Author's Note- Heya dearest readers! This is my first fanfic, and I hope everyone enjoys it. This is set before TAE, when Jeb was still living with the flock. The idea for this came from TAE itself; I merely expanded on something Max mentioned in Ch. 35. The passage reads: 'I remember I'd dislocated my shoulder, sparring with Fang. It had hurt so bad, and I had staggered around clutching my shoulder and trying not to cry. Jeb had calmed me down, talking to me, taking my mind of it, and then, when I least expected it, he had popped it right back into place. Instantly, all the pain was gone. He'd smiled and stroked my sweaty hair off my forehead and gotten me some lemonade. And I'd thought, This is what a dad would do. This is better than what a dad would do.' I tried to stick to this as much as possible, and I believe I succeeded.

This was supposed to be only one chapter, but I wrote too much for the first section. I haven't completed the second section, so please be patient until I am able to finish it (probably in 3-4 days at the least).

Also, I'm sorry if anyone has already done this; writer's honor I had no idea. If someone has, I'd appreciate if someone would tell me the author so I can read their version. If no one has, I would appreciate it if people do not rip off my representation and make up their own instead.

Thanks if you stuck around this long and hope to see you on the other end!

Disclaimer: I obviously don't own any of the characters.

Fang's foot sliced through the air of the space I had vacated only a second before. Target missed. Having barely managed to duck down, the kick literally ruffled my hair. The next instant I drove myself up into the center of Fang's back as he was finishing his recoil, knocking the breath out of him twice- once when we connected and again when he landed face first on the ground.

I flung myself forward, rolling the moment I cleared his head. As quickly as I could, I stood and spun back around to face him, expecting to see him gasping for breath. However, to my complete surprise, he was flying towards me feet first, about waist high above the ground. Target spotted, locked on, and fired at.

His heavy boots connected with my stomach, probably bruising my ribs and leaving no oxygen whatsoever in my lungs. I crumpled to the ground, desperately struggling for air and clutching my midsection. Target destroyed. Target pissed off and out for blood now. But then again so was Fang, and of course it was because of me.

Yeah I admit it, because I'm just so amazing, right? But you already knew that so let's just get to the stuff you haven't heard before. Well anyways, there has always been a competition between me and Fang over who is the oldest. We knew we were about the same age, but not who was older. Finally, after many verbal and physical fights, it occurred to us (okay it was Iggy) that we could just ask Jeb. So we did, and, quite frankly, I wish we hadn't.

Hearing a crash behind me, I twisted around on the ground to see Fang tangled in a strawberry bush. Definitely one of the funniest things I've seen since he also had strawberry juice all over him besides twigs, leaves, and dirt. I couldn't help laughing, but I probably could have controlled myself enough to not laugh my ass off right in his face. This wasn't the smartest thing to do for two reasons- one being that I lost my breath again laughing so hard, and two as that just pissed Fang off even more, which, believe me, is the stupidest thing I could have done at a time like this.

So Jeb didn't know our exact birth dates, which didn't matter since everyone had already chosen their own day to celebrate their birthday. However, what he was positive of was which of was the oldest. How he was sure of that but didn't know our dates of birth we never found out, too caught up in the moment to question him. And now here comes my favorite part: when Jeb settled the dispute once and for all.

"Now, I don't want to hear anymore fighting about this after I tell you. Promise me you won't," Jeb said.

Fang and I both solemnly sweared, as quickly as we could in our anxiety. Technically we never broke this oath. He never actually heard us fighting, only heard about it.

There was a long pause at this point where I think Jeb was internally laughing at us so worked up about this. One of us must have given him a look because he frowned a bit and finally declared (at least it seemed like a declaration to me), "Fang, you are younger than Max. Max, you are the oldest. Do not ever forget that."

Eventually he managed to extricate himself from the bush, and I managed to stop laughing. I had gotten my breath back and my stomach didn't hurt so badly, so I was standing in a defensive crouch opposite Fang in the same position. We stared at each other for about a minute, Fang breathing heavily in anger with a fierce look on his face, and me breathing shallowly to not hurt my midsection with a purposefully blank face on to prevent myself from laughing at how ridiculous he looked with strawberry juice all over his black outfit.

At the end of that minute, I couldn't help cracking a smile, severely irritating Fang for the millionth time today. He literally snarled at me, making me cringe at how threatening he looked, and charged full tilt toward where I stood, frozen in shock from realization. I finally understood the depth of Fang's anger and the amount of trouble I was in for. Trouble as in oh-no-here-comes-an-eighty-foot-drop trouble, not oh-no-my-socks-don't-match trouble. Better buckle up for this ride (or drop).

There was a long pause after Jeb's declaration. During this time, I was mentally reveling in the glory of victory, Jeb just stood there looking between the two of us, and Fang's whole body grew taught: his fists clenched, knuckles turned white, lips pursed, eyes narrowed, forehead scowled, vein twitching at his temple, and his back ramrod straight.

Then I exploded into the air, rapidly unfurling my wings, and did a victory dance three feet above the ground. And what a victory dance it was, beautifully executed complete with fist pumping and cheering galore. Eventually I managed to sink back to the floor, but only so I could start taunting Fang. And I did, relentlessly. As did the rest of the flock. For two straight weeks.

So now you understand why he is this angry. I really can't blame him. It just surprises me that he managed to hold off beating me to a pulp for so long. But our sparring match turned death-match became the outlet for Fang's rage. And this Fanginstein is the result: a furious, unstoppable, invulnerable, adrenaline- and testosterone-fueled mutant. Oops, maybe that will teach me.

Sooner than I would have thought possible, Fang's entire body collided with mine, sending me straight to the ground in a heap of hurt. My whole body pulsed with the pain that radiated throughout me. I had time to take in one shallow breath before I was ripped onto my feet by Fang's pull on my wrist. Instantly, he began punching, kicking, and shoving me. It took two kicks and a punch to rid me of my haze from the pain and a shove and another punch to get my blood boiling and reflexes back up to speed.

Then the real fight started. There would be a flurry of blows from one side and effortless dodging on the other; the positions would reverse and we would begin anew. Only occasionally would either of us actually land a hit, but the few each of us took caused major pain at the impact and later on. After nearly ten minutes of this, the taunts began on my side and the slip-ups from rage on his side.

Five minutes later the fight ended. By this time, both of us were completely drained of strength with sweat pouring from our bodies and our chests heaving and panting for breath. But somehow I managed to throw one last insult at him (I couldn't resist; it was such a good one) just because I decided one of us had to win this fight.

He froze, bent over with his hands on his knees, then snapped his head up and gave me the fiercest glare possible. Unsure of what he was going to do, I just stood there, my weight on the balls of my feet in case I needed to move. I never got the chance, for in the time it took me to blink, his face appeared inches away from mine.

Snapping his index finger to the point in the middle of my forehead, he snarled, deep and menacing, then pushed me backward, all of his remaining strength in his fingertip. I fell like a brick, too tired to care anymore.

But there was never an impact. Instead, I felt Fang's vice-like grip on my wrist. Then he began to swing me around and around, until my feet were merely skimming ground. With one last heave, he sent me flying through the air, accompanied with a sharp popping noise.

Using my momentum, Fang jumped into the air, snapped out his wings, and flew away into the forest. He didn't look back and never heard the pop, the crash, and the weak cries of pain that were left behind him.

Author's Note- WAIT!! Short request before you go off to do whatever. Please send me feedback. I would love to know what you liked/didn't like, what needs improvement, what the strongest/weakest parts were, how well I did with the use of Max's voice, the funniest/most stupid parts, any grammar improvements/corrects, etc. Feel free to answer any or all of these, or even any different, random ones. If you don't have a lot of time/are too lazy, I'd love just a rating from one to ten. All you have to do is put the number; I swear it will take you nearly no time at all. Thanks and hope to see you in other fics! (Also check out my fictionpress account, which has the same username) (p.s. 'Fanginstein'- hope you all liked that! lol; it's original so don't steal it please!)