I'LL BLEED MYSELF DRY FOR YOU...

Summary: Max and Logan have a run in with a drug Lord...Logan comes out worse for wear.

It was dark. Large drops of rain the size of fists beat down on Seattle like a relentless warrior: furious... unforgiving. All was quiet except for the harsh beats of the rain as it pounded the ground. The sky, occasionally highlighted by the eerie bolts of lightning, was blood black and an ominous rumble of thunder punctuated the night. The streets seemed deserted; everyone sought refuge from the storm. Well, almost everyone...

A lone figure walked down the forsaken road. The rain didn't seem to bother her; she was deep in thought. Standing at 5ft 6", the figure had curly brown hair that stopped just past her neck, and chocolate brown eyes that looked deeply troubled. After a while, she retreated into a building. Elevator opening on command, this lone figure made her journey up the building, soft drops of rain quietly gliding off the black leather of her jacket and settling at her feet. There was a sense of foreboding. She didn't need to be here. She shouldn't be here; but she was. After all, he needed her...didn't he?

With stealth, the lock was picked and she entered the apartment. She took in her surroundings. Teak hardwood floors, modernist paintings, plush leather couches, all set against the backdrop of the Seattle skyline filtering in through the wall-to-ceiling windows, greeted her; without a doubt, the place was homey. The crackling fire beckoned her, but first, she had to find him.

Silently manoeuvring her way round the apartment, she finally found the object of her heart's desire. Unaware of her presence, she took the chance to study him. It had been a while since she had let her gaze freely roam over him. Taking in the sight of his dirty-blonde spiky hair and strong shoulders, she sighed appreciatively. Slightly slouched in the chair, his long legs were stretched out before him and his fingers formed an arch were they met; elbows rested on each armrest. Staring at the screen, he seemed to be contemplating something.

He sat there, in front of his computer, completely oblivious to the gaze of the dark haired beauty studying him only 4 feet away. Sitting up suddenly, his dextrous fingers resumed their job tapping at the keypad in front of him. Finally, she decided to make her presence known.

"Knock -knock," she said quietly. A small smile playing at her lips as she saw him jump.

"Max!" he gasped as he spun his chair around to face her. "I didn't know you were here."

"You weren't meant to," she replied sarcastically.

Cerulean blue eyes gazed deeply into hers for a second, then slowly took in her appearance. She was soaking wet. Her normally curly bouncing hair wasn't the only thing that was sticking to her frame. Her skin was slightly tinged blue, and she shivered. "You were in the rain."

"What gave it away? The water on the floor or the fact that I look like a drowned rat?"

"Uh...that too," he smiled good-naturedly.

His smile was contagious; with a smile of her own she said, "I need to get changed; I'll be back in a few." With that, she headed towards the guest bedroom where she had left a few of her clothes the last time she was here.

Changing slowly into a black tank and fresh pair of jeans, Max contemplated why she was there. Why did she keep coming back? It was dangerous to get involved with someone. Especially someone like Logan, he was constantly getting into trouble from all the detective work he did. A voice in her head told her to break the ties, not get involved. After all, emotions were a weakness; they made you vulnerable and clouded your judgement. She was a soldier, and she was not meant to feel the things she was feeling. But she was human; she couldn't control these feelings, even if she wanted to.

With all these thoughts and doubts swirling through her head, Max decided that she had spent too long in the bedroom changing, and went to face Logan. She found him in the same position as before, a grim look marring his handsome face.

"What's got you so stressed?"

"What? Oh...nothing much, just this case I've been working on. It's that drug Lord I was you about the other day- Antonio Dinnizo; goes by the name Bigg D." He waited for a sign of confirmation before continuing. "Word on the street is that he's in town, and there's a deal going down in sector 4 at 2 am."

"Let me guess...you wanna go check it out?"

"Yeah...but I'm not sure, something doesn't feel right." He looked at the screen again, the offending frown returning.

"Well Logan, its 11:31 pm, so you gotta make a decision quick. If you want us to go check it out, say the word, and I'll get the surveillance equipment ready."

He looked at her. Eyes boring deep within her, all the way down to her soul. After awhile, Max broke the eye contact; his gaze was too intense. He looked at the screen for a few more moment before complying.

"Okay then. Get the stuff and let's head out."

****

It all happened so fast. Everything seemed to have spiralled out of control, and Max found herself in the worst situation she could have ever imagined. Logan was in her arms, dying. Waiting in silence for the ambulance, she didn't trust herself to speak. There was so much blood around her...she dreaded to think that it was all Logan's. The piece of cloth she had tied over his wound was soaked through, and she didn't know what else to do but apply pressure to the gunshot wound. As she did, she tried to remember how they got into this situation. In a distant part of her mind, the wails of the ambulance and the gentle voice of one of the paramedics as they tried to speak to her penetrated the fog, that was her mind, but try as she might, she was unable to clear the fog enough to focus on what they were saying. The only coherent thought in her mind was centred on saving Logan. They had to get him to a hospital. He needed to get stitches and probably a transfusion. Surely, he had lost too much blood. While Logan was loaded into the ambulance and prepped for transportation, in the back of her mind, she vaguely heard herself briefly explain to the police what went down.

At the hospital, Max was forced to leave Logan while he went into surgery for his wounds, and she had to attend to her own wounds. The deep gash on her forehead where she had been hit with a pipe was oozing blood a nasty shade of crimson. She touched the congealed blood, and then let the Medic clean the wound. She had forgotten about that.

Soon after, Logan was brought out of surgery having received multiple stitches for the bullet wound and the knife gash down his midsection. The second Max saw him being wheeled in, she ran to his side. He looked too pale. Addressing the short bald doctor in a white lab-coat, she softly asked, "How is he?"

"And who might you be?"

"Just tell me, is he dying?"

Sighing, he replied, "Look...He's lost a lot of blood, and the blood banks are tapped. Mr Cale is AB-, and that's the hardest blood type to find. But at the moment he seems to be doing all right. We're trying our best to get blood to him, but things are stressful these days. The second anything comes up, we'll let you know." With that, the doctor walked off in the opposite direction, first stopping to talk to the receptionist, before continuing on down the hall.

Max walked into Logan's room and looked at him, tears in her eyes. He looked so fragile. How could they go from talking and laughing one moment, to this? Antonio Dinnizo. He was the cause of all her pain and suffering. It was a set-up, they knew they were being watched, and the second Max and Logan came in, they were ready.

*****

"What took you so long? For a moment there, I though you weren't going to show." Big D stood tall at 6ft 6", and watched as Max and Logan entered the warehouse. Four or five men, built around the frame of wrestlers, flanked him on all sides, each one as menacing as the next. They were ambushed. The only way out of the warehouse was through the door they came through, and that was undoubtedly out of the question.

"Don't worry, we're not ones to disappoint." Max shot off, aiming for cockiness to try and bluff her way out of this unexpected situation. Casting a glance at Logan, she held his gaze for a second, then returned it to slowly advancing party.

Taking on a fighting stance, she called for them to halt their actions. "I really wouldn't wanna hurt you; don't you think it would be better for us to call it a night? Whadya say kiddos?" Max's military training had kicked in full gear, but she still had that streetwise cockiness she had acquired over the years of being out. As she assessed the situation, she looked for the quickest way to exit the building.

Soon they were in a fist-to-fist battle. Or so she thought. A gunshot rang in the air, and Logan went down. Turning to look at him, she observed he was bleeding from more than one point. As she tried to get to him, she felt the white-hot pain in the side of her head, signifying the pipe that was whacked against it. She felt nauseous, but she had to get to Logan. He meant too much to her, and she couldn't lose him. Not like this.

Throwing a fist, she knocked out her attacker and rushed to Logan. Somewhere in her mind, she realised that they had left...she didn't know why, and she didn't care. She looked on at Logan; the fear in here eyes was palpable. "If you die on me, I'll kick your ass." There was no humour in those words, just pure terror like she had never known before. She called the ambulance...

*****

Coming back to the present, a small sob rose from her throat as she continued to gaze, at the man she loved, as he slowly slipped away from her. She couldn't stand it anymore. Max picked up a catheter and needle, and inserted one end into her arm, and the other into Logan's.

"Lucky for you I'm a Universal Donor." With those word's, she transfused him. She couldn't let him die; it would be like losing a part of herself. So she sat with him as she watched the blood flow from her arm into his. Soon, she began to feel drowsy, but she couldn't bring herself to remove the catheter, she had to make sure he was alive. As she laid her head on his chest, the last coherent thought that passed through her mind just before she blacked out was, "...I'll bleed myself dry for you..."