Scotoma

by Inamorta

Scotoma: The mind sees what it wants to see. Minor Fax.

Scotoma

Summary: Scotoma: The mind sees what it wants to see. Minor Fax.

Genres: Hurt/Comfort/Romance

I shivered involuntarily from the brisk air, pulling my coat tighter around me. It was three in the morning and below thirty with a thick layer of snow coating the barren ground.

I didn't care.

I was numb, unfeeling to everything around me. The memory flashed in my head, making me oblivious to everything else.

"Run!" I cried. "Go! You can't survive this!"

"You can't do this yourself!" He yelled over the roar of the fray.

I should have stopped him.

I looked around me. Blood and dirt was flying everywhere. The dim light of the full moon did nothing to brighten the black riot of the night.

He was right. There were too many for just me. I wished the Flock were with me.

No, my conscious told me, and then they'd die, too. I'm glad they won't. This was the end. But I wouldn't let him die with me.

"Jeb, go!"

He wouldn't listen. I should have known, too. He was my father. I was his daughter. We were more alike than I wanted to accept.

Another shot went off. A flyboy grabbed me by the neck and shoved me down to the ground, sending a fierce kick to my abdomen. I grabbed its leg and pushed into the blazing fires of the building.

An earsplitting siren went off, sending most of the freed experiments to the knees, clutching their ears in agony. Sensitive hearing can do that to you, I thought momentarily.

"It's the alarm!" Jeb called to me before cutting another flyboy down. "It's detected an explosive! Get out of here, Max!"

"What? No!" I snapped out my wings and flew back to him. "Come on! This fight is over. We can't win. Let's get out of here." I grabbed his arm, ready to pull him up into the air.

I was naïve. Naïve to even think I could cheat death.

He wrenched his arm out of my grasp and shoved me towards the broken window. The alarm increased in speed, signaling the impending explosion.

"I'll be right behind you. I need to get the information. Go!" He made a mad dash towards the lab, kicking a dead carcass out of his way.

I hesitated for a moment before grabbing the nearest experiment and jumping out of the window. I sped off towards the parking lot, staying in sight of the building, yet still a safe distance away.

What looked like a boy in my hands squealed loudly when I hastily dropped him on the floor and turned back to the blazing school.

I had managed to save four more experiments before it happened. Jeb had still not come out.

The baby wailed as I set her—more gently this time—on the ground with the others.

As it turned out, death was right behind me.

BOOM!

I went numb.

"No!"

"Max?"

I jumped and spun around, only to see Fang balancing on the thick branch behind me, folding in his wings. I hadn't even heard him coming.

I glanced down at his attire. He was wearing a much thicker coat than me and what appeared to be very warm, black gloves. A long scarf was wrapped securely around his neck and I unconsciously touched my cold one, imagining how comfortable that must be.

Was it really that cold outside? I thought, looking at his heavy clothing.

"What's up?" he asked, moving so he was sitting right next to me. Though he tried not to show it, I could tell he was concerned.

I shrugged.

He gave me a frustrated look before taking my hand. He quickly dropped it and glanced up at me with wide eyes.

"Geez, Max! You're freezing!" He tore off his gloves and shoved them onto my hands. He removed his scarf with one quick tug and secured it tightly around my neck.

I was right. It is comfortable… I thought absently.

As he was about to pull off his coat, I laid my hand gently over his, stopping him. I was touched by his concern over me, but I didn't want him to freeze too.

I gave him a small smile and leaned into him, savoring his warmth. He stiffened for a moment before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I inhaled deeply, relishing his natural smell. Like cinnamon.

I felt safe in his arms. Complete. Like everything wasgoing to be okay. I didn't want to let go of that.

"Max?" he said softly after a few moments. "What's wrong?"

I buried my head deeper into his chest as he shivered lightly. I frowned, pulling away.

"Are you cold? Here—" I moved to pull the gloves off but he grabbed my hands lightly, and pulled me closer to him.

"No, not at all," he said. I nodded after a quick assessment. He wasn't shivering anymore, but his cheeks were slightly flushed from the wind. I scooted closer, hoping to block some of the cold air hitting him. His arms tightened around me.

We sat in a blissful silence for a long time.I ran my clad hands over his bare ones, hoping the friction would keep them from going cold. He finally broke the silence.

"Max… wha—what happened that day? That day you came back all beat up," he said carefully, almost afraid I'd get angry.

He was right. I stiffened and pulled away. "I told you already." My voice was like ice. "You don't need to know the details."

His eyes flared. "Yes, I do. You've been acting like the living dead for three weeks. Three weeks, Max. Do you know what that's doing to the Flock?"

I scowled and grabbed the branch to the right of me, swinging off the tree. My feet hit the ground twenty feet under me with a light thud. I made towards the house but was cut off by a black figure in front of me.

"How do you do that?" I cried, frustrated.

His glare did not falter. "You come home bloody and broken only saying three words and you expect us not to ask questions?" he asked angrily. "Jeb is dead. How eloquent."

I flinched back, instantly losing all of my rage. Jeb is dead, I thought. And it was all my fault.

My eyes flooded and I blinked the tears back furiously. Pain is a just a message. You can ignore it. He taught me that.

I looked back up at Fang. His expression softened and then he was there, wiping my tears. I hadn't even noticed I was crying.

"You need to say something, Max. You can't keep all the pain inside. It'll kill you." What if I wanted to die?

I shook my head, stepping out of his embrace. Hurt flashed across his face. Guilt immediately enclosed me.

"I'm sorry!" I cried, throwing my hands up into the air. "I'm sorry for everything alright? But what am I supposed to do? I saw him—" I choked up. Tears fell thick and fast from my eyes that I didn't bother to wipe away.

I wanted him to see my pain. I wanted him to see how hurt I was. Maybe then, he would stop asking me.

He could have been alive. I could have saved him. I could have stopped him.

But I didn't.

I know I hated Jeb. For two years, I thought he was dead, and then he just shows up again—as my worst enemy. I still haven't forgiven him for that. We were all desolate when he left—me the most. I think I had a closer bond to him because he knew I was his daughter. His blood.

I watched my father die.

All for fucking information.

"Max…" I hadn't even noticed Fang was still there. Or that I was safely engulfed in his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder, my body convulsing with hushed sobs.

It was not his whispered words of comfort that helped. Or the hand he ran up and down my back to soothe me. It was him. The fact he was there. That I had someone there for me. I needed him. To live, to breath, to be. I needed him, like I needed no other before.

I loved him for that.

I tightened my grip around him. "I'm so sorry, Fang." My voice was muffled by his shirt.

He pulled away slightly so I could see his face. His eyes were sad but he had a small smile playing at his lips. "Don't be. Don't be afraid to cry, Max. It's not healthy to keep it in."

"Say's Mr. No-Emotions," I said, a grin tugging at my lips. His eyes lightened a bit at my sarcasm.

"Come on," he said, releasing all of me but my hand. I frowned a bit at the loss of contact, the cold air hitting me once more. He tugged me back towards the house. "I want to show you something."

I looked up at him, pursing my lips. "What is it?"

His smile widened a bit, instantly lightening my mood. "You'll see."

I relented, letting him pull me along. As we passed through the living room, I threw a quick glance at the clock before I was dragged into the hallway.

4:42 AM. My eyes widened slightly. How long had Fang held me? I glanced at the front of his coat. It was still wet from my tears. I stopped suddenly, jerking Fang with me.

He looked back at me with a raised eyebrow. I gestured to his front.

"I'm sorry," I said almost shyly. I couldn't imagine how he felt having to stand there with an emotional Max for over an hour.

He shrugged, throwing a careless arm over my shoulder. "It's cool. Gave me a reason to hold you." He winked at me, removing his arm to retrieve his room key he always carried on a chain around his neck.

I blinked, fairly certain that my face was bright red.

"I…wha—?" He ignored me, silently opening the door and ushering me in. I stepped into his room, flustered. A silence settled over us.

My heart was pounding a thousand beats a minute and he was standing there, cool as a cucumber. Typical. I cleared my throat, hoping to dissipate some of the awkwardness.

"So… what was it that you wanted to show me?" I finally said. He blinked in what seemed like recognition and walked over to the large bookshelf in the corner of the room.

His hand skimmed the titles, searching until he pulled out a big, dusty, leather-bound book from the middle shelf. I looked at it curiously.

"What's that?"

He sat on the bed and patted the seat next to him, looking at me expectantly. I nervously shuffled over to his side, taking a seat a few feet from him. He rolled his eyes, closing the space between us and plopping the large book in-between our laps. I recognized it as an album.

I looked up at him skeptically. "You brought me here to show me pictures?" I huffed, getting frustrated. I was hoping for something a bit more interesting. "Great job, Fang. You picked a great time to show me this. We have pictures all over the house and you choose now to stroll down memory lane? Yes, let's wait until I'm clinically depressed until—"

Fang's hand was on my mouth, silencing me. His thumb shot out to wipe away tears I hadn't even noticed were falling. I turned my head out of his grasp, sniffing and furiously wiping away the rest of the tears.

I was crying far too much today. Unfortunately, all in front of Fang.

I felt the album shift on my lap. "Look," Fang said softly. I looked down, and my breath caught.

Jeb's face was smiling up at me. I was curled up in his lap, fast asleep. I looked to be only ten or eleven in the picture. I recognized the furniture from our house in Colorado .

I traced his familiar features. His bushy eyebrows; his thick, black framed glasses; the slight wrinkles at the corners of his eyes… His crooked smile. We looked like a family. Father and daughter. A bond.

My lip quivered and I started to cry again. But this time, they were happy tears. A smile touched my lips as I gazed at my father's picture. I could barely feel Fang next to me as I flipped through the memories.

Jeb and the Flock watching a movie.

Jeb teaching us to fly.

Jeb cooking with Iggy.

Jeb.

Finally, I reached the last page. There was only one picture on it. It was large, filling up the bulk of the thick, white paper. I smiled at it.

There was a date at the bottom of the image. It was mid-July and I could tell by the shorts we were wearing that it was hot. Fang and I, both eleven at the time, were covered head to toe in dirt, grinning happily at the camera. Jeb was raising both of our hands up in the air, signaling a victory. I grinned at the memory.

We were wrestling to settle an argument we had. It was quite silly, now that I thought of it. Who was better, boys or girls? Fang and I disagreed. In the end, Jeb had declared a tie, saying that both genders were equal. Under the picture, I noticed, was an inscription.

In memory of Jeb Batcheler. May your memory be with us always.

"I made it the night you came back," Fang, said. I smiled up at him.

"Thank you, Fang. It's beautiful. Jeb would have loved it." After a quiet moment, his hand came up to cup my cheek and I leaned into its warmth, my eyes fluttering halfway shut. I felt guilty, suddenly, for yelling at him.

I shifted closer to him, almost instinctively.

"I didn't do it for him," Fang whispered lowly. I drew back, and he dropped his hand.

"You still haven't forgiven him?" My voice wasn't angry or accusing. I knew were Fang was coming from, and how he felt.

He grimaced.

"He's done too much to get on my good side," Fang said simply. I frowned and turned on the bed so I was facing him, knocking the album off my lap.

"The world isn't back and white. Something or someone can't be good orbad. There is so much more to it." I grabbed his hands in mine, hoping to bring him out of the gloom that I unintentionally put him in. He absently rubbed little circles on my hand with his thumb.

"You're right, there are both. But people like that—like Jeb—all the bad things he's done… it rules out the good," he replied. I sighed, frustrated. He didn't understand. For once in my life, I felt older than Fang.

"Scotoma," I said. "The mind sees what it wants to see."

"What?"

"You could walk down a road and see a man pulling a flower. You could think, why would he kill something so small and beautiful? You could even go as far as to saying he was cruel. But look at it in the man's point of view. Maybe that flower was a weed that would spread and infect every other flower in the field and he was saving them.

"What about illnesses? In a hospital, a person with a contagious disease has to be put in a separate, sterile room or else other patients and doctors would catch it. Is that wrong?" I tore my hands away from Fang's and threw them up in the air for emphasis.

Fang's head shot up. "Are you saying that we're a disease and we need to be separated from society?"

I wanted to strangle him until he understood.

"No!" I cried. "What I'm saying is that possibly, the things that Jeb did were to help us. Maybe what he did was out of compassion!" I was standing now, my hands clenched into fists.

He said nothing. His eyes avoided mine.

"You're right," he finally said.

"Who are we to dictate what's right and what's wrong? What right do we have?" I cried.

Fang looked up at me incredulously. "You just contradicted yourself!"

I sighed. He was right. "Sorry," I muttered. "I was working on a momentum." I gave him a slightly apologetic grin and he relaxed slightly.

"Geez, Max."

I laughed slightly before slumping back down on the bed. He joined me, placing a hand lightly over mine.

"Thank you, Fang," I said, without looking at him.

"For what?"

I smiled slightly. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I still felt guilty—I don't think that's likely to change—but Fang helped. His presence calmed me. And for the first time in days, I felt at peace. I could never thank him enough for that.

"Everything."

The mind sees what it wants to see.

I knew it would take me awhile to overcome the guilt I feel for my father's death. I recognized all the wrong that Jeb has done. For the longest time, my mind saw only what it wanted to see. I only saw the man that was my father who abandoned me and made my life the way it was. But in my heart, I only recalled the good. He took us in when we had no one else. He risked his life for us, and that took a hell of a good person to do. And it took only one event to change how I perceived the world around me and to perceive him. I know now that he did what he had to do, and he must have had a damn good reason for it.

Our minds might see what it wants to see, but it only takes one person to entirely change that perspective.

A/N: I know a lot of you wanted Fax, or some form of romance. But seriously, would Fang go and land one on Max when she's all sad and depressed? No. He'd comfort her to the best of his abilities. So let's hope you liked it! Reviews would be lovely.

I Thought It Would Be You fans: Outtakes!

Okay guys, I'm terribly sorry about not updating. I haven't been feeling too motivated to do so lately, and I feel super guilty. But… I have an idea.

You get to vote for outtakes for the story! What happens is you can leave a review or pm me with ideas, and I'll post them up in a poll and you can vote for your top favorite 3.

OUTTAKE RULES:

Don't leave me suggestions like "Have Fang kiss Max!" Try being realistic within my stories limits, please. If it's something big that didn't happen, it's not going to happen.

They can be funny. Like, "Behind the scenes spoofs" or something.

They can be in other people's POV's of a chapter, but it probably won't be as long as the chapter.

Be creative!

Meepisms

:D