Title: Defeated
Author: Ana N. <bkeleven11@yahoo.com>
Rating: PG13
Summary: Max deals with the ramifications of another's drastic actions.
Feedback: Don't hesitate to tell me if you think this is a piece of crap and that I shouldn't ever touch a keyboard again. Can you tell me why, though?
Note: I know the summary sounds weird, but there's a reason, maybe not a good reason, but there's a reason nonetheless. This is not the happiest fic, but things have an uncanny way of turning out sucky, sometimes.
Dedication: To Starlight aka Lindsey. Just because your stories inspire me :::cough::: all you fault :::cough::: A weird dedication, but hey, who wrote "Rubicon" for me? (Okay, maybe not for *me* but let me live in my fantasy world)
*****

She arrived too late.

Never even believing in the existence of a superior entity in the first place, she wished to God that he would come back. She would give anything to see that crooked smile of his and his bright eyes.

But he's gone. Irreversibly gone.

That bastard. He *promised*. He promised that he would always be there for her. Always there to watch her back, but all he did was succeed to prove to her what she already knew. Everyone disappoints, *everyone* inevitably leaves and betrays. Foolishly, she entertained the notion that he would be different. What a load of shit that all turned out to be.

He knew. He knew all along what was going to happen. The inevitable outcome, and that bastard didn't even bother to tell her about it.

*****

She stood in front of him; ready to meet whatever was planned for them head on. Her eyes were fiery and ready for action. His eyes deeply contrasted hers; they were calm and somber. He knew that whatever happened next would be a whirlwind of activity. Now was the time to savor the peaceful moment, to appreciate their very last moment of tranquility before everything around them exploded into a mess of chaotic insanity.

She couldn't accept things as they were though. She never had been able to just sit back and revel in moment. Neither had he before that day, but things have happened that changed his perspective.

Her voice was clouded with uncertainty and anxiousness. She wasn't ready for what laid ahead; she didn't think that she would ever be. "Almost time."

"Yeah." That one little word conveyed so much, his agreement, his acceptance of the things to come, his surety.

"Let's go then."

His hand shot out to catch her sleeve, halting her movement. "Max, if anything happens out there tonight--" His clear eyes were tortured, sad. But yet, they were calm, ready to face his fate.

She inhaled sharply, whenever he talked like that, she didn't know what to think or expect. "*Nothing* is going to go wrong." She denied every possibility of an untimely fate for either of them. It just wasn't fathomable, wasn't meant to occur.

"Pretend. If something were to happen--"

That was enough, she didn't know if she could take hearing another word uttered out of his mouth. Talk like that never brought any good. "Dammit, I don't want to listen to this stupid 'what if' scenario!" The night had already been torture and she couldn't even grasp the possibility that it might get worse.

"Max." One simple statement of her name made her want to scream out in frustration. He already accepted it. Whatever 'it' was.

The simply spoken word of her name made something inside her explode. How dare he utter her name as if everything was fine? It wasn't! She took a deep breath, she sounded crazy, even to herself. "Fuck you! I don't want to hear anymore of this crap from you. *We're* both going to get out of this, in one piece. Understand?" She wanted to believe it, she earnestly prayed for it to be true. Perhaps her outburst was more for her benefit than it was for his. Her lip quivered as she tried her hardest to keep the tears in check. It wasn't a good time to get emotional.

His eyes softened, he was unfazed by her flare-up; it was expected. He just didn't want her to hurt. Denying reality now and watching from above it all would surely cause the inevitable fall to be hard. "Please be realistic." His voice pleaded for her to understand. He wished with his entire being that she would.

The sensible tone in his voice caused the unsettling lump in her throat to amplify ten times. Turning her eyes heavenward, she prayed that she wouldn't have to face any more disasters. Her reply was in the form of soft raindrops, lightly pelting her face. The darkening sky had a menacing gloom about it. "Shit."

"Max, I want to listen to me carefully." The quietness of his voice spoke volumes. "Get out. Whatever happens, promise that you get yourself out. Promise me." His voice momentarily broke from its normal composure and came out fierce and determined. His jaw tightened, revealing to her the seriousness that he felt.

"Get out with *you*, right?" Her eyes stared back at him, sincerely wishing that he would answer positively, but knowing that he wouldn't.

"Max--" There it is again, that voice. She couldn't take the calmness that he had with the situation, with that conversation.

"Shut up! I get it...there's a possibility...of..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, so she just let it hang. He knew what she meant.

"Promise?"

Her eyes were suspiciously bright as she nodded slowly, she didn't trust herself to talk. She simply nodded.

"Whatever happens, know that...that I love you, very much." It was a simple declaration of affection. Unhindered by hidden agendas and ulterior motives. It was just what he truly felt. He paused to gently cup her cheek with his hand, lightly grazing her skin with his thumb. He wanted that picture of her implanted in his brain. "No regrets later. It's not your fault."

"What?" Her breath left her, her feet felt uneasy beneath her.

With one poignant smile, he pulled her towards him and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "Whatever happens, it's not your fault. Remember that."

With one pained cry, she roughly pulled him to her and crushed him in a tight embrace. He returned her hug with enthusiasm. After all, it could very well be the last time they saw each other.

*****

That jerk knew. He knew that it was going to happen. He *knew* that he wasn't going to make it out and he didn't even have the decency to tell her? Why? So he could 'protect' her? She didn't need it, she didn't need his protection, she needed him.

She closed her eyes, painfully relieving every single excruciating detail. She arrived there too late, but early enough to see the fuckin' bullet go through his head. She could literally *feel* his pain as smooth metal bit forced its way through his skull. It felt like her entire body exploded as his limply fell to the ground, dead.

The pain. It hurt so badly, an excruciatingly intense feeling of her heart shattering into a million pieces. The second his breath left him, part of her died along right with him. It hurt so much that she even considered following him, but she couldn't. She promised him that she would get out of there, and she couldn't break her promise, he meant too much to her.

But how could he do that? How could he willingly die? How could he just leave her like that?

His sacrifice wasn't what she wanted. She wanted him, with her, alive. The choice was taken away from her when he chose to give up himself. The control was snatched away and what replaced it was sheer helplessness.

She wasn't strong enough, wasn't fast enough. Because of her inadequacies, he was gone. It was all her fault. It was her fault that he was dead. Closing her eyes, she let her mind adjust to the thought. Her fault.

<<Whatever happens, it's not your fault. Remember that.>>

That bastard knew. Why else would he have said that? Expelling a shaking breath, she finally let a tear roll down her cheek, unashamed. She cried for him, for his sacrifice. For his forgiveness.

*****
END

Vague, I know, but I wanted to write a dramatic piece, unhindered by the distraction of a specific male lead. So that explains why 'he' is never named. Speculate all you want, I don't even know. I kind of pictured both of them (Zack and Logan) while I was writing.