Disclaimer: I do not own Max, Fang, or the teensy little bit of song lyrics at the end, which belong to John Frusciante.
When Fang got back to their apartment, she wasn't there. He swore and hurried back down the stairs to his car. She was always home before him. Where would she go? He turned the keys in the ignition and as the engine sputtered back to life, wished for the first time that day that he could just fly. That was probably what Max was doing.
He swore again. Of course that's what Max was doing. She had never been one to follow the rules. Fang turned the car off and the engine made a strained noise. He patted the car's hood as he walked back through the parking lot. The best place to take off from around here would be the park by the edge of the city. The more central one was bigger and denser, but people were much more likely to notice a winged person ascending from the middle of the city than they were from the outside. It was also closer to the apartment building. Fang took off at a steady jog.
It was a rather pathetic park: just a few taller trees, some neglected younger ones, and a dirt pathway leading through the scrubby bushes. Fang spread his wings under the cover of one of the larger pine trees, hidden by the snow covered needles. He scanned the park for Max's slight form, but it was empty. He took a deep breath and pushed his wings through the air.
Fang hadn't flown for a very long time, but he remembered the technique as though it had been yesterday. The joints in his shoulder blades felt sore and they cracked a few times, but then he was flying smoothly, away from the protection of the pine tree and in the open for all to see. His wings surged faster and he rose higher, too high to be recognized by human eyes. The wind blew in his face, lifting his dark hair from his forehead and away from his eyes.
But now was not the time to get distracted. Max. Where would she go? Fang scanned what he could see of the sky, just in case she was nearby. She wasn't. He angled his wings and soared higher on an updraft. He had almost forgotten how amazing flying was; it had been so long. Three years, nearly to the day… And then he knew exactly where she was.
It took him maybe an hour to get there. It had probably taken Max no time at all, considering her supersonic speeding ability. He smiled, remembering when she had discovered her power; it had been so long ago. So much had changed since then. Fang remembered how she had used her ability to try to run away. Not anymore. What was she using it for now? Fang imagined she was trying to fly back, back to the way things used to be.
He landed in the middle of a secluded clearing, far isolated form the metal and smoke of the city. He could feel the blood pulsing near his wings and the adrenaline in his veins. Max was sitting against a tree, her knees tucked up against her chest and her hair covering her face. "I knew you'd figure it out," she said, not looking at him.
He sat down next to her. She pushed one side of her hair back behind her ear. "How long have you been here?" He asked, his voice soft.
"A long time. I left work early. Told them I was sick." She brushed her hair back again and swallowed, looking down. Her light coat was covered in snow, and a thin layer of moisture coated her hair and forehead. Her lips were pale and chapped.
"You will get sick if we don't leave soon," Fang pointed out.
She laughed humorlessly. "So?"
"So we should go back. You don't need to be here. Not today."
"But I do," she said softly, lifting her head for the first time and looking him in the eye. "You need to be here too, Fang. We can't forget. We can't ever forget."
"Max-" he stumbled, searching for the right words. "I haven't forgotten, but you shouldn't… Don't torture yourself like this. Please."
But she had gotten started now, and there was no stopping her. "We can't forget, Fang, ever, because it's who we are. If we lose them, we lose our whole past, everything we used to be, everything we ever wanted, and sometimes I don't even know if it's real anymore, so I need to be here, I want it more than anything else, and you should, too!" She was breathing heavily now, swallowing to control the tears that came anyway. Fang put his hand on her shoulder and she leaned into his side, mumbling, "I don't want to forget."
Fang shushed her, brushing snow out of her hair. "We're not going to forget," he said firmly. "Not ever." Max lifted her head and nodded, wiping away tears. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, still nodding her agreement. Fang worried about how cold her body felt, next to his own.
After a few minutes, Max lifted her arm to point at a tree across the clearing. "Angel sat over there," she said, her voice cracking with emotion. "There was a log there. It's gone now."
Fang looked briefly at the empty space, but then turned back to watch Max's face. Her pain was unshielded, in the open for him to see. The muscles in her face strained as she tried to control herself.
"And Gazzy sat next to her," she said, swallowing again, "and Nudge was sitting on that boulder." She pointed at the rock, which was still there, coated in ice and snow. "Iggy was standing behind her," Max said softly. Fang wondered how vivid the image was in her mind. Her eyes were glazed over, as though she was in a different time. "It wasn't snowing like now, it was raining, and we all got soaked." Another pause.
"It hurt so much to make them choose," she whispered.
"You had to do it," said Fang. "We didn't have a choice. They said-"
"That we'd be safer, apart," Max finished, her voice stronger now, defiant. "They said we'd be better off in pairs, that we'd live long, happy lives away from each other and forget about the past."
It sounded so absurd, when she put it like that. "It's what they said," Fang finished, his words sounding weak even to his own ears.
Max took a deep breath and returned to reminiscing. "They all said how hard it was to choose, but in the end, it was so easy." She looked at Fang. He nodded. Angel and Gazzy, the siblings, belonged together. And Iggy and Nudge had always had a sort of bond. Then Max and Fang- well, anyone could have seen that coming. He rubbed his thumb in small circles on her shoulder.
"I hope they're okay," said Max, crying silently now.
"They're fine," Fang reassured her, although he did have his own doubts.
"I just- I feel so, so empty without them," she stuttered. "Like… There's nothing left." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "That's why we have to remember."
Fang nodded, but he was already trying to block them out. That was how he dealt with things: he forgot them. An empty feeling had settled in his chest for the first time in years, listening to her talk about them. He couldn't imagine how it must hurt Max, to go through this everyday.
They sat together by the tree for a long time as he waited for her sobs to subside, still rubbing her shoulder. Fang could feel a sort of ache in his wings, a soreness form not using them for so long. The last time he'd flown had been coming back to the city with the flock, three years ago to the day, with the weight of separation hanging over their heads, weighing them down. He remembered each face as they glanced at him, the bliss from the sheer thrill of flying, and the dread and despair at the thought of the future. But after recalling the nuances of each face, he hid them away in the back of his mind, so he wouldn't have to see them again. It was over, and there was nothing Max or Fang could do about it. And so he let them go.
Max could never let them go, Fang knew that. He watched her as she composed herself, brushing her hair back and wiping her swollen cheeks. If it was Fang, the memories would eat him from the inside out, destroying him. He only hoped Max could be strong enough.
"Okay," said Max, wiping the last tears from her face. "I'm ready."
Fang took her hand. It was cold from the snow, which was falling faster now. He opened his mouth to say something, something reassuring, but it wouldn't come. Max laughed, more genuinely this time, and looped her hands around his neck. He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. It was warm, and he frowned.
"You are sick."
She shrugged, pulled out her wings and took off gracefully, as though it had been a day, not years, since she'd last flown. Fang extended his own wings, feeling the muscles tense and tighten, and followed her. Max looked over her shoulder, not at Fang but back at the clearing. She wiped her eyes again and then turned to focus on the snowy mist that blocked their way back to the city.
Fang didn't look back.
I paint my mind just 'cause I'm alive.
And if you see me roaming the hillside,
Won't you come along...
You paint your eyes,
Mine are in the sky,
No worldly word I could say could be golden.
The smile on my face isn't always real.
Author's Note: I wanted to do a little bit more with the storyline I created in The Rift, so this is it. If you haven't read The Rift and you want to know what happens, please do read it. It's quite good, according to the people who reviewed. It is apparently a tearjerker, though, so prepare yourself.
So… I hope you liked this. Pretty pretty please review, since I live for reviews and all… Also, let me know if you want to know a little bit more about this plotline, because I might have some rough ideas for a few more oneshots. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story!
Also, because I like to beg, I'd be eternally grateful if you guys could check out either of my chaptered stories, Until the End of the World and Betrayal. They are not related to either this or The Rift.