I can't focus on my real story right now, having just finished the fifth book in a total of THREE HOURS (I'm insane), so I decided to do this little project-type-thing.

Baby Fax is plus 57, at least.

...Er, never mind. Just enjoy the montage, as they say.

Whoever said that.

...

Moving on. :D

Actually, with my story I Feel Painless; you guys said you'd like to hear about the sick scene I thought up. So here you go. :DDD

"...Max?"

I had heard that weak call a thousand times over that week. You know how it is when a bug goes around a family, though my family is filled with five other bird kids who have no respect for personal hygiene. So, you know how that goes.

The one person I didn't expect to hear it from, though, was Fang. He just didn't seem like the person to get sick; he was invincible, my best friend, my Fang. There wasn't another way to describe it.

I climbed out of my Hello Kitty bed (a hand-me-down from Nudge; we didn't get much new stuff around this house), walked to his room, and pushed open the door.

"Yeah, Fang? What's up?"

He coughed. "My throat hurts."

I came over to him. His eyes were red around the edges, like he had put on eye shadow. I thought that was funny, and I giggled.

"You look like the bad side of Michael Jackson when he was in the Thriller video."

He glared back with intense, dark eyes. I could practically feel the vibes of annoyance coming off of him. I laughed again.

"Why didn't you call Jeb?"

He shrugged. "He never knows what to do. Plus, I just like to make you mad at four in the morning."

His smirk made me want to punch him in the face, but he was in pain. I had to respect that. Or maybe I was just too tired to really care.

Either way, I sauntered into the bathroom, grabbed an Ibuprofen and a cup of water, and dragged my feet back into his room. Sitting on the bed, I passed him the pill and the water. He took both, a sour look on his face.

"How can a single pill taste that gross?" he wondered aloud. "It tastes like they took led paint and put it in a digestible tablet of medicine."

I ruffled his hair, and he glared at me again. "They just wanna make you gag."

He smiled at me, and I suddenly felt more awake. "Thanks, Max."

"No problem."

"No," he said. "I mean it. I don't know how you do it, taking care of us."

I shrugged, feeling a little awkward. "You guys are my family. We take care of each other."

He took my hand in his and looked at me with his red, dark eyes. "I'll take care of you, Max. Whatever it takes. You know I'll have to save you one day."

"Probably," I said, grinning.

"I'll do anything," he said quietly, shutting his eyes. "Anything. I promise."

"You're t-tired," I stammered. My heart was going a million miles an hour. What was going on with me?

"I mean it," he barely whispered. "I'll do anything for you, Max."

Then he was asleep, still holding my hand.

I wriggled my fingers out of his and took a step back, my heart gradually slowing. Then, I bent down, kissed his forehead, and walked away.

"Sleep well, Fang," I murmured. "I hope you don't remember anything in the morning."

I'd say they're about 12-years-old in this.

Hope you like cheesy one-shots. :D