One-shot, because I would fall apart if I had to write more emotional scenes. I bawled all through Fang and through writing this, anyway. This is set post-Fang, after Max has read the note that Fang has left. I really hate to throw in a Twilight analogy but it's bashing Twilight, so that's okay, right? This is really emo but that's how I felt while reading the end and after finishing it. I read it in an hour and a half, at midnight last night to read Fang start to finish. I LOVED IT! Anyway, sorry if this is discombobulated or choppy, but I really needed to get some emotions out. It was therapeutic, if you must know. Enjoy! ~Megan/SunsetJello
One week.
One week is what I give myself.
One week to grieve, to fall apart, to completely lose my mind.
I mean, it's not like a week is overkill, right? Seven lousy days. Bella freaking Swan was out of it for four months, and it was only Edward freaking Cullen who left her. She'd known him what, less than a year? Love at first sight, all that crap? Nudge can believe that load of hooey all she wants, but I don't believe in love at first sight. Not for me, anyway.
I've known Fang for my whole life. Fifteen frickin' years. It took fourteen and a half of those years to fall in love. Suck on that, Bella. He left because he loves me, loves ALL of us, and wants us to survive. He's the strong one, the unselfish one, the one who knows what had to be done to save the whole entire WORLD.
Fang means so much more to me than Edward could ever mean to Bella. Fang's been there through everything, save a few hiccups. (See book three for those shenanigans.) He knows me better than I know myself. He didn't leave under false pretenses, didn't try to sugarcoat it, to make me think that he didn't care about me. The exact polar opposite, in fact. That note was more emotion than I've seen him show in his whole life combined.
One week.
One week to function at the lowest level possible for survival of the flock. One week of auto-Max. One week of stumbling through the motions, of getting through the day only to put the kids to bed and collapse on the couch sobbing, just sobbing into a pillow. I try to hide it from the flock, but they know me far too well. They're concerned but also a little annoyed. I mean, wasn't that why he had left? So I could concentrate on keeping us alive and the world intact, not on the next time I'd get a chance to kiss him.
I know I'm being ridiculous, but one week is not a huge amount of time to grieve over losing my best friend, my soul mate (not Dylan, who would never be my soulmate despite was he was engineered for), my true other half.
One week to be completely, totally, unMaxlike. To brood, to cry. To remember what Fang feels like, looks like, tastes like. To second guess myself, every decision I made to make the situation come to this, every decision I make from this point forward.
One week to fall apart, and then one night to pull myself together. At the end of that week, I'll have to put on my big-girl panties and deal with it. For my own sake, for the sake of my family, for the sake of the world. One night to forget Fang. To forget the one person I felt comfortable sharing my most innermost feelings and thoughts with. The one I felt the most vulnerable with, but simultaneously the safest.
One night to undo a life's worth of Fang. But I have to do it. I'm not stupid (most of the time); I know what has to be done.
God, twenty years is a LONG freaking time. But I know Fang. He's strong, the strongest person I know, but he's not infallible. Something will happen to totally change the situation and he'll be back. It may not be until the world's been to hell and back, but it'll happen. I'll be waiting.
But first, one week.
One week, because it's all I can give myself at this point.
One. Week.