A/N: This is the drabbliest drabble I have ever drabbled, chosen from a collection of even more random snippets I have thought of on my coffee-fueled state. Inspired by a midnight revelation of "Maximum Ride but Fang wears a cowboy hat."
Ari laughed, stepping closer to Fang. I lunged, intending to show him where he could shove his 'directions from the School.' But the Erasers holding me anticipated it and tightened their grips. I was helpless as Ari used a boot to push Fang's side until he rolled flat onto his back.
Fang blinked up at him, hat askew against the ground below him. The rips in his abdomen continued to ooze blood.
Ari sneered. He leaned down to get into Fang's face.
"Don't touch him!" I growled.
Ari ignored me. He looked Fang up and down. "This is who you choose to be your right hand? Barely worth the dirt on my shoe." Ari sneered, looking at the hat. "Thinks he's a cowboy, huh?" He reached down and plucked it off Fang's head.
"Don' touch. . ." Fang slurred.
Ari stood, aiming a kick into Fang's injured side. Fang hissed, hands and abdomen curling into his side.
Ari stood, turning the hat in his hand, to face me. "Really, Max. Pathetic." He lowered the hat onto his own head.
I steeled myself as Ari kept his casual pace toward me, Fang all but forgotten behind him. "You should reconsider my offer."
I scowled. "I did. Believe it or not, my answer hasn't changed."
Ari smirked. He looked stupid in Fang's hat. "I was hoping you'd-" He crumpled to the ground suddenly. Fang stood on shaky feet behind him, eyes narrowed. He was breathing hard with the effort of staying upright.
"Don't," he emphasized with a swipe to collect the item on Ari's head, "touch my hat."
He centered it back on his own head, then used two hands to lower the brim to the front. When he directed a glare to the goons still holding onto me, there was no hint of his injuries. "An' I reckon y'all are in need of a whoopin' since you're still here?"