Dr. Vertes is dead, and so are my hopes of ever walking again. So are all my hopes for my life. I should be dead, too.

The last few days, I was completely focused on the single-minded pursuit of staying vertical. Even as my strength continued to deteriorate, I refused to sit down. I struggled to stay standing and to continue walking while the numbness radiated down my legs. At times, I could barely feel my feet. I had to concentrate on every step. Any minor distraction precipitated a fall. A crack in the sidewalk became an accident waiting to happen. A curb became a cliff. It required all my strength and determination just to step into the street. In those few days, I fell so many times. Still I refused to use my cane in the apartment. Near the end, I was almost courting the falls. At least the pain as I hit the ground could break through the growing numbness in my lower body. Now I wish I could still trip and fall. I wish I could still struggle off a curb. I wish I could still feel pain. But that is all over.

For a moment, though, it appeared that I had found a solution. I had found my Manticore doctor. She understood the effects of stem cell enriched blood and she knew how to deal with the consequences of rejection. She had even achieved results in the past. All my hopes were pinned on her. She was my one and only chance.

Then Max informed me that an X5 assassin had attempted to kill my doctor. I could feel the panic rising within me at that news, and my body justified that panic. I fell flat on my face in front of Max. I couldn’t even feel my knees as they hit they ground. I couldn’t feel anything in my legs. I insisted that I could do it myself, hoping, praying that I had sufficient feeling left to get up. But it took Max’s strength to get me into the chair. So I attacked her. She looked like she was ready to kill me at that moment, but instead she flung my jacket at me and took me to Dr. Vertes. Now I wish she had killed me.

I tried to apologize in the car. It wasn’t her problem. It wasn’t her fault. It was mine. I tried to explain my situation to her, but I knew she would never be able to understand what I was feeling. By the time we had arrived at the safe house, my anger dissipated. The only thing that remained was fear and desperation.

"Please, leave it." I pled softly when Max began to reach for the wheelchair. I knew that if Vertes’ treatment didn’t work, it would probably be the last time I would ever walk.

Max looked at me with such sorrow. I could see her heart was breaking. She placed her arm around my waist and supported most of my weight as she helped me out of the car. Somehow, I was able to send some signals to my legs and take a few steps. I leaned on her heavily as we struggled into the building. Max led me directly to a chair and helped me to sit down. I no longer had the strength to stand on my own. Then I caught another glimpse of the pain in her eyes before she turned to question Dr.Vertes.

When Dr. Vertes threatened to leave, my panic just grew. I couldn’t comprehend that possibility. She couldn’t just abandon me. I sat there clutching my cane as my life continued to spin out of control. I can’t describe the relief that I felt when Max convinced her to return to her clinic. Max hated that woman. She would have preferred her dead, but she protected her to help me. Max’s feelings barely registered with me at that point. All I was concerned about was walking. But of course, things continued to deteriorate. Within a few hours that X5, Jace, had returned and we were all caught in a tangled mess. Suddenly, Vertes and Max were protecting Jace. I couldn’t believe the risks they were both taking.

At least Dr. Vertes continued to treat me. I endured needles and pain, but the first several treatments showed no results at all. Then we suddenly made some progress. I was able to push the pedals on Vertes’ ergonometer a fraction of an inch. My efforts actually registered on her monitor as a minor blip. But at least there was a blip where before there was nothing at all. ‘You’re on your way back’ were her exact words. For the first time in days, I smiled. I had a reason to hope again.

I never expected Vertes to put herself in Lydecker’s hands. I never expected her to be that stupid. Yet when Max told me that Vertes had been killed and my hopes of walking disappeared with her, I barely reacted. All the pain and sorrow and frustration disappeared and were replaced by a perfect numbness that took over my body and my soul. I couldn’t feel my legs anymore. I couldn’t feel anything. I remember talking to Max, but not really being present.

"Not the best news I could have gotten," I calmly said to her. I remember thinking that I should be reacting more, but knowing that there was no reason to. My life was already over. It was just a matter of time. Nothing that I could have said would have made a difference. I remember Max trying to reassure me, and me giving her all the pat answers.

"Logan, this is going to be okay."

"Yeah."

"See you later."

"Yeah. See you later."

I took care of a couple of pieces of business with Max and sent her on her way. Then I dragged my half-dead body into my chair one final time and pushed myself to my desk to retrieve my gun. Yet despite everything, the survivor in me insisted on searching for one final sign of hope. I’ve got a massive bruise on my thigh where I repeatedly hit my leg against the table, searching for any sign of sensation, but knowing that none would come. In the end, I only succeeded in proving to myself what I had to do. It’s amazing the damage you can do to yourself when you turn off your mind. It’s so easy to pull out a gun and load a bullet. It’s so easy to take your own life when you are numb, when your legs are numb, when your mind is numb, when your soul is numb.

Then a call came in for one last job for Eyes Only. Water dripping from the ceiling. Can’t leave it alone. Have to find out the cause. It’s coming from Mrs. Moreno’s suite. Is she okay? Better make sure. I can always do this later. How ironic. Saved by Eyes Only.

"Maybe it would be better if I just died." That sounded so absurd coming from Mrs. Moreno. Of course, there was no reason why she should die. She didn’t need to talk like that or think like that. She just needed someone to put a hand on her shoulder and comfort her. So I spoke to her gently, reassuring her that she would be okay, telling her she didn’t need to say those things. As I heard myself say those words, something pierced through the numbness that had enveloped me, and I caught a glimpse of the illogic of what I had been thinking. Why did those words sound so absurd coming from Mrs. Moreno when they seemed perfectly appropriate for me? How could she say that I had everything to live for? Didn’t she see that I was back in the wheelchair? Didn’t she notice it?

I put Mrs. Moreno safely in the hands of the paramedics, then I returned downstairs. But I couldn’t stop replaying her words. How could she say those things about me? I had barely reentered my apartment when Max rushed towards me, desperately wrapping her arms around me. I had forgotten about Max. I had forgotten about everything except what I had to do. I remember wondering for a moment what she was doing there. Then the realization hit. She knew. I could hear the fear and the worry in her voice. I wouldn’t want to hurt her for the world, but I put that fear in her voice. I pulled her closer to me then, trying to reassure her that I would be okay. But I knew that a simple embrace would not be enough, so I released my hold and I did the only thing I could do. I put the gun away. At that moment, it wasn’t about me anymore. It was about Max. That act was my unspoken commitment to Max that I would find my way through this.

So I’m not dead. But I realize now that my feelings will not go away that easily. I succeeded in cutting through the numbness, but all the pain and frustration have returned. I still want to die. I so desperately want to end this life of mine. At this moment, I doubt that my commitment to Max will be strong enough to keep me alive. It may be enough to get me through tonight, but I don’t know if it will be enough to get me through tomorrow, or the next day. I can’t do this by myself. I need someone to comfort me, too. For the few moments that Max had her arms around me, I allowed myself to feel her warmth. But I pulled away too soon. I wish I had held on much longer. I wish I had said more. I wish I had asked her to stay. I need so much more. I would give so much to have her arms around me once again, to feel her warmth and caring, to feel her human touch. I so desperately need to feel a human touch right now. I so desperately need someone to hold onto me and help me through this. But I don’t have the courage to call Max and ask her to come back. I don’t even have the courage to talk to Bling, and he’s just in the next room. I’m so desperate for something to change, but I don’t know how I can make that happen. I doubt that I will find the "everything to live for" that Mrs. Moreno is so sure that I have. The blackness still envelops me. My legs still don’t work. I still hate my life. But I’ve made one decision. I won’t kill myself…at least not tonight.