Summary: Years later, things have calmed down, but Fang is missing something from their old adrenalin fuelled adventures, and he thinks he can find it in self harming, until Max puts him right. All you need is love. One-shot. Suggestive NOT graphic.

A/N: This just popped into my head. I don't know why I think of these things. Just so you know, I don't, and have never self-harmed, but I know people who have. This is a very sensitive issue for some people, so any ignorant comments will be deleted. I'm not saying this is something Fang would do, but like I said, it just popped into my head. Enjoy... or not... you know...

Fang POV

Max dragged herself down the stairs, barely lifting her feet, yawning. Blearily, she rubbed a hand over her eyes as she flumped down into a seat at the kitchen table. Now we no longer had to get up at the ugly crack of dawn to avoid getting caught, I'd discovered Max was in no way 'a morning person'. Maximum Ride is definitely a 'bed person', all the way. Well, what can I say, we were making the most of uninterrupted sleep, and the luxury of a safe sanctuary. I however, had been enjoying the free two hours of silence I'd gotten to myself when Dr Martinez had left for work, and Ella for school, and the rest of the flock were still in bed. Lazy loafers! I was the only one that still got up early, and Max enjoyed making bird type jokes at my expense, 'Up with the lark' and all that. I didn't want to tell her the reason I still got up early was because recently I could barely sleep for four hours straight, let alone a whole night before I started awake unexpectedly.

Max was wearing a little pair of pants and a huge blue t-shirt that she wore to bed. The t-shirt had been mine – well, I think I had gotten it for Christmas, and when the flock had laughed as I stared in disgust at an item of clothing that wasn't black, Max had snatched it up for herself. Her wings were proudly on show, poking through the slits in the back of the shirt. Just then, as I was watching her, Max gave a sleepy sigh, leant her head down on the table, closed her eyes and smiled a little. And in that moment, when the sun shone brightly through the window, lightening her tousled, brown hair to golden, and making the tanned flecks on her wings jump out at me, I felt such an overwhelming love for her. That's right... Love! I'm in love, whoopdy doo, let's all go dance on the rooftops... not.

And spontaneously, I walked silently up behind her tired, droopy head, gently put my hand on the side of her head, and gave her a little kiss where her hair parted.

"Good morning," she grinned, opening her eyes.

"Afternoon," I corrected her, "It's half twelve."

"Whatever," she mumbled, smiling. She started to fondle my hand playfully, fiddling with my fingers. I got a horrible cold flush when I realised she might notice my... In alarm, I pulled my arm back from her, my heart pounding loudly in my ears, tugging my long black sleeves down to cover my wrists better.

"Toast?" I asked, trying to cover up my slip up.

"Sure, thanks," she said slowly, a frown beginning to appear on her forehead.

I walked away, and stood glaring venomously at the toaster with my back to Max, willing it to pop up with breakfast before she could say...

"What's with you?"

I made a face at the toaster. Damn, she knew me too well! "Nothing." I said shortly.

The toast popped suddenly, actually making me jump about a foot in the air. "Fang..." Max said, in the tone that just suggests a raised eyebrow. "How much coffee have you had this morning?" She asked playfully.

"None," I answered truthfully, thinking it would have been better to just lie and blame my jumpiness on caffeine, but I couldn't face coffee, I was wired enough already without it. I picked the toast up, dropping it hastily on a plate as it burnt my fingers and dumped it on the table in front of Max. I slid the peanut butter across the counter to her, but chose to stand on the other side of the counter to her with my own toast.

I took a bite quickly to avoid any awkward conversations, but Max wasn't done with me yet.

"Seriously," She said, "Fang what's wrong?" I took another sudden bite of my toast. Max reached across the counter to me, putting her hand over my free hand lying on the counter. "I thought we could tell each other everything?"

I swallowed slowly, twisting on the backs of my heels. "I'm not sure you'd understand," I said, quietly, eventually.

"Try me," Max said, smiling.

I sighed, and put down my half eaten breakfast - I wasn't really feeling like it anyway.

"Do you ever... I dunno... do you ever... miss our old life?" Max looked at me quizzically, her rich, brown eyes confused. It sounded stupid when I said it out loud. I barely understood it myself. "I mean, this is all really nice and stuff, but is this all it's gonna be? Just sitting around and drifting through the days? It just doesn't feel like enough. It feels like there should be something... more..."

Max didn't get it. I knew she wouldn't. "I thought," she said, a hard note to her voice, "You wanted to find a quiet place, where nobody knew where we were, and just 'chill'." She put air quotations with her fingers around the word 'chill'. She was annoyed I wasn't appreciating her efforts at normalising our life.

"I thought I did, but..." To say I was bored wouldn't cover it. 'Bored' was a bland word that had no reflection on the frustration I was feeling, but it was the best I could come up with. "Compared to before with all the car chases and fights, this just feels slow," I shrugged.

Max's eyes narrowed at the shrug. I was totally rubbing her up the wrong way this morning... afternoon, but she kept silent. She knew once I got on a role she had to let me talk, and she didn't want to risk me clamming up on her, which lately I'd been prone to doing. Things were bad when I felt I couldn't even talk to Max. I tried to figure out the feelings in my head. As you know, I'm not exactly the wordy, share all type, but this was complicated even for me. I couldn't figure it out for myself, let alone try explain it to Miss Maximum.

"There was something in those fights. I..." I winced as the thought presented itself in my head. "I kind of... a part of me enjoyed it." I stopped talking quickly. I didn't want Max's memories of my heroism - if I do say so myself - to be tainted with this sadistic realisation.

But to my relief she said quietly, "Yeah I know what you mean. It was like pay-back, and satisfying, because they deserved it," but that wasn't what I meant. I enjoyed the fights not because I enjoyed inflicting pain on the Erasers, but because I got a sense of rightness whenever I was hurt. A part of me felt I only knew I was alive and surviving if I could still feel the pain - it was my way of making sure I hadn't become numb, or become a robot, like they wanted us to be - invincible. I knew if I could still feel the physical pain, a part of me was still human.

And now that it was gone I felt... dead. There was nothing in this life to get me excited, nothing to get my adrenalin pumping. It was just lounging around the house, and even though I'd thought it would be great, lounging wasn't working for me. And yet, I was constantly on a rush, jumpy and jittery all the time. I had no way to get rid of this pent up energy that I used to expell with every punch... except for... I had found something else.

Max's hand was still lying companionably over my own, and as I resurfaced out of my thoughts, I saw Max frowning down at them. I looked down too, and suddenly Max's hand closed tightly around my wrist, pulling me towards her. Jeez, she was strong.

"What's that on your wrist?" She demanded, glaring at my arm. I said nothing, frozen, sending a plea with my eyes. She met my stare with such a pained, disappointed look that I dropped my gaze, lowering my eyes to the floor. And I felt her fingers gently brush my skin, and lift up my sleeve. There was a small gasp, and her warm fingers traced over the lines across my veins.

"Oh Fang!" She whispered, and I couldn't stand the sound of tears in her voice.

Her hand caressed my arm as she rose from the table, came slowly towards me, and still with one hand covering my wrist, slid her other arm around my waist and pressed close to me, pushing me back against the counter. "I understand," she whispered. "And I still love you, but you don't have to do this. We can work this out." She finally uncovered my wrist, looking at it again, a little sadly, before maneuvering me and placing my hand on her neck. "It'll be alright." I used to pride myself on never needing anyone to support me, or to tell me it was okay, but Max whispering in my ear "It'll be alright," was the one sentence I really needed to hear.

"I love you too," I whispered into her brown hair.

And then she leaned up and kissed me.

All you need is love.

A/N: It might be a bit OOC, but ah well. I don't know why Fang, in my stories, is so angsty. Maybe that's saying something...