Title: Ancient Eyes

Summary: Max comes to a realization about her relationship with Logan, and about herself, that changes everything.

Spoilers: This is set sometime after Freak Nation so there are no spoilers.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dark Angel, I am just borrowing the characters for a while. But, I can't promise I won't send Ben in Alec's place when the time comes for me to return them. ;)

A/N: I recently started going back through the episodes, and I noticed something about the actors who play transgenics. As I thought about it, I also started to think about why I believe Max belongs with Alec. This is the result. :)

For anyone reading this who is also following my Star Wars fic, "Falling From The Light," I promise an update as soon as humanly possible. It is just that my Star Wars inspiration left for the Bahamas it seems lol, and aside from sending me a post card, it refuses to do anything. Dark Angel, though, has started attacking me with rabid plot bunnies, and I thought this might be enough to hopefully get it off my back. ;)

A/N2: There is no Logan bashing in this fic, so please if you are a fan of Logan, don't hesitate to read. I admit that Logan isn't my favorite character, but I have never been able to bring myself to include Logan bashing in my own fics. I just don't think it truly portrays Logan in-character. :)

I hope you enjoy it!

Ancient Eyes

Eyes are the window to the soul. It is a saying most people have probably heard more times than they can count. It's funny though, how something like that can change your life.

You can tell a lot about a person by looking at their eyes. I don't mean just simple things, like knowing when a person is annoyed, or happy, or amused; those emotions can change in a heartbeat, and don't really tell you all that much.

What I mean is, that if you stare into a person's eyes long enough, you can start to see all the things that make them who they are: their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their strengths, their past. And, if you look at your own reflection long enough, you can sometimes start to see what others see in you.

That isn't something I do very often though, and not just because people would begin to wonder what mental defect I was suffering from if I stared at my reflection all the time. I don't look because I don't want to, because I already know what I'll see.

On the outside, I am beautiful, with dark hair, dark eyes, and pouty lips, or at least that is what I have been told, though I have never really paid much attention to the compliments and flattery my looks have gotten me. It's just my genetics, nothing more; just one of the many tools Manticore thought to include in its pet killing machines to give us an advantage.

When most people look at me, they only see a young, 20 year-old female, with gorgeous looks and an attitude. They probably think I'm like any ordinary girl my age, who hangs out with her friends and parties, whose biggest drama is how to dodge the boss when she comes in to work an hour - or three - late.

But, that isn't really me…or at least, not all of me. Sure, before the siege at Terminal City, I loved to hang out with the guys at Crash, talking over a pitcher, watching Sketchy get whipped at pool. And, yes, Normal was almost always on my case. But, beyond that, what anyone can see if they look at me hard enough is a soldier.

It isn't that I stand to attention when an authority figure enters the room, or that I salute before I leave…it isn't anything so obvious. It's a darkness, a shadow that always lurks in my gaze, even when I am happy, relaxing with my friends, drinking the night away. It's a hardness…a toughness that most people wouldn't expect to see in someone so young. But then, I am only young on the outside. Inside, I feel much, much older.

Usually, trying to keep me and mine safe from all the people who want us dead keeps me too busy to really think about that feeling. Avoiding homicidal maniacs can be a great distraction. But in quiet moments, when I am not worrying about who's trying to kill me, that's when I have time to think. Like I did tonight.

I was at Logan's for dinner. The dinner was his idea. We haven't been very close lately. I guess it kinda comes with the territory when dealing with a genetically engineered retro- virus that can kill with a single touch. But there are other reasons too. Things have changed a lot since we first met. I have my family with me now. Not the brothers and sisters that I escaped with, but the other transgenics who are my family just the same.

I spend all of my time at TC headquarters, or going on missions, or trying to negotiate for transgenic rights, doing what I can to lead the people I let out into the world.

Logan has been busy rebuilding Eyes Only. He got his cable hacking equipment up and running a few weeks ago, and the informant net is once again in full-swing. He has been doing everything he can to help the transgenic cause of course, tipping us about any government activity, and deciphering the latest runes that have appeared on me. But aside from the updates he had called to tell me about, we hadn't really talked in a while.

I guess he realized that too, so he suggested we try to spend some time together. I was a little uneasy with the idea. He knows that Alec and I weren't really together since I told him the truth after the siege at Jam Pony, but the virus is still there, and so is the danger that we will accidentally touch. I have been responsible for hurting too many of the people I care about, and I don't want to add Logan to the list.

Eventually though, after many promises to be careful and keep his distance, he managed to convince me that one pasta dinner wouldn't hurt. So I went.

It was nice, a lot like things used to be before they changed so much. Logan filled me in on everything he has been doing with Eyes Only, about the new informants he has found, the cable hack he plans to do next week, and the latest corrupt politician he is hoping to expose. He seemed so happy to be able to help people again, like he could before White tried to take him down. And I was happy for him. I know how much Eyes Only means to him. But as I sat across the table from him, looking into his eyes while he talked, I mean really looking, I realized something: I realized how old I felt compared to Logan.

I know that sounds strange, since chronologically, Logan is more than a few years older than I am. That age difference has never bothered me; after all, what should age matter when you love someone?

But watching him then, I could see an innocence that I know isn't in me. He looks at everything with so much enthusiasm. He has so much faith that if given the chance, people will want to do the right thing. He lives for making a difference, changing the world one person at a time.

Logan is the eternal optimist. Me…I suppose I am a realist for the most part; my soldier's upbringing won't allow me to be anything else. And as much as I respect Logan, and as much as he as been through himself, I know that his optimism can make him naïve of the darker side of human nature. But I'm not naïve. Manticore made sure of that. I know just how dark people can get.

I know, because I watched my brother be dragged away to be dissected while Lydecker looked on, casually drinking coffee.

I know because I lived with the fear that I'd be the next one to be cut up by the very people who created me. I know, because I have felt what it's like to be strapped to a table while a doctor intentionally broke my leg, just to see how long it would take to heal. I know what it is like to be afraid everyday.

I know, because I experienced what it is like to hunt a man down, to kill with my bare hands, because it was what I was ordered to do…made to do. I know, because I live with the knowledge that part of me can kill without remorse, and can enjoy killing, and that it's a part which exists within me every minute of every day.

As I looked at Logan then, I realized for the first time that as much as he may love me, as much as he may try, he can't understand. He'll neverbe able to understand.

His eyes are still young. My eyes…my eyes are ancient.

I left Logan's a few hours later, feeling a strange mix of peace and sadness all at once. I knew I needed to clear my head, and so I decided to take advantage of the few hours I had left before I needed to return to TC. I went to the Space Needle.

It was funny, but somehow, I knew Alec would be there. I found him sitting in the same spot we had sat that night, after I'd told him about Ben. He smiled when he saw me.

"Hey, Max," he greeted.

"Trying to steal my spot?" I asked.

"Didn't know you owned it," he returned easily.

"Come up here again, and I might start chargin' you for the privilege."

He shook his head and smirked at me, and an easy silence fell between us. We didn't say anything else for a while, both of us just looking down over the city, lost in our own thoughts.

Eventually, though, when my gaze drifted to the man next to me, I realized something else: I had never really let myself look at Alec. I guess a big part of that was because I was afraid I would see the ghost of the brother whose life I had taken. But Ben's ghost was put to rest the night I talked about his death. So, I swallowed my fears and just looked at Alec, really looked at him.

I looked at his dark blond hair, grown out from the military style he had when we first met. I looked at his strong jaw, and the confident set of his shoulders. I looked at his gray leather jacket, and the small patch on the sleeve which covers the bullet hole from Jam Pony.

He must have sensed me watching him, because he turned to look back at me suddenly, and our eyes met. In that moment, I could see in his green eyes everything I hadn't ever let myself see before.

I could see the deep remorse he felt for those he had killed, and the sadness he felt for the pain he had caused. I could see everything he had endured, the horror of going through re-indoctrination twice; once, simply because he shared the same genetic make-up as his brother who escaped, and again, because he hadn't wanted to kill the girl he loved.

I could see the pain he suffers everyday because he blames himself for not fighting hard enough to save Rachel, blames himself for her death. I could see the many masks he wears, the "tricks and treats" he uses, because he doesn't want to let anyone in, doesn't want anyone to see his weaknesses, his regret.

And, I could see in him, what I see in myself.

He has ancient eyes…like mine.

Fin

I hope that you enjoyed it. Please review and let me know what you think!

Take care and God bless!

Ani-maniac494