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Bella Luna 1213- I know what you mean. Thanks for reviewing.

ME- I was worried because I know you don't like him pathetic. I must say he is sort of "pathetic" in my storylines. That was why I was worried. – But thanks for reviewing. Glad to know you still like it!

Lolly81- Thanks for the review. Max just needed to be away from Logan.

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Huntress K – Yes at this moment it is around female trouble, I basically follow the storylines , but do it differently. Thanks for the review. THANKS!

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Chapter 1: Logan got his back surgery and lost his feeling from the chest down.
Chapter 2: Bling takes Logan home
Chapter 3: Max and Logan kissed. Logan didn't tell Max about his condition.
Chapter 4: Logan in bed, exploring his body and falls asleep.
Chapter 5: Logan lied to Max about his condition and watched TV together in bed.
Chapter 6: Max gets a seizure and Logan tried to help her.
Chapter 7: Logan has ripped his stitches
Chapter 8: Growing closer together
Chapter 9: Bling tried to convince Logan to tell Max the truth.
Chapter 10: Logan wakes up and is able to feel, but not able to move.
Chapter 11: Logan got out of bed by himself, after Sam left and got told off by Bling.
Chapter 12: Max gives Logan another blood transfusion.
Chapter 13: Able to wiggles the toes, Max learns about Logan's spasms
Chapter 14: Logan burns himself out during exercise. Bling is telling him to slow down.
Chapter 15: Logan rises in front of Max, and is able to walk on crutches.
Chapter 16: A trip to the park. Logan kind of fools around with Max.
Chapter 17: He enjoys her touch, they dance, she learns about his scars and feels guilty.
Chapter 18: Logan gets a spasm in front of Max, the day ends together in bed.
Chapter 19: Logan receives bad news from Sam. His body is rejecting Max's stem cells.
Chapter 20: Logan is upset. His body is giving him trouble.
Chapter 21: They dance until his legs are giving up on him.
Chapter 22: Logan finally tells Max the truth about his condition.
Chapter 23: Max is in heat and "attacks" Logan who is physically unable to stop her.
Chapter 24: Max fled after her attack, leaving logan upset about her "behaviour"

Chapter 25: Bling searches for Max, while Logan is home alone and considering himself as a failure.


Chapter 26: The Gun

. . .



"Hey," Max said tiredly or as she dropped her bag on the bench.

"Damn, girl."


"You look like shit," Original Cindy stated as she eyed her Boo up and down, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and her normally bouncy curls dangling limply in her face.

"Been up all night, I had to clear my head." Max sat down on the bench, elbows on her knees, face buried in her hands. "Oh God, what have I done!" she cried.

"Hey, are you alright, Boo?" Original Cindy placed her arm around her friend's shoulder as she sat down next to her.

"I'm in heat again."

"Why the tears, Sugah? You can beat this bitch! You did it before."

"It's too late," she sighed.

"What d'ya mean, it's too late?" O.C. looked at her homegirl with understandably sympathy in her eyes.

"I . . . I hit on Logan," Max sobbed as she felt another tear welling up.

"Well, he's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle that," O.C. grinned.

"You don't understand."

"It's not the end of the world, Boo,"

"You don't get it. I had this dream and I acted it out on Logan. I hurt the man I love, O.C." She inhaled deeply and looked at Original Cindy. "I will never forget the look on his face."

"Hey, it's gonna be okay." Original Cindy tried to convince her.

"Oh God, what have I done?" Max abruptly stood up and slammed her fist into her locker with frustration, leaving a big dent behind. "Then after I hurt Logan, I just left him. Just blazed outta there and ended up mackin it with some random guy….What kind of a horrible person am I?"

"Max, you're exaggerating!"

"No! I attacked him and left him while he was hurting! God, how can I face him after what I did to him?"

"Listen girl, you are exaggerating! Hot boy's therapist was here and he said that Logan was doin' just fine."

"Wait, Bling was here?"


"Gotta make a call," Max said as she turned around and dashed off.

"Max!" Original Cindy drawled, "You forgot ya bag," receiving no reaction, she sighed and gracefully strode after Max.

Wasting no time with quarters, Max slammed her fist against the payphone and rapidly dialed Logan's number. "Come on, Logan, pick up. I know you're home. Come on, come on!"

"Girl, you've gotta have some patience. He might need some more time to get to the phone!" O.C rolled her eyes at her.

"It's taking too long now," she muttered as she impatiently drummed her fingers on the receiver. "Something's wrong. I can feel it."

"Boo, you are overreacting! Bling said he was aiight!" Original Cindy crossed her arms as she watched the frantic state her friend was in.

"No . . . I can feel it, something is wrong!" Max dropped the phone turned around and ran off.

"Max, wait! You forgot . . . ya bag," she sighed in defeat when she realized that Max was long gone.


. . .


Soft classical music came out of the stereo in the computer room.

Logan stared at the black shiny gun in his right hand. When he was doing his own 'legwork', he had always had the gun with him for his own safety, but had never killed anyone. In fact, with the exception of a few light scratches on the surface, the gun looked almost new.

Thoughtfully, he placed the gun on his desktop. Holding onto the desktop he carefully reached down again to retrieve the box of 9 mm bullets from his drawer, pulling small box out of the drawer, he placed it next to his gun.

Slowly he lifted the cardboard lid up and took out a bullet with this thumb and index finger. He rolled the golden bullet back and forth between his fingers, feeling the cold metal against his fingertips before he put the bullet in the clip.

As he listened to the classical piece, which was slowly fading out, he added another bullet to the metal clip in his hand. Figuring that in the offhand chance that the first bullet didn't do it's job, the second definitely would.

Logan slowly slid the ammunition clip into his gun and cocked it. Watching the gleam of the metal as he stared at the gun in front of him, he gradually pointed it upwards.

The music had ended. Logan could hear his stereo shuffle as it randomly picked out the next track.

It was Sibelius, Valse Triste. The music from the car; the music where they shared their first real dance, it had also been their last. This used to be their song, his and Max, but now he was on his own. Completely alone.

He turned on the volume up with his remote. The sounds of the cellos echoed through his apartment. This would be the last song he would listen to, this was now his song.

Logan turned the gun around and stared down the barrel. This time he wanted to see the bullet when it came out. He didn't want to be caught off guard, like he had been when Bruno Anselmo shot him. Idle thoughts raced through his mind, would he be able to see the bullet coming out? Would he be able to feel it? Would he be able to hear it? Would it hurt? Deciding that the deep pain he felt would soon no longer be a problem, Logan dismissed his fears.

His eyes slowly wandered from the gun to his computer and he caught his own reflection on the black monitor. He didn't like what he saw. This person had wrinkles across his forehead, big, dark, puffy circles underneath his eyes. This person was old, this person was useless, this person was nothing, this person was a failure.

With the gun in his hand, he pushed himself away from the desk, away from his own reflection. Away from the person he had become.

When his chair stopped a few feet away from the desk, he carefully slid his index finger through the loop and rested it on the trigger; releasing the safety from the gun he waited. He would wait for the climax of this wonderful piece of Sibelius, the part when the strikes instruments would reach its momentum, his favorite part. He wanted to enjoy the last sounds he would ever hear.


. . .


Max jumped out of the elevator and reached Logan's door, her instincts telling her that something was definitely wrong. In no time she picked the lock and entered his apartment, overloaded with the dramatic music.

She went straight to the computer room where the music was blaring from the stereo in the corner.

It was there that she found Logan staring at his gun, which he had pointed at his head, oblivious to the world around him.

"Logan," she whispered. Her voice faltered. Max was in shock, she had never considered that Logan would do this to himself, that he would consider suicide.

Max reached out for the stereo and slowly turned the volume down.

"Logan," she kept her voice as calmly as she could.

He slowly looked to his right and saw Max standing in his doorway. Her worried brown eyes met his blank, lifeless blue ones.

"Go away, Max," he ordered as if he was occupied with something major. He slowly turned his gaze back to his gun.

"Logan, don't do anything stupid," she tried again and slowly took a step towards him.

"Stay where you are, don't come closer."

"Listen to me, it's not worth it," she pleaded as she carefully shoveled forwards.

"I don't think you understand, Max," he said coldly.

"Logan . . ."

"I felt what it was like to function like a regular person again, to be whole, complete," he said to his gun.

"You've never not been that to me."

"Staying out of that wheelchair matters more than anything else in my life, anything. But now?" he sighed. ". . . Well, I am not going to live my life like this . . ." He kept his focus on the pistol.

"You have so much to live for."

"Like what?" he snapped as he glared at her.

"What about Eyes Only, the people need you, Logan."

"They don't need me, they need Eyes Only!" he said bitterly as he continued his endless staring contest with his gun.

"But you are Eyes Only, Logan."

"It's just a job, anyone can replace me," he said through gritted teeth, ignoring her stare.

"Damn it, Logan. What part don't you get? No one can replace you! I need you, Logan!" Max raised her voice at him.

"You don't, Max, you would be better off without me. I'll just slow you down, I'm nothing but a burden. You've seen it yourself, I'm a cripple, " he said when he recalled her reaction on him.

"I don't care about your damn chair. Did you ever consider that I might love you for who you are?"

Max waited for his reaction, and when she didn't receive one she let out a deep sigh. "Damn it, Logan Cale! I love you, no matter what!"

Logan still kept his focus on the gun while Max was only just a few feet away. Neither of them said a word until the sound of the door slamming shut broke the eerie silence.

It was Bling.

"Hey guys, what's going. . ." Bling eyes had widened. "Logan . . . don't do anything stupid." Bling said with his calming voice, eyes fixed on the gun, which Logan still had pointed at himself.

Logan remained silent.

Bling, who stood in the doorframe, quickly glanced over to Max, trying to get her eye contact.

"Logan, please give me the gun. We can work things out."

"Listen to Max, Logan. Give her the gun." Bling repeated calmly after her.

"Please . . ." she pleaded.

Logan showed no reaction.

"Come on, it's not worth it," Max whispered. She carefully took a step closer towards him.

"Don't come closer!" he warned and turned his back away from her. The sudden movement didn't agree with his back and cause a severe spasm. Logan felt pain searing across his back and dropped the gun as he twisted in agony.

"No!!!" Max yelled and dove for the gun.

It was too late.

The gun went off.

. . .

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