, his face bathed in sweat, a rash covering his body, was seated in his wheelchair, even though he wore the exoskeleton. A tall, blonde man was standing over him, with a gun aimed at his head. Asha drew her weapon and tiptoed toward the computer room, which looked like a battlefield. The screen panels were broken, as if they had been kicked out during a fight. Papers were scattered over the floor; the contents of the desk and table were disturbed. Asha quietly made her way to the doorway of the computer room, her gun at the ready.
Standing in the doorway, she aimed her gun at the blonde-haired stranger. "Don't move. Put it on the floor," she ordered.
The stranger laid his gun on the floor and smiled at her. Then, in a blur, he grabbed her gun and pointed it at her. "Fine, have it your way. I was just gonna put him out of his misery." He examined her weapon. "Nice piece," he said, and was gone.
Asha quickly approached Logan, who was struggling to remain conscious.
"My God, Logan, what's going on here?" she asked as she knelt beside him.
" - Max - came back," Logan whispered.
"She's alive?" Asha's eyes were wide in astonishment.
" - Yes - Infected me - retrovirus - "
"What can I do? Where is Max? Who was that man?" Asha tried to assess the situation, but there was not enough information yet.
"Max - went for antigen - back to Manticore." Logan slipped into unconsciousness, then jerked himself back. "Manticore assassin - you stopped him."
"Well, good thing. Now, what can I do? Shall I call an ambulance? Get you to the hospital?"
"Won't do any good - Manticore virus - need to lie down."
"OK." Asha knew she couldn't get Logan into bed by herself, but she could probably manage to move him to the couch. Gently, she pushed Logan's wheelchair into the living room; the fact that it had no handles made the task more difficult. At last, she got it moved next to the couch.
"Logan, do you think you can stand up for a minute? Just to help me get you settled?"
Logan struggled to his feet, supported by Asha, and took a couple of wobbly steps. Exhausted from the effort, he sat down.
"That's good. Now, you need to lie down. Do you want to take off the exoskeleton? It might be better."
Logan nodded weakly and lay down on the couch.
"OK. Good thing this isn't the first time I've taken off your pants," Asha joked, trying to keep Logan conscious.
"Yeah," came the whispered reply.
Asha undid Logan's pants and quickly stripped them off. The exoskeleton was more difficult; she fumbled with the unfamiliar fastenings. Lifting Logan, even briefly, to remove it, left her sweating. But at last, if was off. She slid Logan's pants back on.
Asha put a cushion under Logan's head to make him more comfortable. She felt his forehead; it was burning with fever. His pulse was racing. So she ran to the kitchen and got a towel, filled it with ice, and folded it up. Asha placed the improvised ice pack on Logan's forehead, hoping to bring the fever down. Then, having done all she could, she pulled a chair up next to the couch and sat there, holding Logan's hand.
*****
Asha didn't know how long she sat there, just holding on to Logan, trying to prevent him from slipping away. He had lost consciousness shortly after lying down, but she continued to talk to him, hoping he could hear her. Tears streaked her face as she contemplated life without him. When he started shivering, she covered him with a blanket. There was nothing more she could do.
She heard a noise at the door and looked around, momentarily wondering if she needed a weapon - the blonde-haired stranger had dropped his before he had taken hers. But the apparition staring at her from the doorway of the computer room convinced her that it wasn't necessary.
A girl stood there, startled at seeing her; a girl of average height, but skinny with sharply etched cheekbones, long, straight, lank hair, and huge dark eyes. She was dressed in a grey tee shirt and fatigue pants, like a soldier. Her face was dirty, and although blood stained her pants, she didn't seem to be bleeding.
Asha blinked first. "You must be Max," she said.
"Who are you?" Max said in an accusing tone of vice. "How is Logan?"
"I'm Asha, a - friend of Logan's. He's in bad shape. Burning with fever, but shivering too. Unconscious. I did what I could."
Asha let go of Logan's hand and stood up. She moved aside to let Max in, but Max stayed back, wavering with uncertainty. She held out a vial and a syringe.
"Here, you do it. I - I can't touch him. That's how he got that way in the first place."
Asha took the antigen and syringe. "OK. How much do I give him?"
"I - I don't know. All of it?"
Asha filled the syringe and injected Logan while Max looked on. Nothing happened. Max began to pace in front of the window, waiting for the antidote to take effect. "How long?" she said he herself several times.
Asha joined her in pacing, watching Logan all the while. She looked at her watch. After about an hour, Logan's fever broke, and he stopped shivering. Shortly after that, he fell into a peaceful sleep, breathing regularly and strongly. Both women continued to pace.
Several hours later, Logan awoke. Asha made him some broth and fed it to him. He ate it reluctantly. But it seemed to help, because he tried to sit up after he ate it. Asha helped him to right himself on the couch. He sat there, still groggy, but gradually becoming more alert. He looked at Max with a questioning expression on his face, but she avoided his gaze.
Max continued to keep her distance from him, her head down. As she watched and waited, standing in front of his window, Logan gradually grew stronger and more alert. He continued to gaze at Max questioningly.
It was obvious to Asha that he would recover from his ordeal. She gave him a last, quick check -pulse, temperature, the now-faded rash. Logan was subdued, as was Max.
Asha walked over to Max, standing at the window, and said to her quietly, "He's going to be all right. Welcome back." Then she gathered up her backpack and jacket and left. Neither Max nor Logan said goodbye to her; neither Max nor Logan thanked her.
Outside of Logan's door, she leaned against the wall and let the tears flow. Max was back; Logan had cheated death at her hands and those of the young blonde-haired man, and Asha, who had been the one to intervene twice to save his life, realized that she was the one who would be sleepless from now on.
The tears drying on her face, she rang for the elevator.
THE END
I live for reviews, so you know what to do.
Chapter Eleven
Asha continued to hold Logan. At last, she broke away and looked at him with concern.
"Logan, shall I leave? Do you want to be alone?"
"No, don't leave. Stay the night. I want you to."
Asha smiled. "Time to turn in?"
"Yeah, may as well. I don't want another day like this one."
Logan slid off the couch and into the chair. Asha got up from the couch, turned out the lights, and locked the front door. Logan headed to the bedroom, and she followed him. While Logan performed his nightly ritual in the bathroom, Asha stripped and got into bed. When he came back into the bedroom, she pulled back the covers to facilitate his transfer to the bed.
Once he was lying down, Logan stared up at the ceiling. "I can't believe how tired I am."
"I guess getting shot at will do that to you." Asha snuggled up close and put her arms around him. "Relax, Logan. Everything will be all right. You need to get some sleep."
"Yeah, I do," Logan agreed sleepily. He took off his glasses and turned out the light.
*****
There was no lovemaking that night. Logan was asleep almost immediately, with Asha holding him. She didn't sleep well, twisted into an uncomfortable position, but she didn't want to wake or disturb Logan, so she risked cramped muscles. So she lay there, cradling Logan in her arms, hoping that he could find peace in his life and that she could be a part of it.
*****
When Asha awoke the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. Groggily, she got up and wandered into the living room. She heard the tapping of keys, and followed the sound into the computer room. Logan was back in obsessive mode, rapidly typing, not even looking up to acknowledge her presence.
"Morning," she said.
Logan grunted in reply.
"I see you're back at it. Is there any coffee?"
Logan nodded, but still did not speak.
"Is there a problem?"
"-Ah, no, no problem. Just want to get this done. Should put the final nail in Manticore's coffin."
"God, I hope so," Asha muttered. "Maybe then we could have an entire conversation for a change."
"Huh? What?" Logan asked.
"Nothing." Asha got a cup of coffee and flopped on the couch with the morning paper. She drank the coffee in silence, listening to the tap of the keys as Logan continued with his plan.
When she finished the paper and the coffee, she got a hot shower, changed her clothes, and went back to the computer room.
"Logan, I'm heading out. Do you need anything? I'll be back this evening."
"I'm fine, thanks. I'll see you later then," Logan said absentmindedly.
Asha kissed him on the cheek and left.
*****
When Asha returned to Logan's apartment later that day, the scene she happened on was almost surreal. Logan, nearly unconscious, his face bathed in sweat, a rash covering his body, was seated in his wheelchair, even though he wore the exoskeleton. A tall, blonde man was standing over him, with a gun aimed at his head. Asha drew her weapon and tiptoed toward the computer room, which looked like a battlefield. The screen panels were broken, as if they had been kicked out during a fight. Papers were scattered over the floor; the contents of the desk and table were disturbed. Asha quietly made her way to the doorway of the computer room, her gun at the ready.
Standing in the doorway, she aimed her gun at the blonde-haired stranger. "Don't move. Put it on the floor," she ordered.
The stranger laid his gun on the floor and smiled at her. Then, in a blur, he grabbed her gun and pointed it at her. "Fine, have it your way. I was just gonna put him out of his misery." He examined her weapon. "Nice piece," he said, and was gone.
Asha quickly approached Logan, who was struggling to remain conscious.
"My God, Logan, what's going on here?" she asked as she knelt beside him.
" - Max - came back," Logan whispered.
"She's alive?" Asha's eyes were wide in astonishment.
" - Yes - Infected me - retrovirus - "
"What can I do? Where is Max? Who was that man?" Asha tried to assess the situation, but there was not enough information yet.
"Max - went for antigen - back to Manticore." Logan slipped into unconsciousness, then jerked himself back. "Manticore assassin - you stopped him."
"Well, good thing. Now, what can I do? Shall I call an ambulance? Get you to the hospital?"
"Won't do any good - Manticore virus - need to lie down."
"OK." Asha knew she couldn't get Logan into bed by herself, but she could probably manage to move him to the couch. Gently, she pushed Logan's wheelchair into the living room; the fact that it had no handles made the task more difficult. At last, she got it moved next to the couch.
"Logan, do you think you can stand up for a minute? Just to help me get you settled?"
Logan struggled to his feet, supported by Asha, and took a couple of wobbly steps. Exhausted from the effort, he sat down.
"That's good. Now, you need to lie down. Do you want to take off the exoskeleton? It might be better."
Logan nodded weakly and lay down on the couch.
"OK. Good thing this isn't the first time I've taken off your pants," Asha joked, trying to keep Logan conscious.
"Yeah," came the whispered reply.
Asha undid Logan's pants and quickly stripped them off. The exoskeleton was more difficult; she fumbled with the unfamiliar fastenings. Lifting Logan, even briefly, to remove it, left her sweating. But at last, if was off. She slid Logan's pants back on.
Asha put a cushion under Logan's head to make him more comfortable. She felt his forehead; it was burning with fever. His pulse was racing. So she ran to the kitchen and got a towel, filled it with ice, and folded it up. Asha placed the improvised ice pack on Logan's forehead, hoping to bring the fever down. Then, having done all she could, she pulled a chair up next to the couch and sat there, holding Logan's hand.
*****
Asha didn't know how long she sat there, just holding on to Logan, trying to prevent him from slipping away. He had lost consciousness shortly after lying down, but she continued to talk to him, hoping he could hear her. Tears streaked her face as she contemplated life without him. When he started shivering, she covered him with a blanket. There was nothing more she could do.
She heard a noise at the door and looked around, momentarily wondering if she needed a weapon - the blonde-haired stranger had dropped his before he had taken hers. But the apparition staring at her from the doorway of the computer room convinced her that it wasn't necessary.
A girl stood there, startled at seeing her; a girl of average height, but skinny with sharply etched cheekbones, long, straight, lank hair, and huge dark eyes. She was dressed in a grey tee shirt and fatigue pants, like a soldier. Her face was dirty, and although blood stained her pants, she didn't seem to be bleeding.
Asha blinked first. "You must be Max," she said.
"Who are you?" Max said in an accusing tone of vice. "How is Logan?"
"I'm Asha, a - friend of Logan's. He's in bad shape. Burning with fever, but shivering too. Unconscious. I did what I could."
Asha let go of Logan's hand and stood up. She moved aside to let Max in, but Max stayed back, wavering with uncertainty. She held out a vial and a syringe.
"Here, you do it. I - I can't touch him. That's how he got that way in the first place."
Asha took the antigen and syringe. "OK. How much do I give him?"
"I - I don't know. All of it?"
Asha filled the syringe and injected Logan while Max looked on. Nothing happened. Max began to pace in front of the window, waiting for the antidote to take effect. "How long?" she said he herself several times.
Asha joined her in pacing, watching Logan all the while. She looked at her watch. After about an hour, Logan's fever broke, and he stopped shivering. Shortly after that, he fell into a peaceful sleep, breathing regularly and strongly. Both women continued to pace.
Several hours later, Logan awoke. Asha made him some broth and fed it to him. He ate it reluctantly. But it seemed to help, because he tried to sit up after he ate it. Asha helped him to right himself on the couch. He sat there, still groggy, but gradually becoming more alert. He looked at Max with a questioning expression on his face, but she avoided his gaze.
Max continued to keep her distance from him, her head down. As she watched and waited, standing in front of his window, Logan gradually grew stronger and more alert. He continued to gaze at Max questioningly.
It was obvious to Asha that he would recover from his ordeal. She gave him a last, quick check -pulse, temperature, the now-faded rash. Logan was subdued, as was Max.
Asha walked over to Max, standing at the window, and said to her quietly, "He's going to be all right. Welcome back." Then she gathered up her backpack and jacket and left. Neither Max nor Logan said goodbye to her; neither Max nor Logan thanked her.
Outside of Logan's door, she leaned against the wall and let the tears flow. Max was back; Logan had cheated death at her hands and those of the young blonde-haired man, and Asha, who had been the one to intervene twice to save his life, realized that she was the one who would be sleepless from now on.
The tears drying on her face, she rang for the elevator.
THE END